Surno slammed his entire body into a Marker, sending him backwards. He reached out and caught it by the leg with his flaming hand, causing the flames to spread all over its body. The Marker screamed in agony and disappeared. Surno cracked his knuckles and observed the battle.
It had only been a good fifteen minutes. The numbers of the Markers had died down, sure enough; however, there was still a large amount of them. They kept appearing out of the purple mist above them. Their entrance was very different than before, though. No explosions alerted the angels to the arrivals of individual Markers. These Markers were weaker, too.
Surno swung out a fist at a Marker who tried to sneak up on him. He hit it square in the chin, then finished it off by seizing its face with his flaming hand. It burned away into thin air. Surno stared up into the purple mist. He clenched his hands into fists, then flew up as close as he could. Markers were appearing in the double digits within every few seconds. In the thicket of purple masses, deadly and hungry for angelic bloodshed, Surno floated calmly. His blue flame erupted into a crescendo of sparks as the Markers charged at him.
Mickey kept a steady pace with his wings. They beat the air as they worked tirelessly. He still held his rusty sword in his right hand. "That reminds me, Michael. I haven't seen your spirit weapon yet. What is it?"
Michael hummed. "I don't think I have one."
"Bullshit!" Mickey burst into laughter. "The strongest of spiritual beings have spirit weapons no matter what. The weaker ones have to work for it. You may think you're weak, buddy, but throw that shitty thought out of your mind, you see? You're even more powerful than Eight. In that little brawl he had with him, I noticed what his spirit weapon was. His entire body was his weapon."
"What's your point?"
"He was at his strongest - damn, Michael! How retarded can you be? Aha-haha! I'll help ya get your spirit weapon. I need you to be able to handle yourself so that I survive, you see?" Mickey smiled to himself. "I think that we can share my spirit weapon until you get your own. We do share the same body, after all. Here - switch with me!" Mickey stopped in midair. His wings flapped slowly to keep him afloat.
Michael forced himself into being, and he became the controller. Mickey slipped into the passive state of mind he had once been in. Mickey laughed inside of his head. "Still wanna keep that blindfold on?" Michael nodded. "I thought so. Well, squeeze your right hand. Do you feel the bloodstained bandages on the handle?"
Michael tightened his grip on the sword in his right hand. "Yeah. It feels cold. It feels... so broken in my hands. When you were holding it, I could feel a sense of pride and confidence flow through it."
"That's because it's my weapon and not yours! Aha-haha - you're just as dumb as ever. It simply doesn't like you. It'll get the job done; but we better get ya your spirit weapon soon, or else we don't stand a chance!" Mickey snickered.
Michael nodded. He held the sword tightly, then began his flight. He soon arrived at the park where he had left Macie. Michael landed on the ground; he felt the cool grass beneath his feet bend under his weight. The pitter-patter of raindrops echoed in his ears. He could sense someone nearby - a familiar presence that felt like a friend. Michael began to walk towards it. "Macie?"
He heard an excited, high pitched scream. Then, someone crashed into him, closing their arms around him in a tackle-hug. They fell to the ground. "Michael!" the person said. It sounded like Missy. "Aww, couldn't stand to stay away from little ol' me, hmm?" Missy rubbed her face into his chest.
Michael pushed her off gently. "Missy! Are you and Macie alright?" he was looking the wrong way when he asked the question. "You there?"
Missy grabbed his chin and turned his head to face her. She flicked his nose. "What's with the blindfold, cutie? Hey, wait - you think I'm ugly, don't you?" Missy whimpered. "That's why you're hiding your eyes! And to think I thought you were an angel I considered liking." Missy groaned.
"Sorry. I... I hurt my eyes, that's all. I was in a battle with some Markers." Michael said. Mickey snickered in his mind. "Clever excuse. Aha-haha!"
Missy giggled. "I was just messin' with ya. Here! Macie wants to say hello, too. Bye, cutie." A few moments of silence passed, then Michael heard a slight sigh of relief.
"Michael." It was Macie's voice. Michael faced the sound and smiled. "Are you okay? There are Markers around. Should we fight? Should we... hide?" Michael shook his head.
"I want you to stay somewhere safe. This park will do just fine - all of the Markers are closer to the center of the city, anyway. I'm going to go with Mickey and fight whoever is leading this attack. I just wanted to know if you were okay." Michael stood up slowly, testing the weight of Mickey's spirit weapon. "I'll be back in an hour. If I'm gone longer than that, don't come looking for me. Got that?" Michael faced toward Macie - or he thought he did. He was looking the opposite way.
Macie stood up and turned his head to face her. She held her small hand just under his chin. "Okay." She dropped her arm to her side and hung her head. Michael walked away from her for a few steps, then jumped into the sky. He spread his wings wide and flew away. Macie stared after him.
"Left me alone again, Michael? Please stop playing with a girl's heart," she said sadly. She heard a unison of hissing and heavy breathing from behind her. Before turning around, she brought forth her spirit weapon. It fell from above her. She caught it as she spun around by its handle, then swung it along with her momentum. It struck three Markers that had sneaked up behind her. There were eight in all, and more kept appearing. She swung the giant cross again, and it immediately destroyed two Markers.
They slowly advanced on her. Their claws were just aching to rip her to shreds. Macie held the cross by its horizontal timber, then slammed the vertical timber into the ground. Her hands began to glow with a white aura that drifted and disappeared into the air. Her face was stern and her body was tense. Macie charged forward, meeting the Markers. They swung out as one; a mass of a hundred or so claws reached out to tear her body.
A white, translucent shield appeared before Macie. The claws bounced off of it and sent Markers back a few feet. Macie charged onward; Markers too close to the shield immediately burned away as it approached. "Beings, devoid of purity and full of chaos, shall be burnt by the shield of the righteous," she mumbled. The shield suddenly glowed brighter than before, and expanded; Macie jumped into the air. The shield cracked into a thousand pieces that sent shrapnel into the crowd of Markers. Macie lifted her hands above her head. Her spirit weapon appeared in her hands - this time, it was glowing that same white aura as her hands. She began her descent to the ground, then slammed it down as she fell.
The entire park shook. Markers fell to their knees as cracks in the earth opened. They fell into the holes, disappearing forever. Macie swung out at the surviving Markers, defeating the last of them. She breathed heavily when all was over, setting her cross down. The purple mist above her area thickened, and more Markers began to appear. She stared up at the sky as rain dropped down her cheeks in brilliant cascades. She whimpered.
"My turn!" Macie yelled. Before she could reply, Macie felt her control slip away. Her body shifted and Missy took over once more.
She licked her right claw. "More boys for Missy to play with - yay!" The air around her body rippled in hues of black and red. When the rippling stopped, her arms had become spiked and deadly. Sharp needles protruded from her legs. Her eyes were alight with happiness. "I didn't think I'd have to use my own spirit weapon, hehe!"
The Markers swarmed at her. She smiled as they drew near.
---
Eight spotted a black-winged angel in the distance. He stood on the outskirts of town where the land was barren and the streets were rocky. Dead plants were scattered across the expanse of land here. No animals ambled about in this stormy weather. He lifted his head to the rain, trying to feel the smooth texture of water. It only phased through him. He turned his gaze to the speck on the horizon.
"A few hours of free time and you've only gotten that much stronger, Michael? I thought you were better than that." The angel picked up speed, suddenly becoming larger as it drew near. Eight smiled. "I won't let this last too long, now. Daniel has a reward for me when your head is served on a silver platter."
Eight crossed his arms with a smirk.
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