Andrew rubbed his cheek. He sat on a patch of grass. The other Soul Angels - unfairly branded the 'Traitors' - milled about, preparing for their next battle. "Goddamn that bastard can punch hard," he muttered. "Shit; Heather, you have that freakin' elixir ready yet?" Andrew groaned impatiently.
Heather, carrying a glass vial full of blue fluid, walked up to Andrew. She slapped him with one of her wings, knocking him back. "Here, you big bully. It's one of our last ones. Can you please stop pushing yourself so hard all the time?" She handed the vial over carefully.
Andrew sat up and took it with a frustrated expression. He chugged it down quickly and gave the empty vial back. "Well, if some other Soul Angels - oh, I don't know, my comrades - had helped out with the final fight, I might not have had to use every last bit of my power. We were lucky that kid was there, though." He snorted in disgust.
Heather cocked her head to the side. "You don't like Michael?"
"Like him?" Andrew laughed obnoxiously. "He's pathetic! Seriously, though. That kid has just become another tool for those angels up in the City of Guardians to use. I don't give a damn if he's some pre-destined hero, I'll tell you that much. I bet I could kick his ass." He grinned wickedly.
Heather slapped him with his wing again, then sat down beside him. "He means well, though. We should consider him an ally. After all, he doesn't know that we've been condemned as traitors. I didn't want to be a Guardian Angel, anyway." She sniffed loudly.
Andrew sat up again. A vein on his forehead pulsated, matching his fury. "Can ya stop freakin' slapping me!? Thanks." He sighed. "We're still angels, Heather. Lily always takes us on protection runs, too. It's kind of in our nature to help out humans, ya know? Even if we have been outcast from being a part of the Guardian Angels, we'll end up helping humans." Andrew snorted again.
Heather poked him in the shoulder. "What do you keep laughing about?"
"Ya know, the angels who outcast us don't spread news to any other groups of angels in the world. Also, they're the only established order in the entire world. Ya know what that means?" Andrew had an excited look in his eyes. "We could join other angels! We'd have to leave this place, but who needs it anyway?"
Heather sniffed loudly again. A tear welled up under her eye, and she wiped it away. "This is our home, though. Would Lily even allow us to leave this place?"
As if she was summoned, Lily strolled past them. She stopped in front of Andrew who was sending her a dirty look. "Angry at something, Andie?" she asked mockingly.
Andrew snorted. "Hell no. I'm just wonderin' why ya let that Greg guy stay wit' us. It's not like he's a Traitor."
"So that's what we're being called now, huh? 'Traitors?' Whatever. Greg is with us now - if you have a problem with it, take it up with me. There's no one else in this world who will help you or even look at you besides our little family and Greg. He's the best thing that's happened to us so far." Lily stared off into the distance.
"Looks like he gave you the best thing that's happened to you so fa-" Andrew was cut off by a swift kick in the chin. He winced painfully while rubbing his chin. Lily blew a strand of hair away from her face.
"Our relationship has nothing to do with our group's task. Have you healed up yet, kid? Greg has sensed that Markers will attack again. I'm not even sure how that's possible, to be honest; any theories, Heather?"
Heather fidgeted with her hands. "Well, the first wave of Markers wasn't anything to be excited about. However, by the time more spawned during that first wave, different energies and presences could be felt in the area." She met Lily's attentive gaze. "In other words, half of the Markers that we fought were born from slain Heart Angels. The other half, however, could have been manufactured by real Markers."
Lily's eyes widened. "Is that possible? Damn - Daniel must have found a way to do such a thing." She brought a hand to her face and pressed it against her cheek. "I don't suppose you could run, I don't know, some tests or something during the next attack?"
Heather shrugged. "As long as I am sufficiently protected, I believe I could analyze the differences in power, appearance, and personality in the Markers. They might be using manufactured drones this time around in order to minimize damages sustained to their real attack force." Heather's eyebrows perked up. "It is also possible that the Markers from slain Heart Angels could be feeding off of power that is released during our battles with the manufactured ones. If so, then with each wave of drones, the real Markers could double in strength!" Heather bit her fingernails.
Lily rubbed her forehead. "We just barely got away with the last assault. That was just us, though, and Michael. The angels up top didn't get here until moments after Michael had finished off the last ones." She turned to Andrew. "Why the hell did you have to use such a destructive method!? Michael was our last hope - our savior - and you had to impale him?"
Andrew shrunk in fear. "He told me to! He said it was our last resort, ya know? It was the only way ta win. Don't be yellin' at me!" Andrew covered his face to protect himself from any blows.
"I hope we can win again. Andrew, could you be a dear and tell everyone to rest right now? Thanks." Lily's tone was strangely detached. Her face was empty of expression as she walked away from the group. Heather and Andrew stared after her.
"I hope she's okay," Heather said worriedly. Her mature, scientific mien had left.
Andrew snorted. "She'll be alright. Who gives a shit about Michael dying, anyway? He's a freakin' Soul Angel. He'll be reborn like us, right?" He looked to Heather for confirmation. Fear crept up in the pit of his stomach. He could feel the guilt eat away at him.
Heather shook her head solemnly. "He's the angel born from destiny, the one Peter predicted. I believe Greg predicted him also. Michael is both a Heart and Soul Angel. When Surno took Michael's emotions away so that he would die as a Soul Angel. This worked, but since Michael had such a strong passion for a human female even though he had no emotions, the Heart Angel part awoke in him at his death. So these chain of events caused him to become the Peacemaker, the pre-destined angel, the one to unite the Heart and Soul again." Heather cleared her throat. "Do you get it?"
Andrew stared blankly. "Hell no." He scratched his head. Heather frowned at him.
---
Greg, seated on top of a building, stared out at the sun. It's orange tendrils crept over the tops of trees, mountains, buildings, and cars. Long, straight shadows seemed to flee from each ray of light that brightly shone. Greg reached out his hand to the sun as it began its descent into night.
"Why am I still seeing Michael in future events?" he asked himself. "Is he not dead? Are my eyes still blind? Or have I simply gone insane with the sheer confusion brought on by the traitorous acts of my brethren, like Ryan?" Greg hung his head low. A cool breeze shook him gently.
It wasn't a breeze. An angel brushed past him in a flurry of flapping wings. Greg jumped up to a battle stance. His golden battle axe appeared in his hands with a flourish of silver. The figure whirled around him at high speed, causing his hair to flail and hit him in the face. He could barely see.
The flying stopped, and the assailant struck out first. A fist clamped around the handle of a tonfa flung out at Greg. It hit him in the chest, knocking him back onto his butt. He lost the grip of his battle axe and reached dumbly for it as the high speed whirlwind began again.
Greg found purchase on the metallic handle. He seized it tightly and jumped to his feet again. I'm truly going insane, Greg thought. I can hear whispers as my death approaches.
It was true. Within the whirlwind, a voice kept repeating a solemn phrase. "I'm sorry," it whispered. "I'm sorry."
The apologies plagued Greg's mind. He couldn't react physically or mentally. The whirlwind stopped and a flurry of blows from wooden tonfas brought him to his knees. Orange blood dripped out of the side of his mouth. Greg got to his feet again reluctantly.
"I'll become a Marker," Greg said weakly. He stumbled forward a few steps, trying to read his attacker's movements. He swung out with his axe, missing by a few inches. The dark figure increased its speed and the whirlwind grew deadlier. "I'm not a Soul Angel - I just look like one. I'll become a Marker," he said even softer than before.
"I know. That's why I'm sorry," a voice replied. "I'm sorry, Greggie. I'm so very sorry." The whirlwind eased up a bit.
He saw his chance, and Greg swung out with his axe. He caught something and felt the blow reverberate throughout his entire body. Black blood came from where he struck; the whirlwind around him died down. At the end of his golden battle axe, a familiar friend stood with the edge of the axe six inches deep into his body.
Blood seeped from his wound on his shoulder. He smiled at Greg. "I had to do it, Greg. I had to do it. If I didn't, Surno would come after you himself." He fell to his knees. The tonfas fell from the side of his arms and clattered on the rooftop. He looked up weakly at Greg. "I'm glad you stopped me, Greggie; I'm sorry. I love you too much to see you get hurt by someone as cold as Surno. Please know that I never meant to harm you." A tear rolled down his cheek.
Greg ran over to him. He ripped the axe free from his wound and caught him as he fell. "Damnit. Surno ordered you to do this? This is exactly why I left. Why didn't you come with me like I asked?"
Greg's assailant smiled warmly. "If I did, then Surno might have come after us. He might have hurt Ryan, too. I had to stay to protect Ryan and to ensure that no one else but me went after you. Do you see what I was trying to do, Greggie? I wanted to be the hero this time around. I wanted to be useful. I wanted to... I wanted to." His voice slowly weakened. His body began to deteriorate into glimmering sparkles that floated on the breeze. Greg held him tighter.
"No, damnit! Don't leave me! I won't lose you - I won't lose you!" He shut his eyes in frustration. "We need you now, Tracy! A week without you won't do. The Markers are attacking again, Tracy!"
Tracy disappeared in Greg's arms. Greg, paralyzed, remained still for the better part of half an hour. Finally he fell back onto his butt, staring at the empty space before him.
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