--Heaven--

Sera was hunched over the top of his desk. He rarely slept. In fact, he hated sleeping.

The act of sleeping wasn't what bothered him; it was that it was such a waste of time. The undeniable fact was that he was constantly busy. He literally didn't have time to sleep. Sometimes though (like now) it unexpectedly snuck up on him and forced him to succumb to the biological need.

Currently he dreamed about his life and what had happened that brought him to his current status. He didn't like thinking about his past because it all seemed so surreal to him. He wasn't sure which of his fragmented memories were real and what was something he might have imagined.

Three thousand years ago he had been a Roman gladiator. He didn't remember if he was any good or not. The fact he had died in the arena led him to believe he wasn't. His memories really began after he earned the rank of Seraphim, and that's what he dreamed about now.

There was a grand Naming Ceremony, where he would finally shed his given mortal name and choose himself a new one. His pride had taken over, declaring himself Seraphin. It was the closest he could get to the word Seraphim without actually using that. That name was forbidden for the exact reason he had picked his name. Sera had high goals for himself, hoping to reach the upper-most echelon of Seraphim--he wanted to be the Seraphim.

Like most Heavenly celebrations, Sera had been surrounded by every angel in Heaven. They all sang. It took all of his willpower to not join them. Sera loved the choirs; his absolute favorite time of year was Christmas. Heaven came to a standstill and for 48 hours straight, from Christmas Eve through all of Christmas, there was continuous singing. The singing lasted with intermittent breaks until the 6th, where things finally fell back into their normal routine.

Sera's naming ceremony was also the first time he was allowed to be in close proximity to God. He knelt, too terrified to raise his head. Finally God spoke directly to him, and tears immediately rolled down his cheeks. It was the single most beautiful voice--no, single most beautiful sound--he had ever heard. God instructed Sera to lift his head and he did. He reached out and touched the angel's forehead.

God's hand was warm. This quickly became hot. Then searing. Sera held out for as long as he could but, finally, he began screaming in pain. He had seen a Seraphim's Naming Ceremony once before, so he knew this was part of it. Once again his pride had gotten the best of him and he told himself he wouldn't scream like the previous angel had. Sera didn't expect it to hurt so badly though.

His entire body felt engulfed in flames. His back ripped open, additional wings bursting forth, covered in millions of eyes. He could feel his face split, his head opening to reveal four different faces. When the change was finally complete Sera collapsed, looking whole and human. The angels had been singing louder to drown out his cries and he flinched--it was deafening.

"Seraphin," God spoke, and when God touched Sera again a cooling sensation rippled through his body, and he was fine, "my new Seraphim. Rise, my child."

Sera stood, looking out at the sea of angels and smiled. Sera never could have imagined in that moment that he would eventually become Archangel to God Himself. As the dream shifted to this, Sera whimpered in his sleep.

It was on one fateful Christmas when it happened--although fate had nothing to do with what transpired. All of Heaven was gathered, singing the eternal praises of God and Jesus. Suddenly the sky went black, the clouds turning to gray storm clouds. It took awhile for the commotion to reach Sera who had been near the front, the Gates of Heaven being a few miles behind him.

Michael, God's Archangel and Sera's best friend, took off flying towards the Gate. He had summoned his dual flaming swords. Sera summoned his single silver sword, springing into the air and giving frightful chase after Michael.

It wasn't until the pair were directly in the fray itself could they see what was happening. Before then all they could hear were the battle cries, and all they could see were angels being flung into the air. Finally Sera hovered directly over the mess, too shocked to do anything.

Lucifer, wielding a wicked-looking twisted, black sword, was leading a charge comprised of Higher Demons. Sera knew they were Higher because Lesser Demons-vampires, lost spirits, conjurations-would have burst into flames and perished immediately upon entering Heaven.

These were the dangerous ones. Scores of Watchers, Nephilim, and Fallen Angels whose wings were as black as ebony, attacked anything that moved that wasn't a demon. Sera was mortified to see Paimon riding on his large black war-camel; this was one of Lucifer's General's, one of the only friends Lucifer even had. Paimon had many different names, but he was one of the Princes of Hell. There were three other Prince's--if Paimon were here, Sera was sure the other three were, too.

This was not merely a skirmish. This was not some sort of war game. This was a serious assault.

It was startling, the sheer number of demons Lucifer had gathered. There were nearly as many demons as there were angels, and they kept pouring in through the Gate. It was with this realization that shook Sera out of his shock. He sprung into action, additional wings unfurling as pure white lightning crackled and snapped off his body.

The battle was arduous and lasted hours. The two sides went blow for blow. Sera had been wounded, tired, cowering behind a collapsed building as he allowed himself a few moments of rest. Shaking, he looked at his hand that was clutched at his stomach; it came away soaked in blood. Grimacing, he put it back.

As he peeked out from his hiding spot, he was startled to see that Lucifer was close. It was the last thing Sera had expected, and he snapped his head back around the rubble. Lucifer was walking past, alone.

"Good," Michael said, abruptly appearing out of thin air next to Sera. The Archangel was bloodied and dirtied, but appeared to be in better shape than Sera was. "He's finally alone."

Sera hadn't seen Michael in hours. He was relieved to see that he was alive. Michael had taught him everything about being a Seraphim. They spent everyday together, drank and ate together for almost every meal, only changing this routine if they had prior engagements to attend to.

Often they had deep philosophical conversations that always lasted late in the night, usually ending with Michael getting frustrated at how cynical Sera was. After a point Sera lost count of how many times Michael chided him, warning him his mouth would make him become Fallen one day. Yet regardless of how angry they were at each other the previous night, they always acted like no quarreling had taken place the next morning.

Over the years Sera had come to view Michael as an older brother. Sera couldn't remember if he had siblings when he was human. In fact, with each passing day he was finding it harder to remember a time when he had been mortal, period. Their friendship was priceless to him.

Sera grabbed Michael's forearm. "Michael. You don't mean to take him alone?"

Michael gave Sera a cocky look as a lock of straw-colored hair fell onto his sweaty, sun-kissed brow. He wiped a bit of blood from his lip and grinned. "Of course I do. One on one seems like a fair fight."

Sera peaked back around the corner again, feeling sick as he watched Lucifer lick blood off his demented sword.

"Michael," Sera pleaded desperately, gripping his friends' arm tighter. The battle around them was coming to their ears as a mere din now, bodies of demons laying all around them. Angels simply disappeared when they died. "You know who that is, right?"

"Of course I do," Michael scoffed. "I was a witness when he Fell. Not to mention I've gone toe-to-toe with him before, the last time he tried to do this."

"The Morningstar was the first angel God ever created!"

Michael flashed a grin. "So?"

It was then Michael stood from where they hid, bellowing Lucifer's name. Sera watched in horror, frozen, as Michael declared he would put an end to this nonsensical attack. Lucifer had turned to face Michael.

Sera watched helplessly as his best friend marched over the rubble to Satan himself. He was one of the tallest beings Sera had ever seen, towering over the much-shorter Michael. Lucifer grinned at him. It was a bloodthirsty look.

The fight between them wasn't long, but admittedly longer than Sera thought it would go on for. It ended how Sera feared it would. In a surprise twist though, Michael had managed to knock Lucifer's sword out of his hands. This simply enraged the Fallen Angel, making him impossible to deal with.

Michael realized the error and stumbled back as Lucifer advanced on him. Michael swung his right sword, but Lucifer easily grabbed his forearm. The sound of crushing bones rang out. Demons and angels alike had stopped their fighting to watch.

Screaming, Michael struck with his left sword. Lucifer grabbed that arm too, and the pair grappled briefly. Lucifer kicked Michael squarely in the chest, and the Archangel stumbled back. That moment of lost composure was his downfall.

In the blink of an eye, Lucifer was before Michael. He grabbed Michael by the head and, with a sickening ripping sound, removed Michael's head from his body.

Sera clamped both hands over his mouth to keep from screaming. His eyes bulged. Lucifer held the head by the hair, looking at it with an expression of mild wonder. After a few moments he dropped it, kicking it like a ball. Then, without so much as a sound, Lucifer and his sword simply vanished.

"MICHAEL!"

Sera dropped his sword, running to the lifeless body. He slid on the ground but he was too late. As he grasped to hug the body it disappeared, evaporating into nothing along with its head. Sera knelt, head bowed, weeping bitterly as the fighting in the distance quelled and then stopped.

Sera wished he would have done something. But what? He had been severely wounded—a Nephilim had attempted to disembowel him with its claws. He would live, but he was bleeding profusely. He knew logically had he tried to help he would have ended up like Michael.

Sera knelt as the daylight returned and then turned to night, weeping quietly. For awhile it had looked as though evil might win, but, after Lucifer had gone, their numbers dwindled. It had seemed to be a stalemate of sorts.

Sera wondered if that was the intended outcome. Had this been Lucifer's plan all along? Had he done this just to dispose of Michael? Or had it happened unexpectedly and he had taken it as a victory, crawling off back into his hole?

Sera would never know. Truthfully at that moment he didn't care. All that mattered was that he had lost his only friend in Heaven.

Angels frittered about, disposing of dead demons and gathering up piles of rubble. Some of the reconstruction had already begun. No one had told them to do it—normally Michael would have declared such a thing.

But Michael was dead, and God had disappeared. As Sera watched them out of the corner of his eye, he was painfully aware there weren't as many angels as there should have been. They had been dealt a huge blow.

"Sera," an angel finally said around midnight, gently putting a hand on his shoulder.

Up until now he had been left alone in his grief. Everyone knew how close he had been with Michael. Compounded with the fact that there was a general reverence of Seraphim's, and Sera was known to have a temper, well...He was sure everyone had been afraid to say anything to him up until now.

Sera looked up. It was a female angel with beautiful black ringlets, her ebony skin speckled with bits of demon blood, smeared in soot. Sera's face was laced with sorrow and hatred.

The angel knelt down, embracing him tenderly for a moment. She then held him at arm's length. "Come. Lets get you to bed. You have a big day tomorrow."

"Big day?"

Without saying anything else, the angel helped him to his feet.

The next day was filled with more singing. First were lamentations in honor of Michael. Jesus himself was present, giving a heartfelt speech. Then, much to his confusion, Sera was called to the front of the huge gathering.

Sera stood and stared out at the sea of angels. Jesus stood behind him in front of God's throne, speaking with his arms outstretched. No one knew where God was that day. It wasn't until Jesus was halfway through his speech did Sera finally comprehend what was happening.

Bewildered, he twisted around where he stood and openly gawked up at Jesus. Jesus briefly looked down and gave him a wink. This infuriated Sera so he turned back around, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"I present to you Seraphin, new Archangel Primus of Heaven."

Heaven erupted into thunderous applause, cheering, and singing. In a flash of bright light Sera's clothes changed slightly. No longer did his black military uniform have the purple piping of a Seraphim's rank; now it was green. He was the only one in all of Heaven who would have an outfit like that.

Tears of disbelief and anger sprung to Sera's eyes. He hadn't wanted this. He knew what a heavy responsibility this was. He was also painfully cognizant of how difficult it would be; Michael had complained often about the lack of direction he received from God.

The truth was, Michael had been left to his own devices to figure out what to do and what not to do. Michael had often come to Sera to pick his brain, and on more than one occasion Michael had followed Sera's advice. Which, unfortunately, was probably why he had been promoted to Archangel.

If anyone noticed the tears that now freely coated Sera's cheeks they gave zero indication. As he cried, he locked eyes with the female angel from the previous night. She was standing just three rows back, directly in front of him. Solemnly she applauded, never breaking her gaze.

They hadn't even asked him.