Duke Saleos made certain that Zephiel was dressed in perfect black robes before accompanying him to meet the king of Hell. Admittedly, his own clothes had been torn badly in the attack of the void-eaters, but these made his white wings – now washed pristine of the blood – stand out in a way that made him very uncomfortable as they passed various members of demon nobility in the hallways.

He couldn't blame them for staring and whispering among themselves. There had probably never before been an angel in the palace. But that only made him more aware that he should not be here in the first place.

The throne room was fairly simple, almost empty as the furniture went. The throne itself was behind a large cloth preventing any glimpse at the king. Zephiel wondered a little if there was some reason for that. Or, for that matter, if god's throne was similarly hidden – he had never had the honor to stand in his presence.

Saleos dropped to one knee in front of the throne, and Zephiel followed his example.

"Your Majesty, I bring grave news," the duke spoke.

"I am already aware of them," a voice from behind the curtain spoke. It was a smooth baritone, melodious in its own way. Almost hypnotizing. "Is he the betrayer?"

"We have not discussed the matter yet. This far he is only an eyewitness. I must admit I was defeated almost instantly, and he saved my life."

Zephiel remained quiet. He didn't understand the devil's question, but it did give him a bad feeling.

There was a soft rustling sound at the throne. Then, "Rise."

As Saleos and Zephiel stood, a man dressed in white robes stepped out from behind the curtain. His long hair, adorned with a simple silver tiara, and eyes were pitch black. There were two pairs of wings on his back, the mark of a very high rank of angels, except they were also black.

He was beautiful in a way that stole Zephiel's breath away with a single glance.

"Your Majesty," Saleos acknowledged him with a bow.

The king framed Zephiel's face with one hand. "Let me see what happened."

Zephiel nodded obediently. There was no way he could have resisted. A few minutes passed before the touch on his skin disappeared and the angel felt like he had been freed from a spell.

"We must start the preparations immediately," the king stated. "Saleos, gather the war council as quickly as you can and send a message to Heaven." Then he turned back to Zephiel, "Will you lead the forces of Heaven?"

"I don't understand, Your Majesty," Zephiel admitted. "I am not a commander. I don't have the authority to-"

"If I may suggest," Saleos interrupted him, "perhaps Malach could fill him in on the details? It is not an easy choice to make."

"Very well. You may go."

~*~*~

The city around the palace resembled human ones a lot. Unlike Heaven, with its vast gardens and the large community buildings scattered around, it was a tight cluster of smaller houses with wide roads crisscrossing between them. The sky was hued red, illuminated by an unknown source, but otherwise the scenery looked fairly...normal. There was still the faint smell of brimstone everywhere, but he was getting used to it.

Malach was eating when he entered his house. "Take a seat," he invited the angel.

The abundance of food laid out on the table was as tempting as it was surprising. Zephiel had a little expected demons to just tear into large chunks of raw meat, but everything was cooked to perfection if the appearance and the sweet aroma was any indicator.

"Angels don't eat meat," he nonetheless protested as he sat down opposite to the demon.

Malach chuckled and pushed one of the plates towards him. "That's vegetarian. But you should have a taste. You might like it."

Zephiel remained quiet for a moment. Was he afraid to hear the answer? In the end, he decided to ask anyway. "Were you a betrayer?"

The demon didn't seem surprised in the least. "Yes. Do you know what that means?"

"Duke Saleos said that you could explain."

Malach sighed and put his fork down. "I should have known. He must think that you'd agree more willingly if I asked."

"I wouldn't betray my god, no matter who asks." He wouldn't. He really wouldn't. His hands clenched into fists under the table. But just watching Malach like this made him want to throw away his entire life as a battle angel.

"Would you betray your companions-in-arms?" Malach asked quietly.

"O- Of course not!" What was the demon getting at? He hated being this confused!

"You already know too much." His voice was resigned. "If you refuse, could I at least keep you with me forever? I know I will be ordered to kill you, but perhaps the duke would help make a compromise."

"Just tell me what this is all about."

It would be easier if he at least knew all the facts.

"As long as the void-eaters are consistently fed with the energy from the conflict, they slumber. But when they do awaken, satisfying their hunger takes much more. Countless lives. And Heaven and Hell have an agreement that both will supply half. Otherwise one or the other will be completely devoured."

So battle angels and demons were nothing more than fodder, in one way or another. He wasn't even shocked with this knowledge. They had never really been anything more than tools, and without meeting Malach, he would have never even realized. "And the betrayer?"

"The one angel who will lead the forces of Heaven into the trap. If they survive, they will be banned from Heaven and be reborn as a demon."

The truth had been there all along. He just hadn't seen it. "Malachim" meant angels or messengers of god.

"You were an angel..." he spoke quietly.

Malach nodded. "A very long time ago."

The silence was very awkward.

"If...if that is what god wants to happen, I will do it," Zephiel finally stated. Hundreds...Thousands of people he knew would die. But that was what he existed for. To kill in order to protect Heaven. It should not make a difference whether it was demons or angels.

Malach stood, walked to his side of the table and hugged him gently. "The guilt will fade eventually. Please...survive. For me."

~*~*~

The carnage was sure to haunt his nightmares for years. Not the bodies that would quickly disappear like ashes in the wind. He was used to that. It was the darkness assaulting the wounded like a horde of maggots. After a while nobody even paid any attention anymore to who their enemies were supposed to be – they only tried in vain to survive the onslaught.

But their shared foe was too strong, too numerous. Their numbers and their engorged bodies were enough to plot out the psychedelic rainbow colors swirling around them.

In the end, only Zephiel and Lady Astaroth – a formidable demon who had led the forces of Hell for the second time in history, or so he had been told – were left standing. Barely. The void-eaters retreated around them to gather into the outline of a huge serpent. Perhaps like a dragon. Or a hydra. Zephiel's eyes refused to focus completely on the majestic shape.

Then it faded into nothingness. His injuries reminded him of their existence with vengeance as the overbearing presence disappeared. Reptilian skin touched his own. He wasn't sure if it was Astaroth's or one of her snakes'.

"It's over. For now."

The next time he opened his eyes, it was much like when he had first met Malach. He was lying naked in a bed – although the room was quite luxurious compared to the tent for the wounded – and the demon was sitting at his bedside, watching him with that same gentle expression. His wings were gone. And this time they would not grow back.

Malach smiled. "Welcome home."