Anarchy, Burning(ONC2022 Entry)

Part 18- Seraph Uriel-Dem

Watching from atop the church steeple, the Seraph has a perfect view of the avenue and the approaching force. New York City burns all around him and hellspurs desecrate the landscape. Hell's armies are on the move and, when those blessed to stand against them need it most, the light is fading. He looks skyward, sending a silent prayer for the Gates of Heaven to open and the angelic host to descend upon the enemy.

It is a prayer falling on deaf ears.

"Commander, our troops are in position." Goose says as he carefully joins Seraph Dem on the roof.

Goose is a brown eyed, dark haired, abomination. A hybrid human and angel. In the old days his kind were called Nephilim. Today they are called Demi-Angels. Seraph Dem knows most of his brethren would rather fly into battle alone than fight alongside half breeds. His time on the Material Plane has opened his eyes to the stupidity of such bias.

Seraph Dem slides down to join Goose, the former just slightly taller.

"They only wait for your signal."

"Good." Seraph Dem looks in the direction of the advancing army. Beetle Tanks and Spider Cages, minotaurs and lizardmen snipers. It is going to be a bloody battle. "What's morale like?"

"A lot of the true angels are skeptical about fighting alongside demi-demons. They think they'll be stabbed in the back."

"No one wants The Material in the clutches of Hell, not even hellspawn."

"...Demi-Demons, Seraph."

Dem chuckles. "Sorry. Old habits."

The Seraph studies his direct report. Lieutenant in the United States Army, Squad Leader in The Organization. A warrior among warriors. The two had worked together before, hunting fugitive angels smuggling dangerous contraband.

"Do you think we're up to this, Goose, my old friend?"

"Honestly, Dem, no. We don't have the numbers nor the means to destroy those hellspurs. Even if we push them back, they'll just regroup."

Seraph Uriel-Dem casts his eyes skyward before looking down at the gauntlets on his hands.

"Tell the men, if they choose to flee to the sea, I won't think less of them."

"I told them, you'd say that."

"And?"

"They're all still here." Goose smiles and extends his hand. "We're all happy to fight by your side."

Seraph Dem sheds all pretenses and pulls the career soldier into a heartfelt embrace.

"Many won't survive this skirmish."

"We're ready to die by your side as well."

The column of demons march north, small groups breaking off following cerebroid seers. The reports are right. They are searching for something. Seeing so many of the psychic demons forces Seraph Dem to second guess himself. Only General Argon commands such a diverse force and she is infamous even among the mighty angelic choirs.

He scans the army below for any sign of the general, but only sees her insignia. Casting one more prayer skyward, he hoists up the AT4 rocket launcher at his feet and sights on a skittering beetle tank. A whoosh and crack, blow away some of the roofing tiles as he clicks the firing mechanism. The answering explosion below sends carapace and guts in every direction. A half dozen enemies: dead. The demon foot soldiers scramble to find cover and return fire. A second beetle tank repositions, raising its barrel high, and the day erupts in a volley that tears up and down ten city blocks as the ambush begins.