CASTIEL'S REQUIEM

Chapter 41: Wait Azrael

Castiel's smirk grew wider as she beheld her twin's terror-stricken face. The foolish angel had truly believed she had emerged victorious, but little did she know that Death herself could not be slain - at least, not by any ordinary means. El, the lone exception, had yet to make his move.

With a languid flick of her wrist, Castiel sent the fallen angels tumbling to their demise. Her death ravens, those dark and loyal messengers, rose from the dead and descended upon the demons like a shadowy storm, tearing them asunder with razor-sharp talons. The golden blood of the fallen angels seeped into the earth, staining the green grass with an otherworldly glow.

As the last demon fell, Castiel's gaze turned to her twin, her eyes gleaming with an unholy light. She raised a hand, her long fingers extending like a conductor's baton, guiding her enhanced soldiers toward Cariel. "I'll take care of her myself," she purred, her voice dripping with malevolent intent.

The air seemed to vibrate with anticipation, heavy with the promise of impending doom. Cariel's eyes bulged in terror, her voice frozen in her throat as she beheld the horror that was Castiel - her twin, her nemesis, and her executioner. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the soft rustling of Castiel's dark wings, a grim reminder of her newfound power.
Castiel's eyes, now a piercing mix of golden and blue, gleamed with a fierce intensity as she gazed upon her trembling twin. Her new scythe, its blade etched with ancient runes, seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy, as if it too hungered for the kill.

The air was heavy with tension, the very fabric of reality seeming to vibrate with anticipation. Cariel's eyes darted wildly about, searching for an escape, but it was clear that none would come. She was trapped, at the mercy of her twin's wrath.

"You should have stayed out of this, Cariel," Castiel hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "You should have been on my side but instead you sided with Samael to destroy me."

With a sudden, swift motion, Castiel's scythe flashed downward, its blade biting deep into the earth mere inches from Cariel's trembling form. The fallen angel let out a strangled gasp, her eyes fixed on the blade that had so nearly ended her life.

The ground seemed to shudder, as if the very earth itself was afraid of Castiel's newfound power. Cariel's eyes went wide with terror, her voice barely audible as she begged for mercy.

"Wait, Azrael...please!"

Castiel's gaze never wavered, her eyes burning with an unholy fury. "You should have thought of that before you tried to kill me, sister," she spat, her scythe quivering with anticipation. "Now, it's too late. Your fate is sealed."

And with that, the blade seemed to pulse with an eerie energy, as if it too was eager to strike the final blow. Cariel's eyes went wide with horror, her voice frozen in her throat as she awaited her inevitable demise.

—_—

Gyuri was worried, angry, and tense. His sister had survived the accident with no injuries, his private investigator, Marko Berbatov, had informed him. And since then, Prince Gyuri Fabianski, whose coronation ceremony was to be held the next Sunday, a week from now, had been on edge. "Where is she now?" Gyuri asked, his voice shaking with fear.

He paced back and forth in his opulent throne room, surrounded by the grandeur of his palace. The high ceilings, adorned with intricate frescoes, seemed to close in on him as his anxiety grew. The marble floors, polished to a shine, reflected the flickering light of the crystal chandeliers, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The palace, with its imposing stone façade and towering spires, had been the seat of his family's power for generations. But now, it felt like a prison, suffocating him with its weight of responsibility.

"She was in America, spotted with some American tech genius and billionaire," Marko's voice echoed through the phone. "She's in Israel now, with a Spanish Duke."

Gyuri's mind raced with questions. What was Svetlana planning? Was she forming alliances with his enemies? First, America's most powerful woman, then a Spanish Duke, and now she was in Israel - who would she be seen with next? An Israeli General? Whatever she was planning, it needed to be stopped before next week.

"Keep me updated on her whereabouts," Gyuri ordered, his frustration boiling over. "I won't let her ruin this for me."

Ending the call, he threw the phone against the wall with a loud crash. "Wow, that's one way to deal with anger," a deep voice sounded, startling Gyuri. He spun around, his neck straining with the sudden movement.

A man of about five foot nine stood before him, dressed in a black cossack, his black hair streaked with silver at the temples. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he stood like an emperor - someone who had fought his way to the top and didn't care about anyone's opinion. Gyuri felt intimidated, having never had to fight for anything in his life.

He recognized the man before him, someone he admired with every fiber of his being. A man he wanted to be like - strict, fearless, and unapologetic.
A man named Nicolai Alexei Dmitri, president and lord of the Arrysian empire, stood before him. Gyuri walked as the shorter man approached him with a soldier's gait, his eyes fixed on Nicolai with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"Nicolai Dmitri, what brings you here?" Gyuri asked, his voice firm. "Why are you in Elysees?" Though he meant to ask how Nicolai had entered his kingdom undetected, he knew better than to show his hand.

Nicolai's response was smooth, but Gyuri caught the lie. "Prince Gyuri, I heard your father was dead, so I came to offer my condolences." Gyuri raised an eyebrow, his disbelief evident.

"You never liked my father," Gyuri said, his dagger appearing in his hand as if by magic. "So, why are you really here?" He advanced toward Nicolai, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of anger and curiosity.

Nicolai's expression remained calm, his eyes locked on Gyuri's. "Fine, I'm here to offer my alliance, to help you kill your sister." Gyuri's eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing with questions.

"My sister is dead," he lied, but Nicolai's next words left him stunned.

"No, she isn't," Nicolai said, his voice deadpan. "She's in Israel, and believe me, you can't kill her even if you tried." Gyuri's laughter was mocking, but Nicolai's next words left him speechless.

"She's immortal, but not a vampire. However, she's an angel." Nicolai's words hung in the air like a challenge, his eyes glinting with a knowing light.

Gyuri's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Wh...what did you say?" He asked, horrified, his mind reeling with the implications.

Nicolai sighed, gesturing to the throne. "Sit, it's time I lectured you on the supernatural."

***

There's it all I guess, next update coming up soon...