CASTIEL'S REQUIEM

Chapter 46: Carnage

The war front was a scene of utter chaos and destruction. The once-familiar streets of the City were now a battleground, scarred by the relentless exchange of gunfire and explosions. Buildings stood as skeletal sentinels, their windows shattered, and walls pockmarked with bullet holes. The air reeked of smoke, sweat, and blood.

To the north, the enemy's forces, the Haraqs, had established a strong foothold, their trenches and barricades a formidable barrier against the City's defenders. Their sniper nests and machine gun emplacements seemed to stretch on forever, casting a deadly web of fire that made every inch of ground a hard-won battle.

Before Eva and her team lay the no man's land, a barren expanse of rubble and debris, littered with the bodies of the fallen. The ground was scorched and blackened, a testament to the intense fighting that had raged on for days.

To the east, the City's defenses were breached, the walls cracked and crumbling under the constant barrage of artillery fire. The sound of gunfire and screams filled the air, punctuated by the occasional explosion that sent shockwaves through the ground.

In this maelstrom of chaos, Eva and her team, a ragtag group of soldiers, prepared to make a stand against the enemy's relentless onslaught. Their mission was to retake the lost ground, to push the Haraqs back and reclaim the City. It was a daunting task, but they were determined to succeed, no matter the cost.

"Stop!" Eva ordered, raising her left hand in a commanding gesture. Her soldiers obeyed instantly, halting their advance. She jumped down from the van, her AK at the ready, and motioned for her team to follow her. "Yehoshua, take your men to three o'clock and cover me," she instructed, her voice firm and clear. "Jacob, watch my back."

As they moved towards the old wall, the Haraqs unleashed a hail of bullets, forcing Eva and her team to take cover behind nearby rubble. Eva peered around the corner, her AK firing in short bursts as she picked off Haraq soldiers one by one. Yehoshua's team provided covering fire from their position, but Eva knew they couldn't hold out for long.

"Yacov, we need to move!" Eva yelled above the din of gunfire. "We can't stay pinned down here!"

Yacov nodded, his face set in a grim mask. "I'll cover you, Eva! Go!"

Eva sprinted forward, her AK firing as she went. She reached the wall and began to climb, her fingers finding holds in the crumbling brick. Joshua's voice came over the comms system, his words laced with static. "Eva, we've got multiple hostiles closing in on your position! We're trying to hold them off, but—"

A loud crack echoed through the air, followed by a scream. Eva's heart sank as she saw Yehoshua's figure fall from the watchtower, a Haraq sniper's bullet striking him with deadly precision.

"Shit, Yacov, get back! I've got this!" Eva barked, her frustration and concern evident. "I can't lose you, kid!"

Yacov protested, "But—"

"It's an order, kid! Our team is gone. Fall back now!" Eva commanded, her voice firm but laced with worry.

Yacov refused to back down. "I'm not leaving you alone, Eva. I'd rather die than leave your side. I'll die to protect this city."

"Very well, but I'm not saving your ass," Eva bit out in anger and respect for the nineteen-year-old Yacov Moshe. Pushing forward with renewed determination, she stopped, surprised to see everyone dead except for three people. A man and two women stood in the center of the carnage, their faces familiar yet unexpected.

Yakov raised his rifle, taking aim, but Eva stopped him with a wave of her arm. "They are family," she said, her voice low and even.

Yakov's eyes widened in surprise. "What? But they're Arrysians," he protested, confusion etched on his face. They wore the distinctive black and red uniforms of the Arrysian military, and Yakov had assumed they were enemies.

Eva ignored Yakov's protest, her eyes fixed on the trio. She stopped before them, her gaze cold and unyielding. "Hello, Uriel," she nodded at the red-haired woman. "Ariel, Rafael... fancy seeing you three here?"

The three exchanged uneasy glances, their faces pale. They wore the Arrysian insignia on their sleeves, but Eva's words suggested a deeper connection. "Mikhael," they shouted in unison, their voices laced with a mix of fear and awe.

Eva's expression remained impassive, her blue eyes glacial. "Guys," she said, her voice dripping with a hint of irony. "It's been a long time."

—_—

As Zadkiel and Metatron stepped out of the Ravencorp skyscraper, they were met with a surprise: a battalion of demonic soldiers awaited them. The two angels exchanged a knowing glance, recognizing that these men were no longer human, but hellish creatures driven by a singular purpose - to kill.

"Excuse us, gentlemen," Metatron drawled lazily, brushing nonexistent dirt from his tailored black Tom Ford tuxedo. "We have somewhere to be."

The demonic soldiers responded in unison, their voices eerily synchronized. "Not today. You will fall, just like Golden City has."

Metatron's smile faltered for a moment, the unsettling chorus sending a shiver down his spine. He whipped out his six-foot sword, its blade shimmering in the light. Zadkiel followed suit, drawing his own sword as they charged into battle.

The demons surged forward, their twisted bodies moving with unnatural speed. Metatron parried a flurry of attacks from a demon wielding dual scimitars, his sword flashing in the light. Zadkiel, meanwhile, took down a trio of demons with swift kicks and slashes, his movements a blur.

A demon lunged at Metatron with a spear, but he sidestepped the attack and countered with a powerful strike, slicing through the demon's chest. Another demon tried to grab Zadkiel from behind, but he spun around and dispatched the creature with a swift slash to the neck.

As the battle raged on, the angels began to gain ground. Metatron took down a demon with a devastating combination of sword strikes, while Zadkiel used his agility to dodge a hail of bullets from a demon wielding a machine gun.

But the demons refused to yield. They kept coming, wave after wave, their numbers seemingly endless. The angels fought valiantly, their swords slicing through the demonic ranks, but they knew they couldn't keep this up for much longer.

Just when it seemed like the tide was turning in favor of the demons, Metatron and Zadkiel launched a fierce counterattack. With a mighty roar, they charged forward, their swords flashing in the light. The demons stumbled back, caught off guard by the sudden ferocity of the angelic assault.

As suddenly as it had begun, the battle ended. The last demon fell, its body crumbling to dust as the angels stood victorious, their chests heaving with exertion. The silence that followed was oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of heavy breathing and the soft clatter of swords being sheathed.

Metatron's gaze fell upon a lone demon, barely clinging to life. He reached for the hilt of his sword, his hand closing around it with a familiar grip. With a swift, fluid motion, he unsheathed the blade, its metal gleaming in the light.

The demon's eyes widened as Metatron approached, the sword's tip hovering mere inches from its throat. "What do you mean by 'Golden City's fallen'?" Metatron growled, his voice low and menacing.

The demon, a puny Sherrar who had taken a host with a physiology opposite to its own, cackled weakly, raising Metatron's hackles. "Speak, or I'll torture you for eternity," Metatron threatened, his voice dark and foreboding.

The demon's laughter grew louder, its eyes gleaming with malevolence. "Oh, the look on your face... Golden City has been attacked..." It cackled again, before dissolving into sniffling fits. "Hail Luci... ugh..."

Metatron's patience wore thin. With a swift motion, he pressed the sword's tip against the demon's throat, the blade biting deep into its skin. The demon's eyes went wide, its struggles ceasing. "You should have stayed silent," Metatron whispered, before severing the demon's head from its body.

"Let's get rid of them, then we prepare for war," Metatron commanded, his voice firm. "We return home to defend our city, our people."

Zadkiel nodded, his expression grim.

***

I have had a severe Case of writer's block and it ain't pretty. I'm just getting back at the game and I promise to write better chapters next time and meanwhile don't forget to vote comment and recommend to friends.
Mae