The sands of purgatory are as warm as they are vast, spanning endless miles. It is a place of eternity, its function unknown as the creator fell before its completion. As it held no use to the Arch Council, they cared not for what occurred there.
The ocean had no end, either. No bottom. They would never know its purpose in God's grand design, but today, it would be their meeting place.
The beginning of change.
"There will be no turning back," Damian said, his beautiful eyes burning into Lucifer's soul. "I understand if some of you are afraid. I am, too. We've never faced such a conflict before. However, if the realms are to function as God intended, we must bring down the usurper," he stated, firm and proud.
"Even with Gadreel, there's no guarantee we'll win," Belphegor said, awake for once. "Metatron has everything we don't."
"Not everything," Lilith challenged, standing proud with her son. "He lacks family. He doesn't know the power of love. That is why he will fall."
Lilith held Lucifer's hand, smiling with her husband.
The sins, several archangels, numerous seraphim and countless demons would be enough to force Metatron to take them seriously. He couldn't dismiss them if they had such support.
"Is it ready?" Satan questioned, his flaming gaze meeting the former human who had yet to speak.
"Yeah. It's ready," Adam confirmed, visibly nervous. "I don't want us to use it."
"Given how tight that fucker's gotten a grip on everything, we won't have a choice," Mammon said, the first of them to recognise the inevitability. "This ain't going to end with peace - that's not an option with this cunt. The only way is to kill him; that is how we'll do it."
A weapon designed to be a threat but not used. However, Mammon spoke true. They all knew that Metatron would never willingly give up his power. He'd never abdicate his throne of lies and blood.
Asmodeus nodded, his tail feathers ruffling in the soft winds.
"War it is," Damian said, determination alight in his eyes. "For the souls of yesterday and tomorrow."
"For our family," Lucifer continued, patting Adam's back. "For everyone he wronged."
"With Gadreel, we ain't gon' lose," Satan affirmed, cracking his knuckles. "Hoist the colours, kid."
Damian nodded, walking out atop the ocean surface. He spread four beautiful wings, the feathers as silver as a full moon. Fire and brimstone coiled within his palms, falling like sand from a broken hourglass. Upon hitting the blue waves, it bubbled into an ominous red, spreading like flame upon timber.
Their endeavour began not with a cry or act of aggression but a changing of tides.
His son stood on the water with expertise and well-earned pride, not even creating a ripple with his presence. With arms outstretched, Damian had turned the rivers of Heaven, Hell and the living world to a blood red.
A dream - a memory of his sweet boy - interrupted.
Lucifer had slept only half an hour before a volt of familiarity surged down his spine. He knew what Adam's aura felt like, and he knew Kushiel's - though the spat had been brief, a fight had taken place.
What was Kushiel doing in Hell? Hadn't he already reinforced that the turncoat coward should remain behind Mastema's wings?
He wasn't welcome in Hell. He shouldn't be allowed in Heaven, too, but they had to be soft; it wasn't even like the information Kushiel exchanged for his life was worth it.
