Heaven is Unjust

Prologue

Angels screams as the ground exploded.
Bombs fell from aircraft and the barrier had been broken.

"Get to sky tower!" Uriel yelled at soldiers.
"Sir! The sky towers are collapsing!" A soldier pointed to the two sky towers the Celestial Realm had. They crumbled as each brick broke into pieces.
The tower became nothing but rubble, crushing Angels that weren't quick enough to leave the area.
Uriel cursed silently as the military bases had already been destroyed.
With low weapons, food, and supplies, he knew the Angels wouldn't last. Low rations and millions of Angels.
A gamble that they would end up losing.

Swords slashed and clashed as thunder rolled in the sky.

    Michael yelled as his sword clashed with another. Sweat beads on his head and his armor was covered in blood. The blood not being his own.
He blocked his enemy with his sword as he looked around his realm briefly. Only then, was it that he could hear the screams of his angels.
In his moment of distress, his enemy managed to throw his sword away with his own and slashed his face.

     The Angel yelled as he stumbled back from the blow. A bomb landing close to him, knocking him off his feet.

Footsteps approached rapidly. Michael opened his eyes to see his enemy hovering over him, holding his sword above his chest.
"I warned you, Saint Michael." His voice was low. "I asked you to give him back and you refused. You didn't give him back even though he wasn't an Angel to begin with!" He brought the sword down, Michael rolled out the way just as the sword hit the ground. The cloud-ground separating slightly in the process.

     "You abandoned him!" Michael yelled as he held his bad leg.
"He was weak."
"You want him back because he's stronger. That's not how this situation works!" Michael's voice was raspy as he yelled, standing up.
The chaos around the two seemed muffled and was merely a background.
It was just these two. Michael and his enemy and no one else. That's what it seemed to be, at least.

      "He was my own, my kind! He was my species!" Michael grit his teeth.
"Not anymore," Was the last straw as his enemy charged at him with a yell. Michael moved out the way, but his move was predicted as he was slashed in the arm and got knocked over.
The Angels fumbled and slightly rolled.

He laid on his back, his body not listening to his brain. He wanted to move. He wanted to scream, to yell, ask for help. Nothing.
Nothing came out of his mouth and his body couldn't move. The pain from his bad leg increased, surely because it was now a broken leg. He couldn't walk anymore. Instead, he desperately looked up at the man with the sword above his chest.
     "You aren't Michael because you're strong," he stabbed the Angel.
"You're strong because you're Michael."