My Stupid Human

Chapter 3

A few weeks have passed by between St. Nicholas and Andras discussion. St. Nicholas has been thinking of plans to help Andras heal before granting him what he truly longed for. For he will never tell the boy that, he wishes for him to figure it out on his own, guiding him towards his greatest wish.

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St. Nicholas's proclamation hung heavy in the air, each word a weight on Andras's shoulders. He bristled with defiance, his eyes flashing with anger as he stared down the elder figure before him.

"Return to the mortal world?" Andras scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Why should I obey your commands? I am no puppet to dance to your tune."

St. Nicholas's gaze remained steady, his expression a mix of sorrow and resolve. "You may deny it all you wish, Andras," he replied, his voice soft but firm. "But you know deep down that this is your path to redemption. The mortal world offers you a chance to right the wrongs of your past, to find the peace you seek."

Andras's fists clenched at his sides, his wings unfurling with a menacing rustle. "Peace?" he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "There is no peace for creatures like me. Only torment and regret."

St. Nicholas's expression softened, his eyes brimming with compassion. "You have suffered enough, my child," he said gently. "But you cannot let the shadows of your past consume you forever. There is still hope for you, if only you would embrace it."

But Andras was unyielding, his anger burning brighter with each passing moment. "I will not be your pawn," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I will not be shackled by your whims and desires. I am my own man, and I will forge my own path."

With a defiant flap of his wings, Andras turned away from St. Nicholas, his form shimmering with celestial energy as he prepared to depart. "Do not try to stop me," he warned, his voice a cold, unyielding echo in the stillness of the celestial realm. "For I will not hesitate to strike you down."

St. Nicholas watched in silence as Andras soared into the heavens, his heart heavy with sorrow for the lost soul he had once called his own. But he knew that Andras's journey was far from over, and that he would have to face his demons alone before he could find the redemption he so desperately sought.

St. Nicholas's patience wore thin as Andras continued to defy him, his words a sharp retort against the elder's plea for redemption. With a heavy heart, St. Nicholas realized that there was no reasoning with the stubborn fallen angel before him.

Sighing deeply, St. Nicholas knew what had to be done. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, invoking the ancient magic that bound the realms together. In an instant, Andras felt the ground beneath him dissolve into nothingness, his form enveloped by the swirling energies of the celestial realm.

Andras's wings beat against the unseen currents as he was hurtled through the fabric of reality, his mind a tempest of anger and confusion. The world around him blurred into a maelstrom of colors and shapes, the boundary between realms thinning with each passing moment.

And then, with a deafening roar, Andras burst through the barrier separating the celestial realm from the mortal world. The rush of wind whipped against his face as he plummeted through the skies, his wings struggling to maintain control amidst the chaos.

Down, down, down he fell, until finally, with a bone-rattling crash, Andras smashed through the roof of an apartment below. Wood splintered and shattered around him as he tumbled to the floor, his fallen angel form sprawled amidst the wreckage.