The Angel Fell Twice

Chapter 21. The Angel Fell Twice

Marina searched frantically, her heart pounding in her chest as she raced through the storm. The downpour soaked her to the bone, but she didn't care. She needed to find him—Ragnar. The twisted, yet somehow tender soul who had saved her when no one else dared. The one who, despite all the bloodshed and fury, had touched her heart in a way no other had.

When she finally saw him, he was staggering toward the World Tree, anger radiating from him like a dark aura. Desperation clawed at her as she screamed his name, her voice barely audible over the howling wind. "Ragnar!" she cried, rushing toward him. She grabbed onto him, her fingers digging into his rain-slicked skin. "What have you done, you fool?"

He stared at her, his eyes dull and weakening, the fire that had driven him flickering out. "I had to try. They treat us like nothing, and they hurt you..."

Marina's voice trembled, a mix of anger and sorrow. "Why do you care?... About all of this, about me...?"

His gaze softened as he looked at her, the harshness in his expression giving way to something more tender. "...When I saw you hurt, there was a pain in my heart," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rain. "It wouldn't stop. All these years, the only thing that kept me going was spite, but you made me lose that feeling. It started with that look in your eyes... the way they bore into my soul... you were the first to take care of me and I hated it. I thought I hated you... until I loved you."

Marina's breath caught in her throat. The man before her, this demon who had wrought so much destruction, was baring his soul to her. She could see the torment in his eyes, the conflict, the pain. If God's angel had been sent here to deliver divine retribution, then she had succeeded—horrifically, terribly, painfully. She had broken him, just as the world had tried to break her.

"You were truly always an angel," Ragnar coughed, a small, sad smile playing on his lips as his clawed hand gently cupped her face.

"Ragnar..." Her voice was a broken whisper, her heart shattering as she looked into his eyes.

With a final surge of strength, Ragnar wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. The rain cascaded around them, blurring the boundaries between their two solitary figures in the heart of the storm. He gazed up at her, his eyes filled with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the fury that had driven him just moments ago. She looked back at him, her eyes searching his face as he leaned in. Their lips met, and he kissed her deeply, his hand gripping her hair as though he was trying to hold onto her—and to life itself.

But when she pulled away, tears filled her eyes, and she felt the last breath leave his body. His eyes shut, his body going limp in her arms. "No.. Ragnar... P-please... DON'T LEAVE ME!" A wail of pure anguish tore from her throat as she cradled his lifeless form, the reality of his death crashing down on her. But it was too late.

Through her tears, she noticed a shadow looming behind her. Slowly, she turned, her gaze falling on Ragnar's fallen sword, still glowing faintly with the power of aether. Anger, pure and unfiltered, surged through her veins as she picked it up. She stood, the weight of the sword heavy in her hand, yet it felt right.

The Protector stood a short distance away, his golden sword gleaming in the dim light. His voice was steady, almost emotionless. "I had to."

The words cut through her like a blade, fanning the flames of her fury. Marina, the one-winged angel, stepped toward him, her grip tightening on Ragnar's sword. The Protector held his ground, his white armor pristine, his posture resolute.

But Marina didn't care about his resolve or his righteousness. She didn't care that she was injured, that one wing was bandaged and stained with her own blood. She didn't care that her body was battered, covered in grime and pain. All she saw was red—the blood of the man who had saved her, the blood of the only one who had shown her a real love.

With a scream of pure rage, she charged at the Protector, slamming the sword against his helmet with lightning speed. The impact knocked him to the side, his head snapping back from the force. Despite her injuries, despite the pain that wracked her body, Marina fought with the ferocity of a storm unleashed. The Protector staggered, momentarily caught off guard by the sheer intensity of her assault.

But Marina didn't relent. She attacked again and again, each strike fueled by a mix of grief and fury, her tears mingling with the rain as she unleashed all the pain, all the anger, all the love she had lost. The Protector blocked her strikes, but even he could see that this was not a battle of strength—it was a battle of souls, and Marina's was burning with a fire that even he couldn't extinguish.

The Protector deflected her blows with practiced precision. "Marina," he said, his voice calm despite the deafening clanging of steel, "You don't have to do this."

But Marina couldn't hear him. All she could see was Ragnar's lifeless body, the image seared into her mind. With a desperate cry, she drove Ragnar's sword into the Protector's chestplate. The blade sank in, and a massive blast of energy erupted from the impact. The sheer force of her strike pierced through the power of thousands of aether-empowered souls, their collective might unable to withstand her fury. The World Tree's leaves caught fire, the golden flames illuminating the night in a display that was both heavenly and hellish.

The Protector staggered, momentarily stunned by the impact. Marina didn't pause. Summoning lances of pure light, she directed them with deadly precision. The lances shot forward, pinning the Protector against the World Tree. They drove through his limbs, anchoring him to the sacred trunk. Blood seeped from the wounds, staining his once-pristine armor.

He looked at her, pain and sadness in his voice. "Marina, you're not a killer. You never were. Please, stop this."
Her voice trembled, filled with grief and anger. "Y-you deserve this... after everything you've done..."
"Don't do this," the Protector warned, his tone heavy with finality. The World Tree glowed brighter, its ancient power surging through him. Across Stormfell, thousands of citizens felt their strength drain as the aether was drawn into the Protector, amplifying his power.
But Marina was relentless. With a cry, she brought Ragnar's sword down onto the Protector's chestplate again. The enchanted armor cracked and shattered under the force of her blow, the pieces falling away to reveal the Protector's muscular form beneath. He realized, with a grim certainty, that she had somehow managed to break through the collective power of thousands aether-wielding people.

Gritting his teeth, the Protector tore his limbs free from the tree, ripping the lances out of his flesh. The pain was excruciating, but he pushed through it, his focus entirely on Marina. In a swift motion, he charged at her, too fast for her to react. She dodged easily, but he clung to her cloak, tearing off. The fabric fell away, revealing her angelic form—a single, tattered wing, and the other a bloody stump.
His voice softened, almost pleading. "Remember who you were, Marina. A pure angel, untouched by darkness. But now... even you are consumed by bloodlust. I know you're in pain. Please, calm down. I can help you find peace."
Marina's voice cracked as she screamed, "N-no... no... you killed him! YOU KILLED HIM!" She lunged at him, her body trembling with emotion, her single wing flapping desperately.
But the Protector didn't strike her down. Instead, with a swift, precise motion, he slashed at her remaining wing. The pain was overwhelming, and Marina's scream echoed through the air as her vision darkened. Her strength left her, and she collapsed, unconscious, into his waiting arms.

He held her gently, his voice heavy with sorrow as he began to chant an incantation. "You will forget everything... you will be one with aether... May you be blessed by her light."
Her vision faded to white.