Gasoline | Final Destination |

| s i x t e e n |

Heaven was not supposed to echo with screams.

Michael stepped through the gates and ascended the crystalline steps to the celestial court, his wings rigid with foreboding. Whispers of chaos had reached him, a disturbance in the divine order, a wound in the heart of paradise. His boots echoed against the translucent marble, each step heavier than the last.

As he crested the final stair, his breath caught, sharp and jagged. "What in Father's name...?" The grand hall, a bastion of eternal light, was a graveyard. Angelic bodies sprawled across the floor, their wings shredded, feathers scattered like ash after a wildfire. The stench of divine ichor stung his nostrils, a blasphemy in this sacred place.

The bodies lay still, eyes wide in fear.

And then he saw her.

In the center of the carnage stood Thana, her black-and-crimson wings unfurled, a stark defiance against the pale wreckage around her. Her eyes burned with demonic fire, twin embers in a face carved from fury and pain.

Her scythe, slick with angelic blood, rested against her shoulder, its curved blade glinting in the dimming light. Beside her, trembling but untouched, stood her mother, Seraphina, her angelic glow faded, her face etched with anguish.

"Uncle Michael," The redhead drawled, her voice a venomous caress. "Come to sweep up the mess? Or are you here to join it?"

Michael's grip tightened on his flaming sword, its divine fire casting long shadows across the ruined hall. His gaze swept the devastation, cherubim, seraphim, guardians, all broken. "You've defiled the sacred, Thana," he said, his voice low, trembling with restrained rage. "This... slaughter. Even for you, this is monstrous."

Her smirk widened, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of something raw, a wound she'd buried deep. "Monstrous?" she echoed, stepping forward, her boots crunching over shattered feathers. "You've called me that since I was a child, Uncle. The half-breed. The abomination. Lucifer's spawn tainting your precious Heaven." She tilted her head, her smirk twisting into a sneer. "Tell me, how does it feel to see your prophecy come true?"

Seraphina's voice, soft but desperate, cut through the tension. "Thana, please. This isn't you. You're more than this darkness."

Thana's gaze snapped to her mother, her expression darkening. "Don't," she hissed, her wings twitching with agitation. "You don't get to say that. Not after you dragged me here, chained me like some beast for your divine intervention." She spat the words, her voice cracking with betrayal. "You think you can fix me? Make me one of your shining angels?"

Seraphina's hands clasped together, her knuckles white. "I love you, Thana. I've always loved you. This was to save you, not cage you."

"Save me?" Thana laughed, a cold, jagged sound that echoed off the blood-streaked walls. "You think I want your salvation? I am Death, Mother. I am the end. And you—" She pointed her scythe at Seraphina, though her hand trembled. "You brought me here to strip me of that."

Michael stepped forward, his sword blazing brighter, its heat warping the air around him. "Enough," he growled. "You'll answer for this, Thana. Heaven's justice is absolute, and you've earned its wrath."

Michael didn't wait for her to strike first.

Their blades clashed, and divine and demonic energies erupted in a blinding cascade. Sparks rained down, sizzling against the marble. Thana moved like a storm, her scythe a blur of death, each swing fueled by years of resentment.

Michael, though mighty, faltered under her onslaught. She was no longer the young girl he'd dismissed, the child he'd taunted for her tainted blood. Now, she was a force—half-angel, half-demon, and wholly unstoppable.

Sparks flew as weapons clashed, Michael's blade seared across Thana's shoulder as she let out a demonic screech. She kicked him away, slamming him through a marble pillar as dust and debris rained down upon him.

"You thought I'd stay weak forever," Thana snarled, her scythe grazing his shoulder, slicing through armor like parchment. Michael grunted, his wings faltering. "You thought you could keep me under your boot, whispering I'd never be anything but a monster."

Michael parried, his sword flashing, but his movements grew sluggish; his side was silver with blood seeping through the cracks in his armor. "You prove it with every breath," he rasped, his voice thick with pain but unyielding. "You're nothing but destruction, Thana. A tool of your father's chaos."

She stilled, and for a heartbeat, the mask cracked. Something deep, something old and raw, flickered behind her glowing eyes. Then she smiled maliciously. "Then I'll stop pretending I'm anything else." She raised her blade.

"Thana!" Her mother's voice cut through the silence. "I begged them to spare you. I fought for you. Please, don't do this. You're not what he says. You're my daughter, not a monster!"

Thana froze, her gaze shifting to her mother. Her scythe wavered, but her eyes hardened. "Then why am I here, Mother?" she demanded, her voice low and dangerous. "How did you know where I was? How did you trap me?" She stepped closer, her wings casting a shadow over Seraphina. "Tell me the truth!"

Seraphina's eyes brimmed with tears, her silence a weight that crushed the air.

Thana's breath hitched, her scythe lowering slightly. "You won't tell me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Tell me... how did you *find* me? How did Heaven suddenly know where Death herself was hiding?"

Michael's laughter, weak but venomous, slithered through the silence. He leaned back, blood staining his lips, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. "She doesn't need to, Thana," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "You were betrayed... by someone you love most."

Thana's eyes widened, her wings drooping as the words sank in. "No..." she breathed, her voice a mask of fracturing pain. "You're lying."

Michael's smirk grew, even as he clutched at his wound. "Lucifer," he hissed, savoring each syllable. "Your precious father sold you out. You're nothing but an abomination to him as well. Too evil, he said. Death is balance, niece. He wanted this, too."

The scythe clattered to the ground, its impact reverberating through the ruined hall. Thana's hands shook, her face contorted with rage and betrayal. "Father?" she whispered, her voice breaking. Her eyes darted to Seraphina, searching for a denial, a flicker of hope. "Is it true? Did he... did he do this?"

Seraphina's tears fell, her hands reaching out for her daughter, but Thana recoiled, her wings flaring in warning.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed, her voice raw with anguish. The air grew heavy, the golden light flickering as if Heaven itself were collapsing under her grief. Thana's chest heaved, her breath ragged, as she glared between Michael and her mother. "You both... all of you... everyone"

Michael coughed, more blood spilling, but his smirk never faded. "You can't run from it, Thana," he taunted. "You're alone. You always will be."

Thana's eyes snapped to him, her pain igniting into fury. She snatched her scythe from the ground, her grip white-knuckled. "I'm done with you," she snarled, raising her blade. "I'm done with all of this."

Seraphina lunged forward, her voice a sob. "Thana, no! Please, you don't have to do this!"

But Thana's gaze was distant, cold, unyielding. "You made your choice, Mother," she said, her voice a chilling promise. "Now I'll make mine."

The air shimmered, the light trembled, and the hall fell silent, as if awaiting her next move. Thana's wings twitched, her shadow swallowing the light. Her sythe gives one more fatal slash before a terrible calm. "This isn't over," she whispered, her voice a vow that echoed with finality.

The world would burn before she let it cage her again.