The Deadly Artifacts

The Battle Of The Purple Sky

PROLOGUE

Maybe one day I'll finally understand why do people always forget to appreciate the most ordinary moments of their lives. Or why do they have to put their ambition over everything that is really important. All that actually matters.

We are always chasing things we do not necessarily need. Praise, status, power... Is it ever enough? No. Yet it'd be quite hypocrite of me to judge any of you. Sometimes I catch myself wondering if my lust for greatness and greed are still the only things keeping me somewhat human, flawed and mortal, although I ain't. Not anymore.

Lust has always been my core sin and the reason I'm now trapped in this cage of lies, hopeless and soulless. I rose too high and fell hard to the ground, paying the price for my mistakes. I guess that's what makes us humans, in the end: Our ability to fail gracefully.

Truth is, we were all born with a clear vision, though it is with blindness that we fall to our graves.

At this very moment there is only emptiness inside me. A void that can only be filled with a human soul-- something that I've lost a long time ago, and tried relentlessly to recover since I can remember. But I did not ask for this. I was born for the killing, for the unforgiving lightning that would tear up the skies and for the clash of blades and bones.

I've watched my species with indifferent eyes as they ripped apart their own lungs and drowned into the black oceans of despair, thinking that maybe it would grant them eternal life. Or even peace.

The sad part is: it would not. It never did. Peace is for the ones who can afford it, and we mortals surely can't. Too high its cost. Though it's interesting how we always come up with ways to cheat the codes, to believe there's a way out of misery. Religion is just a consequence to that urge of explaining the unfathomable, that all humans are born with.

It is both a cancer and a cure for those who indulge in it.

Deep down, everyone wants to know if there is really heaven or hell, angels or any other beings with wings, horns, strange shapes and supernatural powers; and what those things can do to you. Well, that's where the brain-wanking starts: the inevitable fear of death. Or worse, to be a tad more specific, the fear of what comes after.

You see, been there, done that. And I promise you, wherever you're sent to after this is not a cozy place to visit.

Angels and demons do exist, if that's what you're wondering. But none of them are at our side or fighting for the sake of our meaningless existence. Why would they, anyway? Just because God said so? Bullshit. God's asleep and there's no one left to save us from doom. Keep in mind that salvation costs a price and it cannot be bought with fake good actions, nor with gold. It demands blood and the ashes of all that you hold dear. It demands sacrifice. It demands war.

Evil spirits interfere in the human world for sheer fun. They do not exactly want our turmoil and chaos, if fact they're just entertained by it. That's because long ago, the Great Battle of The Purple Sky happened, causing Lucifer to fall on this Earth and since then the heavenly deities decided to counter anything that he and his allies dared to do.

Therefore, if a demon tried to provoke the death of a mortal, an angel would only prevent such an act to displease him. Simple as that. We are not spiritually privileged beings or none of that crap people come up with. Actually, it's pretty embarassing that humans still think of themselves as special snowflakes. I mean, get a grip, you shitheads.

There are seven artifacts created by Lucifer for the princes of hell to torment mortals even further, those are vessels to their powers and a promise that one day there would be vengeance against the Archangels and their sleeping God. A promise that the true apocalypse many prophets have only dreamed of but written nothing about would soon come unleashing fire, destroying everything we've ever known. These objects have been forged in the dark flames of Sheol and enhanced over the centuries, each with a different and malignant function.