Disappear: Into Shadow

- CHAPTER FIFTY ONE -

The smoke of the escapees, having long since left the ruined spires of Tartarus, swirled through the towers of the Silver City. Darkening the Heavens, their black clouds shaded the city's reflected light. Every soul across the Elysian plains shivered and looked up towards the clouds.

From inside the gutted mountain ward, Michael, Susan, and Gunny could see the topmost strata of black clouds on the distant horizon. Beyond the shattered remnants of the keep, lightning burst from inside the clouds and traced ragged fingers across the sky.

Susan clutched Michael tight. The devastation around them and the look on Gunny's face told her all she needed to know. Something was horribly wrong. Michael held out his hand, assessing the depth of shadow falling on it, gauging the available light escaping through the storm clouds. "Shade has certainly announced his presence to the spiritual world," Michael said. "The Silver City must be taking a pounding."

Gunny was speechless but the shadow on the Heavens did not remain for long.

The storm front funnelled itself away from the city. It fanned out towards the Styx. When the smoke hung over the black waters of the great river, the respective blackness of water and sky echoed the darkness of each other. The clouds broke apart and the smoken bodies of the escapees fell from the sky, splashing down one after the other into the great river of life and death.

Michael could see the tops of the Heavenly spires again. The reflecting lights of the city shone bright over the mountains around the shattered prison. Nothing moved in the unnatural, oppressive silence of the Tartarus. Gunny was the first to speak, "I can't believe this."

"This isn't what you signed on for, right?" Michael asked.

"Of course it wasn't!" Gunny said.

"Your master did this!" Michael yelled back. "You're party to it!"

"Stop it!" Susan screamed. "Stop fighting! This isn't helping anything. We're all angry and scared right now."

Michael said, "Susan's right, fighting each other isn't helpful."

Gunny nodded his grudging agreement.

"How bad is this?" Susan asked. "As this looks and feels?"

Gunny shook his head back and forth, making a mental tally. "It's probably much worse."

"Great." Michael said.

"The last time I was here," Gunny told them, "All these shelves were filled with spheres. You can figure out how bad it is."

"How many spheres would you guess were in here?" Michael asked.

"The equivalent of millions of years of exorcisms and hunts, I'd say. The entire history of Azrael's protection of life was here. Millions of years of stored wickedness was released." Gunny shrugged. "There's simply too many to count right now."

"That pretty much summed it up for me." Susan said.

"Alright, what else do we know?" Michael asked.

Both Susan and Gunny said, "Nothing."

"Shade did this." Michael said. "What did you call the spectacle of blotting out the Silver City? It was a calling card."

"Or a diversion," Gunny said.

"Do you know that?" Michael asked, then added, "I'm not trying to pick a fight."

"One last time, Michael, I didn't know about this. I've told you everything I know and I'll reap the consequences when I see Azrael. Are we clear?"

"We're clear." Michael agreed.

"There's one very important aspect you missed." A stranger's voice called out. It echoed through the roofless halls creasing Tartarus' back like exposed veins opened and bled dry. A rosy melody, this rare voice dripped with charisma. Slipping through the air, an Angel, wings spread, shone with golden brilliance. The light cast by his presence matched the colour of his hair and eyes. A long sword in a golden sheath hung at his side. The red tassels of his cincture swung by his feet. The pristine breastplate and robes of white were hot with reflected light.

Michael shielded his eyes from the glare. When Angel floated towards them, Gunny shouted a warning, "Malakhim!" He stumbled backwards against the shattered shelves lining a wall. He blended in with the rock and wood taking on it textures, colours and shapes. In his chameleon guise he was prepared to escape. Michael saw Gunny wasn't used to facing an Angel of Wrath up close. It was policy to evade them. Fortunately for Michael, he couldn't remember what he was really supposed to do. He had seen many Angels in the memories Raziel had shown him and Michael didn't feel the need to run and hide.

"Gunny, it's okay," Michael called out. "He would have attacked us already if he thought we were to blame."

"The soul speaks the truth." The Angel said.

Gunny wasn't convinced. He remained in his hiding place, wanting to know more. He asked, "What's this big aspect we're missing?"

The Angel smiled, floating towards a series of purple splatters on the stone floor that led to a much larger stain. He pointed at the mess below his hovering celestial toes. "Whatever allowed that horde to be released they were witnessed by an Angel. However, judging by the stains, they may not be with us anymore. Whoever it was suffered a torturous assault."

The neo was taken by how short the Angel was. Michael could almost look him directly in the eyes. If he wasn't floating, Michael figured they were the same height. It was a new experience for Michael not to crane his neck while conversing with an Angel.

"My name is Ariel." The Angel said. He floated towards Michael. "I know you did not cause this devastation, or allow that storm to be released. However, if you are Outcasts as I suspect you are, you are in violation of your banishment from these Heavens."

"Meaning?" Gunny's voice asked from a new shadowy hiding place.

"I should be taking each of you into custody for interrogation in the Silver City."

"Is that what you plan to do?' Michael asked.

"I have yet to make my decision." Ariel replied.