Angelic Archives

"The anguished cries of the dying pierced the still morning air.

The battle had lasted all throughout the night, fires glinting off the instruments of death both sides came to bear; fury reflected in the faces of every combatant. The fighting was intense and frenetic, with blood filling every crevice and pooling at one's ankles in the mournful aftermath. There was never a conflict like it in Mettencell, and there never would be again.

The cause for such violence had long since died with the pundits and politicians who stoked the opening embers of the war, for the dawning minutes of the conflict saw billions of dead in an instant. The surviving enclaves of able-bodied soldiers, patriots, schoolteachers, laborers, lawyers, parents, and children were then armed to the teeth and sent forth to eradicate the other.

Shedding blood over the graves of billions of fellow Metten wasn't for everyone, and those caught attempting to desert were executed with impunity. Displays of cowardice, dishonor, and dereliction of duty were handled with extreme prejudice, and the survivors were molded into hardened, remorseless killers. Long after the last officer fell in battle, both sides continued to slay the other, bent and twisted beyond redemption, yearning only for the blood of the enemy.

Long since forgotten and even longer since forsaken, the Goddess stirred. Her children, the Metten, were no longer recognizable. For all their technological prowess and mastery over the universe, they forsook it all to brutalize each other in the ruins of their hollowed-out cities. Their cruelty an insult to Her nature, She created the Angel of Death, a pyrrhic solution to the affliction of mindless slaughter gripping Her world.

In a matter of days, Her agent had accomplished this grim task.

Every Metten was slain without warning and without mercy.

Every one that is, except for three. Surprised that any of Her people had managed to protect their souls from the bloodbath their society had devolved into, She appeared before them as Ana, with the Angel of Death at her side, hastening the departure of any impure Metten still stubborn enough to cling to life after the Cleansing. As the wounded were dispatched around their feet, these three were offered a choice: They could join their fellows in death, and be permanently wiped from existence, their race forgotten and never to be repeated. Or, as Ana declared, "You may undertake My trial and redeem the Metten. Your exile will be indefinite, and you shall know no peace until it is finished. Should you succeed, Mettencell shall be yours once again." Eager to receive the Goddess's mercy, all three humbled individuals accepted the trial, and were immediately banished to the Appatt dimension.

This is how the Ascendents as we know them came to be."

-Excerpt from On the Ascendents: A Brief Anthology, author unknown, Angelic Archives.