ALL NOVEL Stars don’t burn, they scream
You would have thought that after millions of years, things would be different but it wasn't the case at all,’ Kokabiel mused while watching from afar a star that had consumed all of its hydrogen began to turn into a supernova.
It was always the same thing. It was always the same joy, the same issues, the same fear, the same hatred.
He missed his father and his brother to be honest. When they were still alive, things were more simple.
It was just fighting, trying to kill the other, nothing else. Unfortunately, things had changed. They were now saddled with a word that he hated so much, responsibility.
They were supposed to care about those weaker than them under their banner. They were supposed to be fine with the stalemate between the Abrahamic factions.
Kokabiel could only see it as an insult. How many have died in the goal of things changing? How many have died so that a new world order would be created? How many have died so that they could avenge their Nephilim children butchered by Gabriel and Uriel?
This stalemate, this piece was nothing else but an insult to his dead siblings. Change, Kokabiel yearned for it like a dehydrated man in the desert.
Azazel, the fool thought of ushering it! Around him, the infinite darkness of space began to burn. Azazel thought of trampling everything that they'd ever fought for.
Make peace with the devils? The Lesser spawns of the demons that had betrayed in the past their fallen brethren?
The angels, those sanctimonious winged bastards more robots than living beings that chose to slaughter their own kin with smiles on their faces?
Kokabiel was many things but one of the things he wasn't was a hypocrite. He would not accept an end where both angels and devils were not crushed.
The star, it was near its end “You lived long my child,” the fallen angel spoke.
The star spoke in a language that Kokabiel was the last being to understand “My duty, did I do it well?” the star asked through hazes of solar flare and light emissions.
“You executed your duty without fail,” Kokabiel reassured the dying star. “I am proud and I know that they would be too.”
As if his words were the trigger, Kokabiel felt the light, the soul of the star fades away leaving behind an empty husk.
Kokabiel directed the palm of his right hand to the corpse of the star. Threads of what seemed to be light began to grow from the dead star and toward the fallen angel.
The light touched the hand of the fallen angel and for a moment, it seemed as if the universe was holding his breath.
The star lost its shape and like in a vortex plunged itself into the fallen angel's hand. The fallen Angel's eyes lit up. The darkness made form that was adorning his wings was chased away to take the shape of snow-white wings with geometrical markings and Enochian runes. A halo of gold flickered over his head.
Kokabiel has met Death. Where most feared her and did everything to hide from her gaze, Kokabiel didn't. When he had almost died fighting against one of the inheritors of the aspects of his father when he had laid broken, She was there in all her beauty and looking at the endless, Kokabiel had an epiphany.
Why should he fear death when she was so beautiful? Why should he fear nothingness when the most beautiful things never fade away?
Even if he died, his cause would endure way after he was gone if it was the right one and Kokabiel knew that he was right.
God was dead, his inheritors were either dead with him or reduced to a shadow of their former selves.
The watcher gritted his teeth in pain as he felt it crawling, moving In his back. His agony was ended by the growth of another pair of wings.
It meant one thing, that his throne was up to be usurped. The watcher, no the Seraphim let his gaze pierce through the different layers of heaven to an empty room with a throne, to the place where they had stood alone so different and more than any other angel their Father had made.
Kokabiel will win against the devils and the angels, will crush them. He will do the same thing to any pagan dating to put themselves in his way and in the end, he will claim the throne not because of birthright but because of his hardships, of his will.
“My lord Kokabiel, we've finished the task you instructed us,” a fallen angel said behind him.
“I am no lord, Ariel,” Kokabiel answered the fallen angel without looking. “We are siblings fighting for what needs to be done, for what is just. Lordship is a concept that was created by a narcissistic and egotistical piece of shit with an inferior complex so that he could feel that he matters, that he would be able to escape her.
He finally turned to look at the other fallen angel. Ariel had been a Cherubim before his fall. His eight wings highlighted that fact.
Ariel had fallen because he had been compassionate. The cherubim had been sent on a mission where he was supposed to kill a Nephilim child fallen angel and cadre Armaros.
Ariel had sneaked into the city where the child lived disguised as a frail old woman. Ariel hadn't known what the Nephilim looked like so he had to stay longer to determine who was his target.
While on this mission, Ariel built involuntarily what could be called a friendship with one of the children of the city. The child was called Amos.
The child had seen a frail old woman living by herself and had tasked himself since the first time he had seen her to make things easier for her.
The child each time that his mother was cooking would divide his portion to share with the disguised angel or he would try to help the frail old woman walk by letting her lean on him.
It lasted for 7 months. Ariel had admitted to him that they at that time forgotten that they were on a Heaven-sanctioned mission.
The world was cruel. It was just a question of time before something bad would happen and like everything that goes wrong, it began because of devils.
A group of devils had waited until Armaros wasn't there to attack. Most of them did little to no damage due to the fact that the city of humans they attacked had its defenders trained and instructed by Armaros.
One devil was able to sneak into the city and unluckily, the first ones that he saw were the disguised Ariel and the child.
The devil had attacked them trying to make some bloodshed before his inevitable demise. Amos had been scared not for only himself but also for the old woman that he was now considering as family.
Amos had used the power that he inherited from his fallen angel sire, the power to undo everything and had used it on the devil.
The devil had been brought back to the nothing of the before of his creation. A child had to kill and taint their innocence to protect someone.
Amos had killed for Ariel and Ariel was supposed to kill Amos. Ariel at that moment had told him that he knew at that moment that it was impossible for him to succeed in his mission.
Ariel knew that as long as he disobeyed the decree of the heavens, he would be banned at best and killed at worst.
Ariel sacrificed everything that he ever held dear, the love of his father and his siblings, the Heaven he grew up in for the child of a fallen angel and because of this, the Cherubim fell.
The disguised Cherubim had waited that night after most were asleep to leave the city. When Kokabiel had first met him, the other fallen had been in the act of ending his own life.
Armaros had known since the beginning that Ariel even disguised had been an angel but had done nothing. He had wanted to wait to see if the Cherubim had been a threat or could become an ally so when Ariel had tried to end himself, something that was unfortunately common from newly fallen angels, Kokabiel had been ready to intervene and stop him.
“Do you remember what you asked me when we first met?” Kokabiel asked the fallen angel.
Ariel chuckled “Yes, I remember. My existence is now worthless. Why do you search to preserve it?” Ariel had asked him.
Kokabiel had replied by saying “Losing your life would hurt Amos. He killed for you because he loves you, he thinks that you are worth something. You lost everything. It’s not an end, just a beginning if you let us help you.”
He had presented his hand to the other fallen waiting for him to grab it “Let us give more than everything you lose.”
“Your life, give it to us and I promise you under the aether and over the abyss, before the endless that I’ll do my best so that when you leave this world, you won't be full of regrets”.
Kokabiel had felt the attention of the endless on him yet he hadn't faltered. “I don't understand why. I serve to nothing, I'm useless and yet you're here a ten-winged angel swearing before ethereal forces that you'll take care of me,” Ariel had spoken puzzled while looking at Kokabiel’s hand.
“It's simple, all lives are worth it. The only way we were shown that we mattered, that we deserved his love was because of usefulness but love, true love is free and unconditional. I, dream, want a world where all of my siblings can find happiness without having to sacrifice themselves for it.”
The angel had grabbed his hand “That dream of yours, it is beautiful.”
“What's your name?” the fallen angel had asked.
“Kokabiel, the angel of the stars,” he had answered.
His reminiscence was cut by Ariel. “I still don't understand how you can still have white wings.”
“I don't really know why,” he replied. “Maybe my actions are in accordance with what my father would have wanted and because of this, the system that he had built before his demise gave them back to me.”
There were doubts written on the face of Ariel. “Do you truly believe it is the cause?”
“No,” Kokabiel admitted. “I think that those wings, I gained them back because I wanted them.”
“I don't really follow you. If it was the case, all fallen would have back into his Heavens,” Ariel told him.
Kokabiel could understand his line of thinking. How many fallen had thought that virtuous acts would shed the dark of their wings?
How many fallen had gone on pilgrimages, falling prey to stronger beings so that they could get back his love?
How many fallen had thought that falling on their own sword would absolve themselves of their sins so that for less than an instant, they would be able to feel again his love? All for naugh.
“Not in that sense. I did not ask for his forgiveness and even if he had given it to me,
I wouldn't have accepted it. It happened because I stopped believing that I Kokabiel deserved everything wrong that had happened to me,” Kokabiel spoke.
“My fall from heaven, the loss of my children, the loss of those that fought in my banner, the lives I took. After all those millions of years of war, survival and endless slaughter, I had thought that I deserved it.”
Kokabiel chuckled “The next time that I see the spectre, I'll have to thank him. He made me realize that everything I've done was right. I'm sure that it wasn't his goal but he made me realize that the loss of my children at the hands of Gabriel, that all of those things, that they weren't my fault.”
Ariel was gaping at him “You are talking of self-actualization. If what you say is true, it'll change everything.”
“Or maybe nothing,” Kokabiel added. “Even if all fallen rose up to their former forms, do you think that they would forgive, that they could forget everything their brethren, those that never fell did to them?”
“You’re right,” Ariel admitted his shock having been turned into disappointment.
At the level of his right ear, a little blazing violet circle appeared surrounding it. Kokabiel went back to focusing on the stars.
Ragiel and his tools. His older brother liked to craft and create things. In the beginning, his interest had only been around weapons and He could not restrain the chuckle that escaped Kokabiel cosmetics.
Kokabiel and the others had always lorded it over Ragiel’s head each time they thought that the ego of their older brother needed to be checked.
One of the reasons Kokabiel wanted to win this war was to undo every curse or mistake his father had inflicted on the world.
Ragiel even if it seemed hard to believe had before the flood truly fallen in love with a human woman. They had children. Kokabiel even to this day had never seen Azazel more happy, more proud.
Ragiel had been their leader so when the wrath of the heavens fell on them, the one that was personally singled out by their Father had been Ragiel. His name was taken from him.
His children whom he loved dearly tortured and beheaded before his eyes, the soul of the woman he loved extinguished, completely destroyed.
Their father twisted him, changed his nature and gave him the name of the scapegoat, of Azazel. When they had all been imprisoned under the Earth in the darkness, his brother was buried with the decaying corpses of his children.
If that wasn't enough, when they were able to free themselves, they would learn with anguish and sadness that Ragiel now Azazel was cursed by their father, unable to bring children into the world again.
Curses, blessings, they were all the same at their root. They were only seen as different because of whether the ones touched by them found them boons or not.
This was why Azazel studied sacred gears with such zeal. This was the reason why his brother had done things that a younger him would have puked at.
Azazel wanted to break the curse inflicted on him by studying the blessings of gods, the sacred gears and the system that their father left before his demise.
Azazel was more a living corpse than anything else. Maybe only Kokabiel could see it, but in his eyes, his brother was already dead.
He had lost the most precious thing he ever had, his wife and children. It was clear that all the debauchery the older fallen threw himself in was to forget, maybe to fill the gaping hole in his heart left by the death of his loved ones but it was clear so far that it was useless.
Kokabiel knew that the only reason why his older brother hadn't faded was because his new name of scapegoat made him unable to.
That's why Kokabiel needed to win. It wasn't only for himself and his pride, it was for his family.
“Everything is ready Kokabiel,” Ariel said behind him.
Kokabiel turned his focus on Earth more precisely at the Vatican in Rome. The Pope, the supposed chosen, the bridge between the heavens and the Earth was preaching about things Kokabiel didn't see the importance in trying to know.
Around him were cardinals, modern living saints, exorcists of high rank, those aware of the supernatural world.
“Give them the signal,” the twelve wings angel whispered.
“Do it now!” he heard Ariel say into the violet magic circle.
“This is why we nee-”. The words from the pope were cut short by a blade in his throat, a demonic blade.
He could see realization enter in the eyes of the others by the widening of their eyes. Unfortunately for them, the surprise of Kokabiel didn't stop at that.
The sword embedded in the flesh of the Pope began to shine brightly before detonating. The fastest of them were able to rush out of the room and the strongest of them just tanked the blast. The others that were not strong enough or fast enough or even lucky enough died.
With his eyes, Kokabiel could see that other parts of the Vatican were exploding. He watched as buildings fell and crushed in a pulp shocked believers. Children, believers, non-believers, priests, nuns, Death came to all of them indiscriminately. Thousand of deaths, thousands of lives wiped away in a mere moment
He watched how they died praying and cursing a god that would never answer. “I hope that the demonic energy of the weapons was potent enough,” Kokabiel murmured.
“According to our calculations, the miasma of demonic energy would be so thick that it would be able to be seen even by mundane. Because of his nature, it's just a question of time before the death count rises. Even if the angels come from heaven now, it wouldn't matter, I made sure of this,” Ariel told him.
“You or the fae?” Kokabiel teased him.
“Most of the work came from me. It's just that their technology and magic are impossible to understand. It's as if the more I try, the less it makes sense,” Ariel spoke.
Fairies, Fairfolks, monsters, the mad ones. They all came in many forms and They had many names. What defined them as a race was the collective madness that they had inherited from their forefather.
The first Fae had been a Nephilim. The Nephilim's name had been Absalom and he had been the only child that Kokabiel had ever brought into the world.
The Nephilim had seen how his brethren were being butchered by Gabriel and the angels under his banner. Absalom had seen how the Watchers were broken and chained before the demiurgic archangel.
Kokabiel had been connected to his child mentally and the fear that had been coursing through the veins of his child had been what Kokabiel could only call primal, devoid of all thought.
Kokabiel had taught his child how to talk to the stars and celestial bodies. His child combined the magic the Grigori taught and the power he had inherited to make something spectacular.
His child was able to make himself be noticed by Delirium. He begged the endless to save his life and the endless accepted by changing the Animus, the very core being of his child. Absalom was claimed by Delirium and with it, Kokabiel lost his child. Absalom died and Oberon was born.
Absalom and his descendants after him decided to live in the realm of the endless, something that warped them even more.
They knew things that made reality scream in agony when uttered, their magic and their craft were something beyond understanding capable of feats that were equal to the ones made by the twins Michael and Helel.
Absalom even though he has been warped was still his child and had kept even in his madness his hatred for Kokabiel’s father, something that all of his descendants also inherited. That hatred also involved everything that his father had created.
When he had ventured into the twisting and maddening realm of the endless and asked the help of The Faes in unmaking everything that his father had built, they accepted it.
Even though Kokabiel would have liked to personally start the new great war, doing such would have only resulted in him losing more of his siblings fallen.
Instead, Kokabiel had decided to make his task easier simply by blaming the devils. It's as if they would be believed if they denied that the attack was coming from them because no one trusted them.
Heaven and hell would enter into war, making each other bleed. Kokabiel would wait, be patient and strike at the first good occasion.
The game was on and Kokabiel had never been fond of losing. It was time for the world to change. It was time for a new god to take and seat on the throne.
Fuck canon. I didn't want with this fic to follow it so yeah beginning of a second great war