Chapter 4. New Comrade

Michaelis spread his wings, feeling the familiar rush of wind as he soared into the sky. He pierced the clouds, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of distress. His superhuman hearing picked up a faint cry for help, a desperate plea echoing from a nearby mosque.

Without hesitation, Michaelis swooped down, his wings beating fiercely as he descended upon the scene. He landed amidst a group of demons, their twisted bodies writhing like snakes as they attacked a group of Muslims praying in peace.

The demons, fueled by malevolent rage, had already slaughtered several worshippers, their bodies torn apart by razor-sharp claws. Michaelis charged forward, his swords flashing in the dim light.

"Detestable Demons of hell.. I am here as a punishment of the Creator, unto you. On this day, I shall descend your foul souls into the bottomless pit," Michaelis declared, his voice like thunder.

The demons cackled, their eyes blazing with hatred. "And who are you!?" one of them snarled, lunging at Michaelis with a jagged spear.

Michaelis sidestepped the attack, his sword slicing through the demon's chest like paper. The demon's body disintegrated, its essence burning with a fiery stench.

"I am Michaelis, the Angel of Death, born of Man, reborn in the Holy Spirit, tasked by the Almighty Creator, and I will always stand against thee, demons of hell."

The battle raged on, Michaelis fighting his way through the demonic horde. He severed limbs, crushed skulls, and shattered bones, his swords moving with deadly precision.

A massive demon, its body a twisted mass of muscle and scales, emerged from the shadows. "You'll never stop us!" it bellowed, its voice like an earthquake.

Michaelis smiled grimly. "I'll stop you, and I'll enjoy it."

With a swift strike, Michaelis beheaded the demon, its body crashing to the ground like a felled tree. The remaining demons fled in terror, abandoning their dark ritual.

As the last demon fell, Michaelis stood victorious, his chest heaving with exertion. He surveyed the carnage, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"It's over," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You're safe now."

The surviving worshippers, shaken but alive, emerged from their hiding places. They gazed at Michaelis with gratitude, their eyes shining with tears.

"Thank you, Angel of Death," one of them whispered, his voice trembling. "You saved us from the brink of hell."

Michaelis nodded, his expression somber. "I am here to descend the demons into the bottomless pit. It's my duty, my purpose."

As the worshippers tended to their wounded, Michaelis stood watch, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of further danger. He knew the forces of darkness would return, and next time, he'd be ready.

"Thank you, great Angel." the imam said, his voice filled with gratitude. "We owe you a debt of honor."

Michaelis smiled, his expression softening. "You owe me nothing, Imam. I'm just doing my duty."

The imam nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "We know what you are, servant of Allah. We know you're the Angel of Death. But we also know you're a protector, a guardian of the innocent."

Michaelis looked away, his eyes scanning the horizon. "I'm just trying to make a difference. I shall fulfil the task which was given to me by the Almighty Creator," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The imam placed a hand on Michaelis' shoulder. "You are making a difference, servant of Allah. You're a beacon of hope in a world filled with darkness." The imam said without fear.

As they spoke, a young boy, not less than twelve years of age, approached Michaelis, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Are you really the Angel of Death?" the boy asked, his voice filled with awe.

Michaelis smiled, kneeling down to the boy's level. "I am," he said, his voice gentle. "But I'm also a protector, a guardian of people like you."

The boy nodded, his eyes shining with excitement. "I want to be like you when I grow up," he said, his voice filled with determination.

Michaelis chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," he said, his voice teasing. "Being the Angel of Death isn't all fun and games."

The boy grinned, undeterred. "I don't care," he said, his voice firm. "I want to make a difference, just like you."

Michaelis smiled, feeling a sense of pride and purpose. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for the future after all. Perhaps the surviving humans will look up to the Heavens once again.

As Michaelis stood up, the boy's eyes widened in awe. "Wow, you're really tall!" he exclaimed.

Michaelis simply chuckled at the boy's innocence. He can't remember the last time he even smiled.

The imam cleared his throat, his expression serious. "Michaelis, we need to talk about what happened here today."

Michaelis nodded, his expression somber. "I know. The forces of darkness are getting bolder, more aggressive."

The imam nodded in agreement. "Yes, they are. And we need to do something about it."

Michaelis' eyes narrowed, his mind racing with possibilities. "I have a few ideas," he said, his voice thoughtful.

The imam raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What kind of ideas?"

Michaelis smiled grimly. "I think it's time we took the fight to them. We need to strike back against the forces of darkness, show them we won't be intimidated. Although I have been tasked with the extermination of the demons, but I can't do it alone. Humans need to stand up to the demons and resist them as well."

The imam's eyes widened in surprise. "That's a bold plan, Michaelis. But I think it's exactly what we need."

The boy, who had been quietly observing the conversation, spoke up. "Can I help?" he asked, his voice eager.

Michaelis smiled, his expression softening. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said, his voice gentle. "This is going to be dangerous."

The boy's face fell, but he nodded understandingly. "Okay," he said, his voice disappointed.

But then his face brightened. "Wait, I know something that might help!" he exclaimed.

Michaelis raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's that?"

The boy grinned mischievously. "I know a place the demons gather to meet their acolytes."

"And how do you know of this?" The imam questioned the little boy in shock.

"Ahmed told me about it today, just before the demons attacked the mosque."

Michaelis' eyes widened in surprise. "That's exactly what we need," he said, his voice filled with excitement.

The imam nodded, his expression serious. "Then it's settled. We'll use the passage to launch a surprise attack on the demons."

Michaelis grinned, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Let's do it."

*

The boy nodded, his face set with determination. "I'll show you the passage," he said, leading them through the winding streets of the city.

As they walked, Michaelis asked, "What's your name, by the way?"

"I'm Ali," the boy replied, his eyes shining with pride.

Michaelis smiled. "Well, Ali, you're a brave young man. I'm glad to have you on our side."

Ali beamed with pride, his face flushing with pleasure.

After a few minutes of walking, Ali stopped in front of a nondescript building. "This is it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Michaelis nodded, his eyes scanning the area. "Okay, let's move out."

They entered the building, finding themselves in a narrow, dimly lit corridor. Ali led the way, his feet padding softly on the stone floor.