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Author : Mortals against gods

Have you ever questioned your existence? maybe we are just characters in a story or frankly just a spark between worlds of fiction. Daniel questioned himself constantly on the truth behind creation, ever since the uncanny scar had been imprinted on his life. Revenge wasn't an option, because the perpetrator behind all of it was far greater than anyone. He was the Author, and Daniel was simply a character within his story. A simple life was all he wanted, but reality had a different path for him. His world would later collide with another, bringing forth an apocalypse filled with suffering. His question had reached an abrupt end, and his morale filled with dents of revenge. He only thought of one thing, and I suppose I would serve it as a question. What if you had to go against the plot? What if you had to battle the creator of your world for peace?. There are many more to it, but I promise. This story answers it all.

Starslide · Fantasía
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91 Chs

Rebirth

Undeniably firm, the grip of devastation held unto the soul of a fallen angel. He had known immortality since his birth, but all that laid waiting henceforth was death.

Death was a blank space for him. He had no idea it would be so suppressing, and cold. His eyes had seen life, and destruction had been his field.

A part of him scavenged for lost memes, serving as a last flashback for the life he lived. Camael was finally standing before the gates of death, and his path was oblivious.

Was there a heaven or a hell? If angels die, where would they fall within? These were questions which coursed through the minds of psychologists around the Globe.

Finding himself within this facade, there was no answer to his stifling questions. They piled up like a heap of hay in a farm barn, and an afterlife was a wish he begun to yearn for.

The fallen angel, Camael lay still on the operating table. His body was covered in bruises and cuts, with his blood draining slowly on the metal bed.

Machines beeped rhythmically as various tubes were connected to his body. His breath felt denser in every stroke, and time seemed short for the activists of science.

The room was filled with beeping monitors and hushed voices, with the clatter of surgical instruments reverberating through the room.

As smart as they were, these surgeons in their sterile uniforms worked meticulously with fear of losing their only hope of freedom.

"Again!!!"

Buzz!!! Buzz!!

"We are losing him!!! He had sustained more damage than we thought!"

" Try everything to bring him back alive!! Our forces cannot defeat that monster!"

"3, 2,1 !! Now!!"

The surgeons quickly struck the defibrillator in the chest of Camael. A surge of electricity passed through him, as they attempted to resurrect the fallen angel.

Buzz!! Buzz!!!

" Wake him up!! If we knew this would happen, we would have placed the mission at bay. He is humanity's last hope"

" His pulse is dying down sir!!!"

" Well, strike once more. Strike his body till he wakes up from the grasp of death. If we can turn him to our side, this war will have some hope."

" Don't die on us. Again!!!"

"Prepare for another defibration! Set the charge to 300 joules. 3, 2, 1!!"

Buzz!!!!

" huffff !!!"

Camael's pulse amplified once more but set into a normal one on this turn. The surgeons and Director of Defence heaved a sigh of satisfaction, as he was their only chance in defeating the disaster of man.

"He's back, we have a pulse! Good work lads.", a surgeon uttered.

The tension in the room lessened, but the sense of unease remained. The surgical team looked at each other with worried faces, as the next step was disposing of the bullets in the outer section.

Camael breathed slowly as the ventilator was placed over his face. The surgeons continued disposing of the bullets which had been struck into his body, with a sigh of relief.

" Proceed with the next step!!"

The surgeons nodded and continued working tirelessly to save Camael. The secret directive given by the director was commenced, with absurd swiftness afterwards.

The doors of the operating unit swung open, as a man clad in white walked in with pace. He caressed through the room with authority and picked up a surgical tool.

" It's an honour to meet you once again Doctor Banner. I believe the best case is to proceed with the surge."

" You mean the memory wipe??"

" Obviously, Doctor Banner. We cannot afford a case where he becomes a second apocalypse to us. We should remove any lingering memories for our safety."

"Certainly Director. Prepare the memory erasure sequence", he responds whilst turning to the surgeons.

The surgeons drag an ominous machine towards the body of Camael. It was clad in wires and blinking lights as a complex array of electrodes embodied it.

Attaching the electrodes to the temple of Camael, they increase the power input which twitches his face for a second. The machine hums to life with its lights blinking faster and brighter.

The Director walks closer to the twitching body of Camael with a stern and cold look on his face. A nurse shakes aback in terror, questioning herself on the current act.

" Are we doing the right thing??", she staggers backwards.

" Maybe we aren't, but we don't have a choice.", Director responds coldly.

The lights flicker a bit, with an obnoxious atmosphere of unpredictability around. Camael's eyes open slowly, with his demeanour disoriented and filled with pain.

He groans a grasps his head, as sharp strikes of pain continue flickering in his brain.

Lifting his upper body, he glances around with a confused expression.

" Where .....am I?? and who are you?", Camael questions with a raspy voice.

"Oh great, you are awake. Been wondering when your senses would kick in."

The Director walks to Camael and stretches his hand, presenting a handshake. Camael looks weirdly at the hand and lifts his head back up.

" I see, that's new. I thought everyone did handshakes. Well, we saved you from a great battle. It's amusing how you are still alive." The director smirks

"My head....it doesn't feel quite right.", Camael responds.

" That is bothersome. Nevertheless, it might be an effect of the trauma from battle. Needless to say, you were our greatest asset against the monster.", Director replied sympathetically.

" Monster??.... I fought a monster?", Camael questions.

" In other words, I might say you battled a god. It's quite intriguing you survived such....an apocalypse. Either way, with him left unchecked, innocent people will die"

" Why can't I remember any of this?? It's all so fuzzy", Camael responds hesitantly.

" A part of that trauma was stealing your memories. We termed his skills witchcraft since they were out of this world. However, you were specifically trained to be our pillar."

"So stand tall, and follow the path. Many die daily due to the apocalypse he had brought upon man, upon us. You are our last hope"

Camael fumes in anger and desperation. His thoughts constantly question where his trust should lie. The Director stretches out a tablet which plays footage of the destruction left by Loki, stemming the husband's resolve.

" What you are saying, is it the truth?", Camael asks hesitantly.

"Surely your eyes have seen the destruction he caused. What else would explain all the cuts and bruises you incurred. "the director affirms.

" I... I will end it, I will end all that destruction.", Camael speaks with conviction.

" You must not lose your focus, we will supply data on events we captured which would help you in remembering some moves. Surely that would help in ridding off that false god.", Director suggests.

He gives Camael a helping hand and raises him off the metallic table. Camael's face was filled with conviction and wrath, as he took faint steps towards the exit.

The director waits behind as Camael walks out of the room. He looks at Camael with a shrewd smile before activating his comms.

" Bring in the armour, the bait got the catch! "

Comms are gadgets which the army uses for communication. its mostly as little as a pea in high valued organisations like NOTA ,to help hide it from enemies.

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