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Custom Made Archangel: The Rewrite

Alexander, a young man impassioned with the dreams of an author faces a harsh dilemma as a strange email is sent his way. Burdened by the consideration for his beloved novel's own ending, he agrees with the email's request only to face a horrifying truth. Fate can not be rewritten. And yet, his fate was only one; death. But if death can't be rewritten, what about what happens after death?

Dr_Armstrong · Cómic
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17 Chs

13 - There Will Come A Soldier

Ants are pitiful, aren't they?

Work to serve, serve to live, live to serve...these words are enough to make a biography for their entire species.

A single worker ant works very hard in the brief time that it lives, going out to search for even the tiniest crumbs of anything that might resemble food.

Yet all that hard work could be reduced to ashes just by the wicked whims of a little child, all with a magnifying glass and a good enough angle to burn everything to a crisp.

Currently, Alexander felt like he was that worker ant, and that this menstruating full moon was the equivalent of the sun.

The only thing missing in this cosmic equation was the child and their magnifying glass, thank God for that.

Alexander rested atop the tower, finding shade below its wizard hat-shaped antenna. He could practically feel the malevolent aura of the moonlight, it was suffocating for a heavenly being like him, yet weirdly enough, it felt familiar...somehow.

The Blood Moon's scarlet light felt like a mockery of something natural, something deep within him.

It was the same kind of sensation a human might feel when they discover their dog to be a middle-aged Skinwalker with a shitty 9-5 job named Jerry, the same kind of feeling experienced by a time traveller when they meet the alternate versions of their family, suffice to say...

It was the uncanny valley.

Alexander wasn't particularly fearful or angered by this sensation, but it was prickly, a subtle distortion in his subconscious mind, the disturbance as subtle as a spiky urchin hiding beneath a fishing vessel. 

It was annoying.

The Angel flapped his wings, not having an actual need to do so aside from the dramatic effect, as he started floating away from the tower, gazing upward at the celestial conflict occurring in the sky.

This Blood Moon was unusual, the ones depicted in the games always happened at midnight, or at least, somewhere around that time. This one on the other hand, had showed itself just as the blazing sun had decided to set.

Even a true Aurora Borealis of the northern sky was jackshit compared to the kaleidoscopic sight currently taking place above the fallen kingdom of Hyrule, the orang radiance of the setting sun battling against the moon's scarlet light.

The only thing Alexander could realistically compare it to would be a publically-open divine war between two fucked-up Sequence 0s, and even then...

...Actually, he was probably exaggerating. It's probably not that bad in reality, but it sure as hell felt like it in an Angel's perspective.

Alexander's eyes turned downward, his gaze falling over the encampment.

He could swear that the number of Bokoblins had just doubled, but he knew for a fact that thizls was actually true.

This was the in-game function of a Blood Moon, as an in-built lore reason to respawn defeated monsters and refill the map back with enemies for Link to face once more.

The eyes of those swine-headed man were overrun with hatred and mindless rage, as if they were possesed by a bloodthirsty spirit.

Even the children, and yes, there are actual children amongst the Bokoblins, were manic and frenzied.

They seemingly dropped everything that they were previously doing, the carpenters halted their work, the builders dropped their tools upon the ground, and the resting hunters were possesed to grab hold of their spears.

Alexander's eyes searched for his Talus companion, though he had nothing to worry about as the frenzied Bokoblins completely ignored the golem.

Though, at the same time, Sylone seemed to also not have a care in the world for them as he had taken advantage of Alexander's departure to sleep on his rocky ass.

He was about to descend and return to his Vessel's body when a sight from the corner of one of his many eyes caught the Angel's undivided attention.

'...Is that a foot?' Sticking out from one of the bushes on the side was what looked to be the left foot of a human male.

'Did these guys kill someone and forget about it?' That was very plausible considering all of them had abandoned their tasks upon the Blood Moon's arrival, but...

The foot just moved, hiding itself deeper into the bush so that no one could spot him.

Him, Alexander realized.

Alexander descended quietly, hiding in the opposite direction of the mysterious figure's line of sight.

The figure poked out half of their head from out of the bush, taking sneaky peaks of the manic tribe and revealing to the Angel who it truly was.

'It really is him...' Alexander muttered as the figure's head, wearing some kind of deteriorated soldier helmet, poked out of the greenery.

Link.

The Angel watched on carefully. He didn't yet want the Hero to be aware of his otherworldy existence as he sent a telepathic message to his Talus through their spiritual connection.

'Do not attack the small one wearing a helmet, act like you're an actual boulder.' He said with urgency, a straightforward response of 'Ok.' was what he received in return.

The Angel was grateful that he had a smart Vessel and simply left it at that, he then eyed the Hero from the shadows, approaching closer to get a better look.

It took a few more seconds before Link made his move, sneaking around the Bokoblin encampent and out of that stinking bush, allowing for the Angel to see him in all of his naked glory.

Wait, he's naked!?

...Er, no, not really. He has his helmet on, and...

Pants too, regretably. But the man was shirtless! His abs and nipples revealed to the world, and...

'Damn, he's a twink.'

The Angel silently lampooned the Hero as he thought about the Links of the past eras, who were mostly not twinks.

Mostly...

Although he wasn't really all that feminine, just that his long blond hair and skinny-lean frame gave a misleading outline from a distance.

He has also some cake, this iteration of Link must be the Hero of the Bakery or something...

Over all, his body looked slightly different than in the modern games, but his face seemed to look the exact same, odd.

Although that wouldn't really explain why he was choosing to go to combat without a shirt...

'Must be because of the cold winds or something.' Alexander mused.

In the Hero's hand was a slightly worn out, but still usable sword of great size, a claymore.

And, uh, it didn't took long before the damn thing was put to use as it went straight through a little Bokoblin girl's torso, which, uh...

Then went up and down through her entire body, splitting her remains like apple sauce.

Apple pie...