Preface "Back to the past"

<p>Idistaviso Field, Germany, AD 16<br/><br/>The wind brought moist air from the banks of the river, thereby spreading the stench of the dead bodies of fallen soldiers. The hills, high and unshakable, were visible at the back of the field, rising aloof in the haze of the growing fog. The ground was stained blood-red, in places already dark cinnabar. A sickly sweet smell hung in the air, and the humid climate only intensified the process of rotting flesh.<br/>The field was literally covered with a sea of corpses of fallen soldiers. Old men, grown men, young men, all fell by the hand of each other. Arrows with their sharp tips pierced into vulnerable places not hidden by the iron plates of armor spears pierced through the skull, leaving a wide gaping hole in the flesh, sprinkled with blood, piercing the ground with the metal end on the other side. Broad double-edged swords crowned the limbs of another warrior, entered to the hilt. Some have been dead for a long time, gradually decomposing, naturally releasing all the liquids and gases inherent in the human body during life. Others were struggling in death convulsions, screaming and screaming, begging to ease the suffering, to reduce the terrible pain, that mortal wounds brought. And someone just lay on the ground, choking on his own blood, gurgling and wheezing, unable to utter a word.<br/>The war is always scary. The war takes lives. The war takes away husbands from women, deprives mothers of children, and fathers of heirs. The war is death. But also the war is power. Only military actions can bring fame and glory to a person. Only a fight can show which of the opponents is the best. Only the right strategic actions will lead the army to victory over the enemy and capture new territories. Only the war can show what a real man is, a warrior and a defender of his people.<br/><br/>A figure in a dark robe slowly followed the line of corpses. Her movements were smooth and sedate, as if she was not just moving, but dancing in the very center of a bloodbath. The tread was light, the long skirts of the cloak fluttered in the wind, skirting the slender legs hidden by the dark fabric. The figure stopped next to another body and squatted down. The face, hidden by a deep, wide hood, bent over the still living, but painfully dying man, whose throat was cut almost from ear to ear, and bright red blood, like a river, poured out and soaked into the dark earth. The man was wheezing and choking. He couldn't say a word. But his eyes widened in horror, and the image of a figure hovering over him was imprinted on the bottom of the black pupils.<br/>The hood was thrown back, and a beautiful face appeared. Chaotically scattered hair framed the forehead and temples, light color, with light highlights of silver. Clear and dark eyebrows were relaxed. Full pink lips stood out clearly on a flawless face. And the eyes, the color of heavenly blue, shone as if pointing the way to the other side.<br/>The phenomenon, in the form of a beautiful young man, smiled brightly and appeasingly, lightly and gently touching the warrior's head with small fingers ringed with countless silver rings, stroking slowly.<br/>"Angel," flashed through the head of the brave husband.<br/>The "angel" grinned, which made his eyes a little narrower, which made them even more attractive as if he had read the thoughts of a fallen warrior. He leaned over the man's ear and whispered, "Shh, it's already over. Everything will be fine now."<br/>The young man touched the man's temples with his small fingers of both hands, and he twitched in the last deadly convulsions. After a second, the body went limp, and the eyes went out, losing the last spark of vitality.<br/>The young man stood up and brushed off the skirts of his dark cloak, straightening up to his full height. He looked around the field with his piercing gaze and frowned. Just like him, dark figures wandered among fallen men, calmly and impenetrably taking the souls of the dead and waiting for those, who still clung with the remnants of their minds to the edge of this world. In truth, this job wasn't meant for him at all. He's not a reaper or even Death. But he was so bored of sitting on his huge majestic throne, there beyond the line, that he simply did not have the urine to wait any longer for the next influx of the next souls. That's why he got to the Ground, easily disguised as one of his subordinates, to somehow dispel those wandering thoughts, that have been haunting him for... several centuries.<br/>"What are you doing here?"<br/>A loud and authoritative voice pulled the young man out of the abyss of his own thoughts. He turned around and saw in front of him a man, who looked a little older than himself, judging by human standards. Regular and hard facial features, black eyebrows, wrinkles on the forehead, so much he frowned, firm cheekbones, strong-willed chin, medium-sized lips, slightly dry and pale. Dark and thick hair, randomly piled up, was slightly fluttered by the wind, although it seemed that their owner was not at all interested in it. Tall and fit, the man was tense as a string. Distinct blue veins stood out on his neck, his broad shoulders froze in one position, the powerful muscles of his chest stood out brightly under his clothes, his legs, inflated and strong, seemed about to crush the earth's surface. His eyes flashed bright blue as he stared intently at his interlocutor, waiting for an answer.<br/>"Your job, I suppose?" the young man pretended to bow his head, knowing full well, that he had screwed up. He hadn't expected to see this man here.<br/>"Stop it, Lucifer. Your curtain works for the others, did you really think, that you could deceive me with some kind of trick with a change of essence," the man grimaced, clearly feeling humiliated.<br/>"Sorry, little brother, I couldn't resist," Lucifer snorted, pretending to bow to his older brother, Michael. His face and whole posture did not express a shred of surprise, but inside Lucifer was incomplete perplexity. What the hell did his brother want on Earth? Michael could not stand everything connected with people, he despised and condemned them, considered them the lowest creatures that their Creator could only give the right to exist. Michael hated people with every fiber of his soul. But, as a submissive and loving son, he preferred to remain silent, so as not to pour out his personal thoughts and not be judged by his Father. Unlike Lucifer himself.<br/>The younger brother was always annoyed and frankly angered by such duality of his brother. Is the Father simply so blind and careless, that he did not see the real essence of his eldest son, did he really love him so much, that he was ready to close his eyes to this kind of outright disobedience, while Lucifer was simply expelled from his native home, abandoning him, thereby turning him into the villain of everything simply because he did not agree with his Father's opinion? It's just not fair, damn it!<br/>"I repeat my question, Lucifer, what are you doing here?"<br/>"My answer remains unchanged," the King of hell gracefully folded his arms on his chest, staring at first glance with a calm gaze into the eyes of his brother.<br/>Miсhael narrowed his eyes. He was always afraid of his younger brother. Strong-willed and strong, able to defend what he is fighting for, without having a shadow of fear of rebelling against the Creator himself, Lucifer has always caused Michael indescribable admiration. But at the same time, the senior archangel hated him. He hated him for something, that he couldn't afford himself. He hated him for his brash and unpredictable nature. He hated him for his beauty, which could truly outshine any celestial inhabitant. He hated him because his Father definitely loved him more than anyone else. After all, it's obvious. Anyone else who dared to stand on the opposite side from Him, He would have long ago destroyed with just a snap of two fingers, without even raising an eyebrow. But not Lucifer. Lucifer received something that no one of the archangels and angels has ever received before - freedom. Freedom of one's own choice, power over the whole world in the underworld, abilities that none of the fallen had, loyal companions in the form of demons and spirits. Lucifer got everything, while Michael was still a pawn in the hands of the Creator. And for all that, he hated his brother!<br/>"This is not part of your duties, as far as I know," Michael shoved his hands in his pockets to somehow calm the raging anger inside and not to attack Lucifer to finally end all this once and for all. "This is the work of the reapers."<br/>"Little brother," Lucifer pointedly shook nonexistent specks of dust from his perfect sleeve and grinned the way he knew exactly what annoyed Michael. "It's not up to you to decide. The souls of the dead are reaped by reapers, that's right. But I am the one into whose realm they fall. Therefore, I have every right to them and can pick them up myself when the time comes. You, in turn, do not have such privileges. What happened? Wait a minute," Lucifer mannerly widened his eyes, as if in universal surprise, and put a small palm to his open mouth. "Daddy promoted you? Or are you trying to prove to him that you're worth something?"<br/>Lucifer did not have time to complete his thought, as he immediately dodged a furious lunge from his brother's direction. He drew his sword and breathed so loudly and often that if they needed oxygen in principle, he could suffocate.<br/>"Really? Are you kidding me?" Lucifer glanced at Michael's sword and chuckled again, but his brother did not even think to retreat. He began circling around his younger brother like a hawk waiting for rotting flesh, bright and unrestrained flashing the blue of his angry eyes.<br/>Lucifer let out a breath and closed his eyes from the absurdity of such an undertaking. He and Michael had fought more than once, crossing swords and wounding each other almost fatally, but never like this. No matter how much Lucifer teased and exasperated the archangel of heaven, no matter what he said or did, Michael always kept himself in hand, switching to close combat only as a last resort. But now Lucifer felt that something was wrong. His brother's hatred had reached a peak and was just pouring over the edge. The veins in his temples, neck, and arms throbbed, and his palms gripped the sword, gripping it tighter, gleaming silvery in the darkness of the approaching twilight.<br/>At the next lunge, Lucifer drew his own weapon, a long double-sided spear, crowned with steel tips on both sides and painted with powerful defensive runes. The sound of weapons clashing echoed around like thunderclaps. The sparks that accompanied each blow of the sword on the spear flew in different directions, threatening to cause a blazing fire. But the hottest flame was now burning in the eyes opposite. In the eyes of an older brother whose hatred was so strong, that he was ready to kill his own brother with his own hands for the first time.<br/>Wounds inflicted by inhuman weapons bled and hurt, accompanied by a piercing scream from both opponents and an unpleasant hiss of pouring red liquid. Michael's face was decorated with a deep and ragged line, located from the tip of the left eyebrow to the right cheekbone. The wounds from Lucifer's spear were smoking and crackling: the right shoulder, the left part of the ribs, the hips, and the foot hurt like hell and pulled, spewing dark cinnabar that flowed to the ground, mixing with that left behind by the corpses of mortals.<br/>Lucifer was smiling, spitting blood from his split lips. His arm was pierced through, the gaping stripes of the Archangel sword were on his chest, cutting the fabric and exposing the torso almost completely, the leg seems to be broken in several places at once, but he continued to smile, while the sword knocked out of his brother's hands a little earlier was lying somewhere in the distance, and he himself was drilling Michael's neck with a sharp spear tip. The skin was twitching in the place where it met the metal, and Lucifer could swear, that even in the general human groans still echoing somewhere behind, he could hear his brother gulping loudly and heavily, could see the darkness of hatred obscuring his beautiful heavenly eyes, could feel the tense body still raring to fight, ready to kill, despite being completely defeated.<br/>"I could kill you, my brother," Lucifer bent over Michael's ear, hissing disgustingly, and the brother jerked his head away, spitting to the side. "It would be so easy. You've always been the best at close combat. An experienced and submissive warrior who is ready to carry out any order of his Creator without question. So what has changed now?" Lucifer moved back a little to be able to see his brother. He continued to breathe raggedly and quickly, but his eyes were no longer so angry. Lucifer squinted as if trying to get into Michael's skull. Reading his brother has always been so easy. After all, he was completely predictable, unlike Lucifer, and had no talent for hiding his secret motives. But something has changed. Something in Michael had changed now, and Lucifer was desperately trying to figure out what it was. His brother snapped, got into a fight with him out of the blue, which he had never allowed before. So something prompted him to do it. He's obviously up to something. And Lucifer was annoyed, that now he could not figure out and understand what exactly. Previously, he always managed to read his brother like a children's fairy tale, stupid and naive, which young mothers read at night to their offspring. But not now.<br/>"What are you up to, little brother?" Lucifer asked slowly and clearly.<br/>But Michael had already fully recovered and forcefully pushed him away, thereby slightly touching the skin on his own neck with the tip of the spear. Without even wincing, the elder brother picked up his sword from the ground, and it immediately disappeared in his hand, as if it had never existed.<br/>"Michael, don't do anything stupid," Lucifer called out to him, when his brother, without saying a word, turned his back on him, but suddenly stopped and turned around again, gloating, smiling uncharacteristically for him. It was a rare occasion for Michael to show his emotions at all. But today he surprised Lucifer beyond the norm. He came down to the Ground, loitered among people, attacked his younger brother as if he wanted to prove something. But what exactly and to whom, Lucifer was unknown.<br/>"I'm not like you, brother," Michael's voice sounded low and therefore ominous. "I won't make a mistake like you," and having said that, the archangel disappeared from sight, leaving behind only a loud sound of rustling wings.<br/>Lucifer froze in place in prostration. He didn't even hear the sound of footsteps coming from behind him. And so, when someone's hand fell on his shoulder, he turned sharply, ready to plunge the spear, still held tightly by his hands, into his opponent.<br/>"Whoa, take it easy, it's just me," the man, who caught Satan himself by surprise, grinned nastily. His lips, red as blood, were in perfect harmony with his rich brown hair, slightly touched with red flames, his body was slightly shaking from adrenaline after the battle and the murders attached to it, and fresh human blood was flowing from his fingers. The slightly pointed chin lifted higher as he continued to smile maliciously. This demon was one of the few higher ranks, like Lucifer himself, who preferred to participate in human strife.<br/>"What the hell are you doing here?" Lucifer winced at his own phrase. Just recently, he heard a similar one from his own brother.<br/>"Are you kidding me, hah? Isn't war the best place for me? I participated in the first rows, did you really miss everything?" the demon rolled his eyes, resting his hands on his hips, naturally offended. Lucifer, in turn, rolled his own. Only this asshole he allowed behaving so freely next to him.<br/>"Abaddon, you're always at the forefront when it comes to murder. I don't need to observe your kind of activity. You're doing great. Or is there something I don't know?" Lucifer deliberately looked seriously at his friend and chief adviser, which caused him to step back a little and look down, nodding his head in protest. "Wonderful."<br/><br/>For a while, Lucifer wandered around the outskirts of the field, accompanied by his friend, carefully watching the work of the reapers. Having thrown off the protective haze, he was now fully recognizable by his servants, and they bowed to him every now and then, meeting him on the way, almost bending in half, so much were they afraid of their Master's anger. Lucifer, to be honest, wanted to puke from it. That's why he got up on the Ground to stretch himself at least a little and take a break from the constant groans and tortures, swaggering servants and pesky demonesses who climbed out of their skin and pants to please him. But even here on Earth, he came across this kind of treatment. The costs of hierarchy, damn it.<br/>"What happened?" the question of a friend pulled Lucifer out of the flow of his own irritation, and he turned around, noticing the attentive and narrowed gaze.<br/>"What do you mean?" Lucifer asked, looking at the water surface along the bank of the river they were walking.<br/>"Come on, I know you better than anyone. And I see, that literally, someone put a spear in your ass, and you're also thinking too loudly. My head is literally going to explode from your thoughts. So, come on, tell me what happened while I was gone?"<br/>Thoughts of Michael haunted him, the reapers scurrying back and forth irritated him to the point of impossibility, the still painful wounds that had not healed distracted him, and also this premonition. The damned premonition did not give rest, drilled the subcortex, whistled in the ears like an arrow released from the bowstring, screamed louder than any sinner in the lowest depths of hell. He was haunted by Michael's behavior. His brother is definitely up to something. And these words of his…<br/>"I won't make a mistake like you."<br/>All this angered and upset the balance so much, that the friend's tirade, with which Lucifer would have only laughed earlier, pierced the whole being with anger. The eyes turned black in the blink of an eye, and a dark haze of natural aura enveloped the body.<br/>"Don't you dare talk to me like that! You forget yourself! Know your place and remember who is in front of you!" the entity was almost screaming to break out. The beautiful face suddenly distorted, and the body took an attacking position. From the most beautiful archangel of heaven that the world has ever seen, Lucifer turned into a powerful Ruler of the underworld, who could incinerate the entire planet to ashes only at his own will.<br/>"I beg your pardon, Sir," Abaddon immediately fell to his knees, clutching the black, wet from the coastal waves, the skirts of his Leader's cloak, pressing his forehead to His feet. "It was impermissible on my part. Please forgive my impertinence."<br/>Lucifer took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His rage, which had suddenly burst out, gradually receded, giving way to reason. He was never a tyrant, at least for no reason, never punished his subordinates if they really did not deserve it, never tortured or tortured innocent people just for fun. Everyone deserved their place. Everyone had their own hour and their own time. Everyone got what they deserved. And another play on the words of his closest friend, who had been with him for many centuries, proving his devotion and love with blood, should not have been subjected to an accidental outburst of his anger.<br/>Lucifer gently sat down on the ground next to Abaddon and lifted him by the chin with two fingers, shaking his head, saying, "Sorry, I snapped." But he didn't say it out loud. But that was enough for the demon. He smiled broadly, revealing his perfectly white teeth, and settled down next to the calmed Lucifer on the sand.<br/><br/>Lucifer calmly and clearly told Abaddon everything that had happened between him and his brother, and the demon listened to him attentively and silently. Not a single muscle moved on his concentrated face. But it was clear that the demon was thinking about something. Abaddon was an excellent strategist, he calculated the enemy's moves, as well as his own, in advance, he was a master in sophisticated torture of murder, and who better than him to unravel Michael's motive.<br/>"I don't like it," Abaddon said, shaking his head and rubbing his chin with long, slightly wrinkled fingers. "I really don't like it. Your brother was never very creative. But your story says the opposite. He's up to something, Lucifer. And something very serious. It seems to me that your little brother is preparing a coup. And believe me, it's better not to catch the eye of such an embittered and now unpredictable creature."<br/>"So what do you suggest, go down and sit like underground rats? Who do you take me for?!" Lucifer began to boil again. Abaddon did not dare to think, that he was ready to run like the last coward, just because some crazy idea had pecked his brother in the ass like a bird.<br/>"That's not what I meant," Abaddon looked at his friend seriously. "Lucifer, your brother was always easy to predict. But today he was able to surprise even you. I can serve my head to you on a platter for the confidence, that it will not be limited to a simple fight between you. He hates you, that's clear to everyone. But this hatred has been accumulating in him for centuries. And now it is ready to break out. I think, that he was testing himself. He was testing what he was capable of in a fight with you. And on Earth in the heat of battle, bypassing fallen warriors, he did not appear by chance. Michael hates people and suddenly condescended to such baseness to loiter among corpses, pf," Abaddon threw up his hands, betraying the absurdity of this assumption. "Something is not clean here. We need to think. I... need to think."<br/>Lucifer thought about it and nodded. He still didn't understand a damn thing, and his friend didn't help him get closer to solving his brother's strange behavior. But something inside was bothering him. Something tormented and tormented him, it was worth remembering Michael's words. Abaddon suggested, that the elder archangel was preparing a coup. But that's what, Lucifer didn't ask. Because the idea hit the awareness by itself.<br/>"I won't make a mistake like you."<br/>If Michael planned to destroy everything, that their Creator had created, instead of simply opposing him in opinion, as Lucifer himself had done at the time, then the matter was taking a very serious and dangerous turn. After all, Lucifer's kingdom and he himself were immediately following a similar plan to his older brother. The hatred in Michael's eyes still hovered before Lucifer's gaze. In any fight, in any battle or duel, Lucifer never raised his hand to complete the final outcome - to kill his brother.<br/>"He will kill you," Abaddon finished the thought, that had already formed in Lucifer's head. "Lucifer, if Michael gains strength through the souls he stole because I can't think of another stay on Earth among the fallen, he will be strong enough to kill you!" the friend suddenly began to tremble, and he grabbed Lucifer's hands, attracting his attention because he didn't even seem to hear him. "Do you hear me?! Your brother will kill you!"<br/>"And what do you suggest? Do it first?" Lucifer calmly looked into the wide-open completely black eyes of the demon opposite.<br/>" Fuck yes!"<br/>"Are you suggesting I kill my own brother?" Lucifer asked. No matter how bloodthirsty he was considered, no matter what age-old stereotypes were imposed, no matter how much they were afraid, Lucifer was not at all the way his image was created by the Creator. Well, almost wasn't.<br/>He killed, took, and tortured the souls of people, watched the suffering of children, the tears of mothers, and the infidelities of husbands. He watched everything that was being done in this crazy world by people whom his Father created in his image and likeness only to delight his own eye, for fun and fun, because He got boring, and after playing enough, He just left them, leaving him, Lucifer, to rake out all the shit, that he had done, thereby hanging all earthly disasters and curses on him as on the devil.<br/>The human mind is primitive. A husband cheats on his wife, children do not respect their parents, relatives renounce each other, murderers kill, thieves steal, rapists rape; fear, greed, anger, pride, laziness, lust, and all minor problems are attributed to the Devil.<br/>Satan is the source of all human misery. But when God himself is wrong, people never blame Him for it. When God makes a mistake, creating the world one by one, leaving it to be torn apart by His own creatures, people consider it God's will. When a loved one dies of cancer, they say that it is God's will. When people are hit by a flood or a hurricane, they say that this is how nature works, when children are born to die in the arms of their mother, who did not even have time to see the light, they say that they will be better off in heaven. Human stereotypes and labels have always annoyed Lucifer so much. And even though he was, he would never, ever be able to kill his own brother.<br/>"Yes!" replied Abaddon again. "You have enough strength, Lucifer. Now, before it's too late…"<br/>"No," Lucifer replied sharply and also abruptly got up from the ground. "I won't do it."<br/>"Lucifer, you…"<br/>But Lucifer did not allow the demon to finish, turning around and flashing the blackness of his eyes, literally pressing the power of his aura to the ground.<br/>"You heard me. I won't kill my brother. We have to come up with something else. And keep an eye on him. If he's really up to something, then his appearance among mortals today won't be the last. You will personally report to me about everything my brother does. And if the situation gets out of control..." Lucifer didn't know what he would do then. He paused, peering into the distance.<br/>Abaddon didn't dare open his mouth anymore. He had already angered the Master too much today. So he just nodded at the unspoken to the ending remark. He didn't want anything to happen to his friend, to his Master, to his Leader, he didn't want to bow down and kiss the feet of some swaggering feathered ass like Michael. Here he needs to think seriously. Lucifer was right, as always. And these reflections, of course, will take a lot of time. In the meantime, Abaddon will do everything to protect his Master from his own carelessness and sometimes uncharacteristic feelings of excessive justice and compassion for the King of Hell, damn them all!</p>