Mephisto - The Strange Nephilim

Why am I doing this? This anger. This never-ending wrath coursing through my veins like liquid fire burned. I'd never felt like this. So furious, so… angry at something.

It was clear I had sealed my memories. That was the only explanation for this rage. I'd seal them all. But… the only reason for sealing my memories was to manipulate myself and those around me.

There were those capable of mind-reading or manipulating the weave. Who was my enemy this time? Michael? He wasn't even a worthy foe. It can't…

"Brother…" Michael said wearily. His wings torn off his back with my bear arms.

He sat in a pool of his blood, gargling on the taste of whatever organ he couldn't manipulate in time from leaving his body. He shuttered, almost convulsing as he struggled to speak.

"Why?"

My palm reached for my chest, heavily damaged, and I frowned at the disastrous wound. My organs were barely hanging inside.

"Vanish," I uttered grimly, with no room for a smile. I turned creation from physical to illusion.

The wounds alongside the Concept of Death lingering on my body vanished: Ceasing to exist with my ageless command.

"Monster… Where did you keep that ability?"

"Since the dawn of time. But I was only able to master it after the rebirth of Zariel." I answered, my spear pressing against his neck. "It was only through his constant use of the Weave that I mastered this ability."

Michael smiled, but The bitterness in his smile was all but contagious as it leeched onto me, sinking deep into my bones.

What a loathing feeling: Why was I doing this? Why was I about to kill my Brother?

I wasn't Lucifer. I've no reason to hate Michael. He was strict… But that was only due to Lucifer. My elder Brother changed the day of the fall. Michael had tried with his all not to let wrath blind him, but even he wasn't safe from its grasp.

I understand that. I do… but why am I… Why am I about to kill…

"End it, Mephisto," Michael uttered, his prideful eyes seemingly dimming as I nodded.

"Don't!"

"Brother! We can talk about this!"

"We didn't think you were… serious.

"Are you serious!"

Hearing my brethren speak out in such a manner, my anger only seemed to ignite in a spiraling frenzy as my spear reached through the flesh of my Brother's neck, carving through ligaments and veins with endless ease.

"It's done!" I muttered, watching the heavens above the Origin Realm bleed a saddening hue. Rain… poured over the land, hammering at the earth with such a pang of profound sadness the hearts of each of us Fallen seemed to crack.

Covering my mouth to stop the acid from tearing at my throat to escape its cage, I threw up beside Michael as an immense regret rippled through my mind.

I needed Michael… he… No… I… I got to fix this.

"My Lord." An icy voice suddenly called, reaching deep into my soul. "Arsene is in trouble."

"Handle it, Ishar," I spoke out, staring at the lifeless eyes staring back at me with a faint outline of a smile.

"He needs you." She replied, fading back into the endless void. "Not I, my Lord. It's all about boundaries."

"Father… Forgive me. I shall correct this mistake… it was a mistake. A childish one." I whispered to myself and pressed my finger between Michaels's brow. And a almighty aura flared off my eyes.

"Erase"

Erasing the Concept of Death governed by Azazel, slowly taking Michael's soul, I got up as his eyes snapped open, and he gasped for air.

"Heal yourself quickly, or you'll die… Return Balor within a Fortnight, and stay out of my business, Michael." I said coldly, stepping into the Great Void,

I traveled towards the fourth heaven to where Arsene stood, ramming his spear through the heart of… A monarch. I watched as a halo of blood and gore spiraled off his spear, leaving nothing behind but droplets of blood that rained from the skies.

"Tsk. Weak shit. Very weak shit." Arsene grunted, hovering in the air with a fiendish aura rippling off his being. " I swear. I could get more out of a two-cent whore, than you two."

"What is goin'… Oh, I see." I mused, finding a smirk.

"Arsene… you always seem to get yourself in some trouble."

Staring as the blood below began to pulse with the aura of a Nephilim, I chuckled, noticing the frown on Arsene's lips.

"That crown again. Draxilore did say something about the concept of reincarnation and Phoenix. Does that mean I have to kill him nine times? Does it work like that? I think that's only cats, right? Are phoenixes cats?"

"Oh my god!" I muttered. " He's an idiot."

"And yet you took him on as a disciple." The voice of Zariel echoed from my rear. He appeared, flashing like a ghost with a dark frown.

"Little Zar. How nice to see you again."

"And you look like shit. Michael's blood?" he pointed out. "Never seen you with such a depressive look."

"Moment of laps," I assured him. Perhaps sealing my memories, some of the feelings and schemes I had planned overlapped. It won't be the first time. Was that what this was?

Zariel smiled. "Or perhaps you're going insane. Your spiraling out of control. Could this be the Fall of Mephisto? His true fall."

I chuckled and shifted my gaze to Arsene, staring at the blood rising into the air, pulsing with a scarlet light.

Slowly the blood began to congeal, fixing itself into a somewhat strange form. It was one of a human with a single wing on its back. Necrotic Qi began to pulse over the realm of Iluthath, shattering the many regions without protection.

Feeling the aura reaching far into the Myriad Heavens, my smile deepened as I stared at my disciple, lifting his lips into arcs.

"Arsene Snow." The beings whose features remained the color of blood said.

"Stranger I've never met in my life." Came Arsene's reply, "And please address me as Tenebrous. My second wife demands I do."

The Nephilim snorted. " You are interfering in my business."

"...Ok… Cool. And?" He said with blank eyes.

"Even in my realm, your obnoxious behavior is legendary. But it ends today."