Dissension - Part 3

[Swish!]

Michael flies at full speed, attempting to shake off his pursuers. Randomly, an arrow shoots past him, barely grazing his untainted skin, though some manage to tear his cloth apart.

"Fucking hell, your aim is getting worse and worse with each shot!" Belphegor teases the try-hard Mammon as he follows behind him.

"Shut the fuck up! You know nothing about shooting while moving!" Mammon replies with sound reasoning. They both shout because they can't hear each other if they don't, as they are moving at an incredible speed.

"And you claim to be the best archer God has ever created?!" Belphegor continues with the play.

"Well, unlike you, I'm fucking trying to do something here rather than dragging my huge ass off and waiting for others' accomplishments!" Mammon harshly directs the insult, turning it into a bigger mess.

What are they on about?

Michael, who is silently following their conversation, is disappointed by the quarrel. After all the time they've spent together, this is the result that is produced at the end?

What a joke.

Despite Michael's complaint, he is relieved that both of them have started to lose focus on him. The non-stop barrage that is pressuring him seems to stop as they continue to argue. Now, he can rest a little and prioritize his escape plan over evading the attacks.

However, the terrain before him is nothing but sand. As far as his eyes can see, there isn't a single hiding spot or getaway gate that he could use to elude them. Taking them back to the plains might be a good plan, but that would mean abandoning Malique for the sake of his safety. And that is the last thing he should do.

That's right, Malique! Where is he?

Now remembering his true objective, Michael wastes no time and uses his precognitive ability to try and sense Malique's whereabouts. But before he can pinpoint the exact location, he is pulled back into the heated exchange between the two best friends behind him.

"Come on, why don't you show me that skill, huh?!" Belphegor still hasn't stopped making fun of Mammon.

"Fine..." Mammon abruptly stops as he mumbles to himself. Taking a deep breath, he aims toward the sky. With one arrow at his disposal, he fires with his eyes closed.

[Fwoosh!]

The arrow flies high into the blinding sun. When it reaches its peak, the shaft turns invisible. Or rather, Michael can't see and detect the trajectory it will follow. A deadly missile, as small as a drop of water on the overwhelming bright screen, is undoubtedly coming for him.

Damn! Has it landed somewhere?! Or is it still in the air?!

The suspense is killing Michael from the inside, forcing his heart to be in complete terror. Judging by the fact that Mammon has not moved an inch since shooting the arrow, Michael can deduce and confirm that it is still somewhere in the sky, waiting to find its target.

[Shriiek!]

"Ack!" Suddenly, the arrow pierces through Michael's right wing, and he instantly loses control, beginning to sink.

"Hahaha! Look at that! What are you going to say now?!" Mammon happily dismisses his bow and raises both hands to taunt Belphegor after his unbelievable feat.

"What's so special about hitting your prey but being unable to seize it?!" Belphegor stops in his tracks and points at Michael, who is now hovering about half a mile above the ground, quietly fleeing the scene.

"Fuck!"

The small hole in his wing hurts even more as the air resistance pushes and strains to enlarge the size of the wound. This is emphasized by how his blood drips from the open scar, rising upward before falling and slumping to the ground.

Moreover, as he glides closer to the floor, he can see a hill with a slight slope ahead. Adjusting his movement toward the incline, he curves into it, and the hilltop covers him from Mammon and Belphegor's sight. From up there, everything looks the same because of the colour.

To his surprise, just behind that incline, a fight is breaking out, and he swerves directly into the middle of a pair of blades slashing at each other. Thankfully, they retract just in time before Michael can collide with them. Tracing the owner of one of the blades, he sees a familiar face with an astonished expression upon seeing him.

"Michael?!"

[Thump!]

"Hey, are you okay?" Michael crashes onto the sand, and Malique swiftly moves to his side, helping him up. He notices the hole in Michael's wing, now the size of a baseball, and asks about it. "Your wing, what happened?"

"I don't have time to tell you about it," Michael answers as he stands. His wings are now concealed, as is the pain in his wing.

"What are you doing here?" Malique questions, his tone filled with disbelief.

"What am I doing here? Of course, I'm trying to save you, you idiot," Michael responds with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"But you're hurt, and it's dangerous here," Malique expresses concern.

"Losing you wouldn't change much on our side. As long as you can reach Heaven, the order can be restored and..." Malique's words are cut off.

"I made a promise to someone dear for you," Michael says, placing a finger on Malique's lips to silence him. "And I'm not one to break promises."

"I'm sorry, Michael," Malique apologizes.

"Don't be. It's not your fault for my complexities," Michael reassures him as they both turn to face Abaddon and Sathanas, who are waiting for them. "Now, let's settle this two-versus-two... Oh, shoot."

Belphegor and Mammon join forces with the enemies, forming a team of four. When Michael had dashed past their engagement earlier, Sarhanas and Abaddon had stepped back to avoid a collision, giving them extra time to regroup.

"Never thought you guys wouldn't be able to finish him off before we had to intervene," Sathanas remarks, striking a nerve with both Belphegor and Mammon.

"Because this guy kept on missing his shots..." Belphegor begins with a taunting tone, blaming Mammon.

"You know what? I think the Demons of Sins need to recruit a new member after your funeral," Mammon retaliates, grabbing Belphegor's neck padding.

"Shut it, you two!" Abaddon interrupts, grabbing Mammon and pushing him away. "You guys are just embarrassing yourselves. What would General Lucifer think if he saw you like this?"

Abaddon's words silence both Mammon and Belphegor, making them realize their immaturity. Mammon places his hands on Abaddon's shoulders, signalling that he wants to make peace with Belphegor.

"Michael has an injured right wing, so he can't flee anymore," Mammon reveals, exposing Michael's weakness to the others. "His left shoulder is also injured from when I landed on him."

"Malique's right leg should be vulnerable," Sathanas adds to the information. "While he can try to fly away, his movements will be rough and predictable."

"Yeah, that's right. Abaddon landed a real hard hit on him," Abaddon confirms.

"You're injured?" Michael immediately glances at Malique's leg, noticing the disfigured skin and the bleeding. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I'm alright. Better than you, of course," Malique smugly responds, hinting at a secret. "Besides, you kept something from me too. Don't worry, that makes us even."

"Geez, what has become of us?" Michael sighs.

"Did you guys notice that?" Sathanas suddenly speaks up, catching everyone's attention.

"General Lucifer..." Mammon starts.

"With Asmodeus and Beelzebub..." Belphegor continues.

"They're heading here," Abaddon concludes.

Michael and Malique realize the seriousness of the situation as they sense the approaching storm. In a desperate attempt to save themselves from a future demise, they reveal their hidden weapon.

"Are we going to die?" Malique whispers, positioning himself behind Michael in a defensive stance they had used in their fight against Lucifer.

"If you're the main character of a story, you probably won't," Michael replies, leaving Malique confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Forgive me, that's something I learned from the human world," Michael comments. "But some authors love to kill off their main characters."