Fallen Angel

"So let me get this straight." Michael taps the table before him. HIs eyes shifting in thought.

He looks up, In front of him sat the self-proclaimed god Ahros. His familiar smile, coffee under his lips, hiding the potent power underneath, along with what little he could discern.

He was just a mystery before, now he's a nigh omnipotent being. Michael sighs at the thought.

"You're a god, correct?" He points to him in affirmation..

"Correct. I am the god of Love and War."

"Then you're a god that came here for what, exactly? I don't think you stuck this close to me just for a job. A job for me to read your romance novels."

Ahros taps his chin, a cane in his hand. "Hmm, there are two reasons, I believe. One would be a secret. The other would be your suitability for acting as my apostle."

Michael chokes. "What!? Suitability for what!?"

"As an angel, apostle or whoever it is you call someone that enacts my will upon the material plane."

"But you're already here? I just saw you wipe the existence of four men! Hell! I've seen you do something much worse to more people!"

"Yes, well, they entered my temple. A place where I can enact my will with reckless abandon."

Michael looks around, now inspecting the familiar location. "I don't think this is much of a temple. More like a bookstore or a homeless shelter, maybe."

"Well, yes, it is easier to let people to lower their guard and be annihilated that way." Ahros remarks, his smile turning malicious in an instant; in a single, terrifying instance.

"Ooooh, I see. So that's why I don't see you leave this place at all." He nods, impressed at the deception. "I can kinda see it." He then taps his finger in thought, "Then why even bother having me as an apostle?"

Ahros looks at him in confusion, "Why not?"

"Hmm. Good point. Why the hell not!?"

"Right?" Ahros replies, his lips back to his coffee as the two chuckle to themselves.

Michael shakes his head. "Ok, let's be serious here. I can be an apostle. But why should I agree?"

"Magical power and girls." Ahros replies, without a second of hesitation.

"How many girls are we talking?" Michael asks, a smirk on his lips.

"How many girls can you take?"

"One."

"..."

..................

"So what is it that I have to do, anyway?" Michael asks as he stir the tea before him.

Ahros lowers his cup and gestures to the books around him. "As you can see, I am a man in love with love." A book flies unto his hand as he opens it. "It sustains me, nourishes me. The immensity of my life is colorful with just the thought of it."

He glances at the boy. "Yet, here I am, stuck in a small room. Stuck watching the travesty the world calls a story." His pink eyes glisten in rage. "That's why I want you to make it better."

"Make it better?" Michael asks, a bit afraid. The man before him no longer that familiar friend.

"Yes! Make it better! Give it the heart pumping kick it needs." He grins at Michael, his eyes turning forlorn as he continues, "As things stand, the Imperium is being pushed towards a direction that I do not desire."

Michael takes note of his words. What could possibly push a god?

Ahros' eyes and hair turn crimson. "My enemies are many, Michael. One does not simply get into my position. They want to defile the jewel of my creation."

Michael looks at the cup before him. His finger tapping the table in a powerful rhythm, his mind churning faster, harder than it has ever before.

"I would need your help in preserving whatever order we have on this continent. And just as I did before, we'll do it with either love or war." Crimson eyes bore into him, the room dyed in blood.

Michael shivers at the bloodlust, a terrifying force pulling at his throat.

Ahros notices this and shook his head, a small smile on his lips, "Apologies for that. I seem to have gotten more passionate than I was used to. It has been a while, after all."

Michael loosens his tie, alleviating the tension holding him in place. He then swallows dryly before he spoke. "It's fine, I understand. Though with such a speech, I can't help but wonder where I should start?"

"Oooh, I have the perfect place for that."

..................

"Really? A school?" Michael asks, his stoic face looking at him for answers before he sighs and inspects the school before him.

A school built with marble, glass and light. It was covered with magic circles, each one pulsing with immense strength, holding powers that seemed to dwarf any that dares bear witness.

Ahros floats behind him, his smile excited. "Not just any school. It is the Imperial Academy! The school, whereupon the powerful, gets their connections, the geniuses get their recognition. A place filled to the brim with the Imperium's finest and powerful."

"So, a very good school?"

"Yes."

Michael taps his hand, "I still don't get why you had to hide this from me. Yeah, sure you teleporting me here was quick, but I don't think this demanded secrecy."

Ahros giggles, "Well, I thought that perhaps you would be averse to taking such strides away from your school. After all, a boy like you must have made some friends."

"You and I both know I didnt get friends."

"Oh, that's sad." Ahros teases.

..................

Michael then takes a stride forward, leaving behind the asshole. Striding inside door opened for all to see, "There doesn't seem to be students around."

"Obviously, since the school year hasn't started yet." Ahros replies, his arms over his shoulder as he floats right beside him, his body left at his temple.

"I am aware of that. What I'm asking is why you brought me here?"

"Well, I have a friend's friend that wants to meet you."

"I see. That sounds like a bother."

A voice then interjects, "Oh, it is. But I assure you, your time will not be wasted on me."'

The two of them turn to meet a graying old man. Bearing a gentle smile as he walked forward, hands offered. "It is shocking to know that His Highness has found an Apostle."

Michael hesitantly grabs his hand, shaking it firmly as he spoke. "I would like to take that as a compliment."

The man chuckles, "You really shouldn't"

"Oh."

He then opens the door with a thought, his eyes forward as he continued, "Well, I'm sure that King Ahros has told you of the situation."

"Uh, yes." Michael glances at the said God beside him.

"He's here, isn't he?" The old man remarks.

"Yeah."

..................

Such an answer then elicited an excited giggle. Ahros now walked beside the man as he spoke. "Oh my, you've grown up so splendidly, Markus. Rane must've taught you well. Oh, and how is she?"

"Lady Rane is alright, your highness. Though Queen Thea."

"Is not the subject of our visit, yes?" Ahros interrupts, his smile emitting dangerous pressure.

Markus nods in a quick response, "Yes, of course." He then turns back at Michael.

Michael which stood there taking note of their interaction, questions nipping at his mind as he asks, "Are you Markus Dritria?"

"Why yes? But let's forget that for now. Lord Ahros didn't bring you here just to talk, after all." Markus strides forward, his robe billowing behind him.

Michael nods, following right after as Ahros silently floated behind them.

..................

Once inside the premises, the immense luxury bares itself to Michael. The magnificent combination of gold and white marble was in itself a sight.

But with magical circles running through it, the combination of light left for a beautiful sight, a sight he could not appreciate as the mana forces the air out of his lungs, leaving him kneeling in weakness.

Markus runs to his side, magic circles in hand. He inspects the boy only to stop, his eyes widening.

He looks back at Ahros before coughing in his hand, "Apologies for that. I was unaware of your magical status." Markus helps him up. "Though I assure you that the longer you stay here, the easier the pressure becomes."

Michael sucks in a deep breath as he winces, his hand over his chest. "It's fine. I understand."

"Well, you must." "Sir! We have a situation! The Earl of Cossington is asking for you."

A man ran to his side, his breathing erratic as sweat trickled.

Markus nods, he glances at Michael as he left along with his attendant. "I hope you can wait for a while. It seems I am needed elsewhere."

"It's fine."

With such words, Markus disappears in a hurry. Magical circles writing itself underneath him.

..................

"So, what do you think?" Ahros asks. His smile excited as he floated by, his feet pointed up to the sky, his overcoat hanging over his head.

"It's alright. I still don't get why I have to go here, though."

Ahros looks back at him, offended. "Why!? You mean how else?!"

He spreads his hand as he floats upright. "The Academy life is one filled with romance. An Academy for a boy your age is the perfect opportunity to meet and fall in love!"

Michael rolls his eyes. "You make it sound like a girl will just fall off the sky."

The two men freeze from his words. A moment passes and the two lock eyes before they both look up, only to be greeted by a ceiling.

"So, you see anything?" Michael asks, his eyes squinting.

"No. Unfortunately, I do not."

Michael scoffs, arms crossed as he strolled. "Yeah, thought so."

"Yes, well. You can't expect-" Ahros stops, "Oh, my bad."

"What?" Michael asks. A sudden force slamming against his back.

"How delightful."