Zerith Kingdom (1)

A blue sky in a stubborn contrast due to the tiny wisps of ash that clumped and scattered.

The ground possessed a dull grey hue denoting its severely burned state. No plant or similar will likely grow again in this location for a long time.

Deep craters were scattered on the lifeless ground at a certain distance from each other.

From there, stultifying smoke spread in light but annoying gusts.

To make the picture bleaker, hundreds of thousands of soldiers' corpses lay with wounds of all shapes and sizes.

Some were decapitated, others dismembered, and for the rest... it was impossible to even determine their original faces.

No doubt, and if they weren't bastards, someone would be distraught and grieving over the loss.

It's were piled up together, creating mountains and producing an invasive metallic odour.

Blood flowed and condensed into puddles and small fountains.

Upon closer inspection, several bladed weapons came into view.

These ranged from swords to bows.

The weapons were fused with a pigment red and showed damage that formed slight but distinguishable cracks.

Certainly, a battlefield. And a very recent one at that.

At least that was the little that could hardly be abstracted from the elements and environment involved that in conjunction staged a space that was not at all pleasant to watch.

Moving away from this place, not far away, there was what appeared to be a kingdom.

On the high walls on the verge of total ruin, some flags waved to the sound of a chaotic and disorderly wind.

The coat of arms printed on the cloth was a lion roaring, surrounding it, a circle fragmenting into five parts.

A massive wooden door was destroyed in the sector where the main entrance was supposed to be.

In front, a battering ram of great length and width according to the task for which it was created.

On the walls, colossal rocks.

Evidently, there was no lack of siege weapons.

The rocks had imperfect cuts in some areas.

It was clear that they were exhumed crudely and hastily.

Inside the Kingdom, bodies that appeared to belong to civilians lay disorganized among the buildings and dirt roads.

Their conditions were not much different from the soldiers on the outskirts of the Kingdom.

They died with despair still palpable on their faces.

Indeed, the war was a cruel event that knew no mercy.

Yet, equally inevitable.

In the end, as long as there are people and thoughts, which are accompanied by opinions and ideas, there will be a possible conflict that will develop.

Then, a light shone.

The glow originated in the central square hardly distinguishable and detectable.

This was so, as some collapsed buildings blurred the roads to be traveled to reach the site and obscured the location itself.

Anyone could easily get lost now.

Not only to get to the central square but also to move around the clearly shattered Kingdom.

Soon, shouts and voices made an appearance.

"Hey, where am I?"

"W...what the fuck?"

"Mommy!?"

A plurality of voices and languages erupted.

All the noises came from a vast crowd.

If one were given the time to determine the exact number, one would conclude that now, at this very moment, there were 10,000 people in the square.

Everyone ranged from young to old, from women to men, from boys to girls, from sick to healthy.

In essence, even if there was some kind of deterministic filter, it was not applied at all.

At the same time, they questioned the veracity of the apparent facts. The bodies scattered like pebbles and the destroyed site contributed to this.

So those with a greater degree of courage and mental fortitude gradually approached the corpses lying nearby.

A part would focus their eyes as close as possible to examine them and others, on the other hand, would take any element to avoid the slightest contact.

"Is this r-real...?"

"Is it some kind of hyper-realistic mannequin...?"

Nonetheless, that was not the end. Just as there were cases of serious consideration, there were also those that were humorous and absurd.

"Hit me!"

"...Are you sure?

"Yes, damn it, do it!"

Slap!

"Fuck, that hurt!"

"..."

And many other occurrences followed and developed.

If anyone saw them, they would think a massive psychotic break was occurring.

After a diverse yet continuous process of discarding, they concluded that this was not a dream, a hallucination provoked by their brains or a highly planned prank.

As such, screams of horror and vomiting from disgust arose.

"Baaarrrffff..."

"Bastard, you splashed me!"

In short, they were people who did not know the struggles and conflicts that should lead to bloodshed.

Anyone in the modern era who had not experienced something similar would be overwhelmed, ultimately ending in this outcome.

After all, humans tended to be slaves to their emotions.

It was not easy to keep a clear, rational mind in a situation that was entirely beyond them.

* * *

After an initial period of fear and uncertainty, people came to their senses and looked to those with whom they had some sort of relationship to reunite.

Among those who did not, they looked around uncomfortably, trying to understand the circumstances in which they found themselves.

Some were moving away from the crowd to explore the place. They didn't feel like standing still, waiting for some change that would miraculously solve the problem.

Of course, they did not stray too far from the crowd, which provided them with a certain degree of emotional security.

On this premise, they, even with fearful and hesitant steps, moved forward.

In this way, a few minutes passed.

But, against all odds, a voice echoed loudly in the vicinity?

"Hello."

Was someone greeting them?

They watched the one closest and then the one farthest away.

They looked like meerkats crawling out of their holes.

However, all of them expressed the same confusion in their expressions.

Therefore, each understood that they were experiencing something identical to the others.

That idea relieved them.

Could they all go crazy? Impossible!

Nevertheless, deep down, a particular uncertainty took root.

At the end of the day, if they could suddenly be transported to such a place, what wouldn't be possible?

Suddenly, they turned their gazes in a specific direction.

So dictated their unconscious.

In the sky, a winged man floated.

An angel?

That was the first thought that ran through them.

Behind him, a black portal formed by the tearing of space vanished.

Or so they thought deduced from the fantasies bubbling in their minds on the verge of collapse.

Without further ado, when they managed to get through the surprise and stupefaction, they judged and were enraptured by what seemed to them to be an existence of great innate nobility.

Wings brilliantly white and beautiful.

An otherworldly appearance and a profusely indifferent gaze.

It almost looked like a soulless robot.

He wore full-body light armour that boasted a shimmering silver colour.

It only took a single glance to know of its immense value.

At the same time, and, as expected, he emanated an aura of pure holiness.

How contradictory.

The Angel provoked diverse emotions in the spectators.

"Well, since I have your attention, we can begin."

No one responded to those words.

They simply remained silent.

Beyond the physical, the intrinsic desire of human beings to answer questions beyond their possibilities and knowledge, and the enormous link symbiotic between religion and people, should not be forgotten.

Besides that, except for the movies, it was the first time they had caught a glimpse of something so magical and yet so real.

"Welcome, humans," the Angel said without a welcoming tone. "My name is Sidquiel. As you can see, I am an Angel."

The Angel finishing his introduction continued. "First of all, congratulations."

Those words, unknown the reason, aroused premonitory emotions in them.

Sidquiel's gaze took on a visceral touch. "You have been selected as the first group to be transported after full assimilation to be part of a test that will open the door to countless possibilities."

He spread his arms out, forming an incongruity between his facial expressions, movements, and speech. "Some they never thought possible."

The people still maintained their silence, stifling their questions that were uninterruptedly popping up.

Nurtured by a variety of cinematic and literary resources of the modern era, they understood well this sequence of arriving at an unfamiliar place and facing a "test."

Usually, what would follow would be some idiot aggressively questioning the interlocutor and ending as a cold corpse.

Fortunately, those gathered here did not seem oblivious to such concepts.

And even if this line of thinking was a mistake, it wouldn't hurt to listen and then act accordingly.

"Quiet, bitch! Who do you think you are? You can float all you want, but you can't bully me like these cowards." A man covered in tattoos and a large scar running from his right eyebrow to his cheek pointed at the people around him. "Take me back to my house, now, you flying rascal!"

Well, that would be expecting too much.

With that as the origin, more and more people egged on by the man shouted at Sidquiel.

He may look like an Angel of God, but if a person felt their apparent freedom was taken away by being forced into something they didn't understand, certainly reacting with eagerness and glee was a long shot.

Regrettably, being governed by laws and rules from birth, they unconsciously ignored the possible danger when faced with an unfamiliar situation.

Perhaps it was the collective conscience regarding the idea of an Angel, as well as the historical and cultural context that led them to act in this way.

Sidquiel remained indifferent and did not respond.

He simply raised his hand.

His fingers glowed in a faint white light worthy of an Angel.

"Silence."

His command, just like the gunshot in a steeplechase, caused the flickering light on his fingers to fly off in determining directions.

"Argh..."

"Ahhh..."

"Nooo..."

Several people fell like dominoes and did not forget to let out shrill cries of pain and panic.

They never thought it would escalate to this point.

Unlike the first to fall, those who could see and analyze in more detail what was happening used the others as shields.

"What the fuck?!"

"Get the fuck away from me, motherfucker!"

Still, it didn't work.

Energy beams with impossible malleability surrounded the human shield and finally reached their target.

They looked like extremely accurate guided missiles.

And serving as an example. The remaining ones fled with all their might.

But the outcome was already set.

Also, the speed with which they ran was far from what was necessary.

Thus, all those who had cursed or insulted were killed without being able to resist.

It is a pity that being fathers, mothers, children or others, they did not know how to value their lives and therefore acted rashly.

Following this, a new silence was established. But it was one born of hesitation about what the near future would bring.

Will we also be killed?

Others who, in spite of everything, and who were also positioned close to those killed by Sidquiel, approached with curiosity and saw that in the center of the foreheads of the corpses there was a hole as wide as the point of a needle, oozing a bloody liquid.

"!"

They swallowed saliva and walked away without forgetting to give short and quick glances at the Angel, no... Demon! Hoping not to have disturbed him.

If they ended up as corpses on the ground for snooping, they would have no time in life to repent.

Sidquiel lowered his hand that had already stopped lighting up with flickering lights and said. "Let us continue."

This time no one complained or instigated any kind of trouble. They merely nodded fiercely with fear shining in their eyes.