Godsend and Godslayer
The second rift widened above the battlefield, birthing figures of unbearable brilliance. Seven silhouettes descended—neither fully angels nor men—wielding relics too holy for mortal eyes. Each step they took rippled through reality, warping the city's skyline like a crumpled dream.
Aria's breath caught in her throat.
"The Celestial Chorus… Seven voices of divine judgment."
Flare didn't move. His coat fluttered in the heat of their descent, scorched at the hem, marked with ash and grace alike. His left arm hung limply, still shattered from striking Gabriel. But he didn't back down.
Couldn't.
Wouldn't.
Gabriel rose, eyes aflame with wrath. "This is your last reprieve, Error. Kneel, and we may erase you painlessly."
Flare chuckled hoarsely. "That's the difference between you and me. I'm not looking for painless."
He activated the Contract.
[HELLSIGN: Binding Rejection Level 4 Unlocked.]
His system convulsed. Glyphs burned across his spine, across his soul. Forbidden data surged into his veins like molten sin.
And yet—he stood taller.
Flares of black fire burst at his heels. Chains of crimson code coiled around his fists.
Aria shouted, "Flare, if you push further, you'll—!"
"Yeah," he said, "I'll die. But not before I remind Heaven what fear feels like."
The seven figures raised their weapons.
One sang, and the world trembled.
The others followed, releasing an aria of annihilation—divine harmonics capable of unmaking continents. Light turned to blades. Air turned to song. Reality split like paper.
And Flare?
He walked through it.
Step by step, his body breaking, healing, breaking again. The Devil's contract bled reality around him like dripping paint.
By the time he reached the first of the Chorus, his eyes were black flame, his smile void of mercy.
He moved.
One second, one strike.
The First Voice fell.
Cut through the throat—no blood, only divine light flickering into null.
The Chorus hesitated.
A mortal had just silenced the voice of a god.
Flare tilted his head, eyes locking with Gabriel's once more.
"This is my world now," he whispered. "You just haven't caught up to the rewrite."