-----

  “So how do we get to land? The shield is stopping us as well.” Shepard questioned.

  “Surely, they saw us wrecking the Chaos ships? They should realize we’re here to help.” Yoruichi pointed out.

  "I think they might be a bit busy otherwise," Seraphiel argued. "Besides, the enemy of my enemy isn't necessarily my friend."

  "The whole thing could've been a ploy," Kaede suggested. "Although, slaying a Demon Primarch, losing thousands of ships, and giving Nurgle a black eye just for a ploy would require a whole new level of commitment just to sneak in a single ship."

  "We don't need to land," Ophiel stated, pulling up a holographic map of the world and pointed at the Demons assaulting the southern bastion outside the golden shield. "The Chaos forces couldn't really utilize their orbital supremacy due to the shield stopping them from bombarding our forces, but we don't have that problem. The Demons are outside the shield. I seem to have noticed the ship having quite a lot of firepower, and we can add our own abilities to the mix. We can help without actually entering the shield."

  “As good a plan as any. I could get us inside the shield, but if our allies started attacking us as soon as I did, there would be little point.” Seraphiel nodded.

  "For once, it doesn't help that you made the ship so sinister-looking. Normally it's useful to strike fear in others. Just not in your allies." Wrex chuckled. “Now let’s get cracking. We already lazed about enough. Let’s fuck up some Demons.”

  Their ship entered the world’s atmosphere above the demonic hosts. Seraphiel could sense the almost permanent Warp rifts spewing out countless Demons. She could feel the rifts were old, as if they’d become a fixture of reality in this place. Never a good thing with Warp. As the ship and her friends and allies started blasting the Demons below, a terrible premonition was sneaking up on her as she could see in the distance the bastion and the Angels and Draenei fighting the Demons.

  "Mom, you said your levels are the result of fighting at the bastion not far from here. I seem to recall that the bastion holding the Demons at bay for a very, very long time. Has the fighting been like this the whole time?" She asked.

  “Pretty much. I mean, the intensity of fighting varies. Sometimes the constant stream of Demons grows smaller, and sometimes stronger. Not quite like this though. There’s a lot more of them than before.” Ophiel explained. Indeed, almost a constant stream of foul Demons was pouring from the rifts that seemed to be swelling in size.

  Most of the Demons seemed to be either Nurglite or Khornite Demons, though a third of them were from the other two Chaos gods. It seemed Khorne and Nurgle were the main pushers of this attack. Notably, the Nurglite Demons seemed to be off-balance from what had happened to their god moments before.

  “You are aware that Warp entities like the Demons don’t actually die when their bodies are destroyed, right?” She asked, rubbing her forehead with two fingers.

  “Right. It’s not exactly widely known, but we suspected.” Ophiel nodded.

  “And you realize that these Demons, especially the Khorne Demons, gain experience just from the battle itself, not just kills, right?” She asked another leading question.

  “Obviously. I see roughly what you’re aiming at. We get experience too, but more since we’re actually winning and surviving.” Ophiel countered.

  "Yes, but you've been doing this for thousands of years. Angels die. Not of old age perhaps, but for various other reasons. Otherwise, we'd be back as the dominant race of the universe, wouldn't we? The Demons don't. So, for thousands of years, you've slowly been feeding them experience. Am I the only one that sees a problem with this? No wonder there seems to be a higher concentration of more advanced Demons like Juggernauts, and Exalted Bloodletters instead of normal Demons." She added a third finger to her forehead, a headache already forming. "We need to put a stop to this."

  The two of them were still inside the ship, while the others were either standing on top of it, blasting the Demons, or flying around it as the ship's weapons also fired downwards.

  Seraphiel vanished from the ship and appeared above the battle, observing everything below. She didn't really even notice as golden glow of power surrounded her, originating from her golden wings. She looked the perfect image of an Angelic warrior ready to bring the heavens down on her enemies, and that was exactly what she planned to do. Instead of gathering her own powers though, she drew on her connection with Charlotte. "Mother. I believe we're due another show of force. I think it's about time I stopped holding back and showed them a glimpse of why they should fear your Paladin. Let's show these Demons and upstart gods the difference between them and a real deal."

  She got a positive response in the form of power flowing into her. With a simple gesture from her, the rain started. Countless spears of golden power fell on the battlefield, each spear strong enough to tear even a Greater Demon asunder. A constant rain of death that seemed never-ending, no matter how many Demons fell, and no matter how many stepped through the rifts to take their place. No matter how the Demons resisted, no matter whether they were weak or mighty, the spears kept falling and tearing them to pieces.

  Quickly the Demons realized something was wrong. Not only was everyone dying, but those that died were not returning to the Warp. Each Demon struck down was gone forever. Once every Demon on the battlefield had fallen, the spears didn't stop falling but instead flew into the rifts to seek out the Demons on the other side, seeking their prey with unerring accuracy.

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  Ever since the distant War in Heaven where the Warp had turned into the mess that it was, the greatest strength of the entities called the gods of Chaos was that their servants were essentially immortal. Their servants could be beaten back and stymied, but they would always return. That was the scariest thing about Chaos. Their victory was inevitable, only a matter of time. But now their servants were being cut down, never to return. The power invested in them by the gods simply gone.

  The Chaos gods recognized the danger, and the rifts started closing by themselves. Chaos didn’t give ground like this. The sheer volume of time the rifts had existed here, standing against the power of both Angels and Draenei stood as a testament to that simple fact. This wasn’t the first time the Demons had been pushed back, but the rifts had stood, unchallenged until now. And now they were closed, not because she’d forced them closed, but because the Chaos gods had closed them to avoid losing any more of their fragments, as that is what the Demons basically were. Fragments of their gods. And every destroyed Demon was a wound on the god that gave them their existence.

  Only Demon Princes and Demon Primarchs were existences that could exist separate from the gods. Primarchs, because they had been something arguably more powerful before, and Princes, because they were all ex-mortals that wanted to rise up to become gods themselves.

  A great roar of anger and rage came from the direction of the bastion. There was a single Demon that had not perished. A dozen golden spears jutted out from its red hide, shattering as it took lumbering steps towards her, the wounds closing while steaming hot as if the flesh itself was burning. Angron, a Demon Primarch that could be called the embodiment of rage and hatred. One of the most powerful demons of Khorne, with the possible exception of Skarbrand, the Bloodthirster who had tried to challenge Khorne himself for the throne of skulls.

  With a simple gesture from Seraphiel, the storm of golden spears turned on Angron, thousands upon thousands of lances of power lashing out at the red-skinned monstrosity, but somehow the Demon pushed on. Sheer anger allowing it to shrug off wounds and damage that would've annihilated any lesser being. The wounds kept closing almost as fast as they were made. The Demon stumbled several times as its knees were blown out from under it before they regenerated again. Every spear that struck also seemed to do less damage than those that had come before.

  “Should I…?” Wrex asked through a communicator.

  “No. I will handle this. I will finish this.” Seraphiel stated firmly.

  She helpfully floated back towards the ground as Angron finally reached her position, towering over her, three times her height at least. Everyone could sense the steaming rage radiating from the berserker creature, as it swung down a blood-soaked axe. The blade of the axe was almost as large as her upper body, and it was swung down with enough force to level a mountain. And yet, all it took to stop the strike was a single finger of hers being placed in front of it. All of the force of the blow was instantly drained away, not even a crack appearing on the ground below her.

  “Your anger is not enough to deal with me Angron. You should’ve fled when your god abandoned you.” Her eyes flashed with gold, and the demon was forced to its knees, keening in sudden pain. “I’m done toying with your kind.”

  She looked towards the skies, knowing this place was being watched by multiple deities after what had happened to Nurgle. “Hear me Khorne. I know battle and violence are your domains, but this is a fight you will not win. Only death awaits you here. Ask your youngest sibling. And unlike Sai’lantresh, there will be no surprise resurrection in store for you if you keep seeking this fight.” She turned back to Angron. “Now begone.”

  A pillar of such bright light fell upon the Demon that everyone had to turn away, no matter if mortal or god, they all knew this was not a light their sight would survive staring into. And when the light was gone, so was Angron. Another Demon Primarch gone forever, the soul sent to an appropriate afterlife, cleansed by the light that consumed it.

  She returned her eyes to the skies. "Let that be a lesson in not taking a hint and stubbornly sticking to your war."

  ------

  The old Draenei man could finally turn his eyes back towards the battlefield. Even as a favored servant of the Light, the brightness was too much. “Well. It seems Seraphia’s back.”

  Another Draenei dressed like a mechanic was adjusting the projector they all used to observe the situation on the battlefield and laughed a bit. "Yeah, I think there's no doubt of that."

  "She looks good, as always." A slightly younger-looking, in comparison, Draenei man dressed in full armor with a large maul on his back commented.

  “Hah. Of course, that’s the first thing you comment on Maraad.” Another Draenei man dressed like a warrior teased. This one had two smaller weapons strapped to his belt. "Though I can't say you're wrong. Different, but good. Still likes to make an entrance. You can't miss her style, no matter what guise she wears."

  “I seriously doubt you could get that part of her to change.” The only woman in the group, dressed like a scout, laughed. “She’s incapable of not being the center of attention wherever she goes.” As a testament to her words, all of them had recognized Seraphiel, despite looking very different.

  The old Draenei man, clearly the oldest in the group by a large margin, ran his hand through his long white beard in thought. “By the way, who’s going to tell Edirah and Yrel that she’s back.”

  “”””Not it!”””” All four of the younger Draenei said at the same time.

  With a chuckle, the woman continued. “I think it’s only fair you get to pass on the good news Velen. Edirah at least respects you enough to keep her temper in check."

  "Akama, couldn't you…" The respected prophet and leader of the Draenei tried but got shot down immediately.

  “No. Absolutely not. I’m not stupid enough to pick that fight. We all know both of them are going to blow their lid as soon as they hear the news. I’m not going to be in the room when that happens. I value my life too much. I’d rather charge the Burning Legion by myself. At least they’d make it hurt less.” His tone was clearly amused, and he was obviously exaggerating, even if there was a kernel of truth there as well.

  Velen gave a faux shudder. “Yrel is going to kill me.”

  “Eh, you’ve lived before.” The mechanic closed the panel he’d been adjusting, the projector zooming in on Seraphiel and her companions, who were locked in some sort of discussion. “Although, trying to explain to either of them that Seraphia is alive, but didn’t come to meet them before this? That’s going to be…interesting.”

  “No one ever said she always makes the best decisions.” The female Ranger laughed. “Something that hasn’t changed at least.”

  “To be fair, she did just remove a threat that has been allowed to fester way too long. Just when we needed the help too. That might buy her some leeway with Yrel at least.” Maraad suggested in a tone that belied his disbelief at his own words.

  “That might fly with Yrel, but Edirah? Not a chance.” Akama shook his head.

  “Well, it’s a good thing she seems to be able to take a hit from a Demon Primarch without a problem then.” Maraad quickly agreed.

  “She’s not immune to Edirah’s attacks. Emotional damage doesn’t get affected by Vitality.” Akama laughed.

  “Oh, the guilt-tripping will be legendary.” Naielle, the ranger woman joined in on the laugh. “Not that she doesn’t deserve it. Both for not coming by to greet us, and for the disappearing act she pulled after fighting Sargeras.”

  There was a companionable silence for a moment, before the doors swung open, and two women walked in. One was a cheery-looking younger Draenei woman seeming to embody the words 'Draenei Paladin' with her heavy armor. The other was an older woman wearing ornate mage’s robes. Both were gorgeous even among the Draenei, and the two had been discussing animatedly as they walked in. The younger woman turned towards the group inside. “I heard something big happened outside. And I no longer hear the sounds of battle either. Nobundo told us to come and ask you what’s going on.”

  ‘’’’’Nobundo!!’’’’’’ All five Draenei already in the room cursed in their minds.

  “Oh, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll have to go evaluate and repair any damage from the battle.” The mechanic stated genially, hiding his emotions almost perfectly. Almost.

  “What’s going on Hataaru? Surely you aren’t in a rush if the battle really is over.” The older woman narrowed her eyes, sensing something going on, and knowing a tactical retreat when she saw one.

  The younger woman's eyes fell on the projector, at first observing the people depicted before her gaze narrowed on one in particular. "Edirah, I think our good friends and colleagues here are hiding something from us.”

  “Seraphia is back.” Velen just got it over with quickly. “And she just annihilated all the Demons outside, including closing the rifts that spawned them.”

  The air froze over. Edirah was quite literally radiating magical cold to her surroundings. “Well now. I think I’m going to need some detail. And nobody is leaving until I get them.”

  At the same time, Yrel pushed the doors closed and casually barred them so no one could enter.