Penny

It was just after class when it happened, the whole group having freshly arrived in the club room. The building trembled with the force of an impact, and there was the sound of shattering glass and crumbling masonry, like a truck had slammed into the school.

In that instant, Penny worked out what must have happened. Rather than dispersing, the orthodox angels had managed to track them down, likely through Eita, and some maverick in their number was willing to launch a daylight attack on a populated school. It wasn't the only possibility, but it was the most likely.

Her eyes focused on the window. A hint of unreal light revealed the truth, and the accuracy of Penny's deduction.

She faced Eita directly, but spoke to mean all her compatriots.

“We should evacuate,” she said.

The thrill of information from their minds washed over Penny, truths laid bare before lips could lie. They'd all guessed why, except Yua of course, and had different degrees of objection.

Azalea went to the window and looked out.

“It looks like something happened on the first floor, near the front door,” she said, “best to take the back exits.”

Azalea's mind revealed more, both what she saw and that she wanted Penny to hear. Gazing out from the window, she saw five angels, and a sixth must have caused the damage. The ones she saw were Munkar, Lailah, Pravuil, Shamnail, and Turail. Based on what else they had seen, Nakir was likely to have been the one to initiate against the front of the building. That left Cassiel unaccounted for, but Penny did not doubt she was close.

“If that's the case,” Penny said, “we should split up.”

Penny could see that she and Azalea had the same idea, and even if it was selfish, she intended to support it. There were two Seraphs in the assault force, which also outnumbered them.

“Why?” Yua demanded, “What's happened?”

“I don't know for sure,” Azalea said, lying, “It could have been a bomb. But we'd best get out of the building in any case.

She drew back from the window and closed the curtains. The angels had broken formation and were circling. Soon enough, they'd likely find their way in, and when they did there were two obvious truths. One was that, however great their coup against Ramiel had been, they were not equipped to handle two Seraphs in close quarters. But the second basic truth is that the Seraphs were not there for the Fallen in general, they were there for Penemue and Azazel – Penny and Azalea. Azalea had a plan to potentially deal with Lailah, and Pravuil would provide the best test subject for an experiment that Penny was willing to stake her life on.

“Then we should go together,” Yua said, “and make sure nobody gets left behind.”

“We're close to the top of the building,” Azalea said, weaving a sweet lie for the unknowing mortal, “We should see if we can help anyone else on our way out. And if we're going to do that, it would be best to spread out at least a little.”

“I'll make a suggestion,” Penny said, “I'll head to the Home Ec rooms. Azalea, you can look into the chemistry labs. Sammy, take Ikami-kun, Jinguushi-san, and Sara and tag a classroom or two on your way down. Don't delay too much.”

“I'm worried about Yomi,” Sara said.

“The middle school isn't too close to here,” Penny said.

“She'll be fine,” Azalea said, “But I'm sure no one would mind if you went to check on her after you got out.”

Time was of the essence, so Penny started walking.

“Hey!” Sammy called.

“Hurry up,” Penny said, not bothering to stop, “this isn't something you want to stick around for.”

Sammy took the meaning. She turned back to the mortals and Sara, while Azalea followed Penny out of the room.

“Are you sure about this?” Azalea asked.

“At least as sure as you are,” Penny replied. Then their paths parted ways.

Penny chose Home Ec for one and only one reason – it was the place she was most sure of being able to find a knife she could get at, since the school actually retained cooking classes. Her experiment required three components: a deadly weapon, something to sound it against, and a sufficiently learned orthodox angel to participate. Among the angels, there was none more learned that Pravuil, so the sole gamble was expecting her to show up.

Once Penny had her knife, and a wok she held almost like a shield, she spread her wings and let the power within her surge. Angels could only sense spiritual energies dimly, but such a flagrant display would not go unnoticed, and if she was looking for Penny's old self as Penny expected, Pravuil would no doubt home in on it. There was a risk of bycatch, of some other angel arriving, and if that was Munkar or Nakir then Penny was almost certainly dead, though she could attempt her experiment all the same.

But, after perhaps five minutes of wait, the sound of alarms and screams echoing in Penny's ears, her gambit was rewarded by the arrival of Pravuil.

To Penny, when she was Penemue, Pravuil had been everything that she wanted to be. Wisest of the angels, the record-keeper of Heaven, even-handed analyst of all Creation. She was not a strong fighter, at least not when measured against other Seraphs rather than lower ranks like Penemue herself. Other angels said she was not beautiful, but Penemue had thought they dismissed her too easily, the stern and slender Pravuil whose icy countenance held no lie. But now, it was different. The Pravuil before her was still radiant with the “glory”, still tall and slender and stern, still powerful and wise, but in one way the Fallen Penny had exceeded her, for Pravuil was still blind.

That was the crux of the issue, that blindness. How did it operate? Was there a way to circumvent it? Eita had reported a crude workaround, though Penny did not properly know if the words he had written would have been confounded had he not gone to such absurd acts in order to ensure they were not.

But, founded in observation, Penny had a theory. The Weaver did not know the instant the halos of the Fallen became flawed. The Weaver did not know when they conspired with each other to descend and Fall, and had not stopped them. Therefore, it was logical to Penny that the Weaver was not editing the senses of the angels live; the halos had to act autonomously based on rules. Further, the very fact that she and the others had existed as long as they had in a flawed state, becoming aware of the Weaver's dark secrets meant that they did not operate on the minds of their hosts, only upon the sensory input.

Therefore, if Penny could find some way to not have her input amended, Pravuil would be able to logically intuit even forbidden concepts. The question was, how far ahead had the preparation of the halos thought, and how far was Pravuil willing to listen.

“Penemue,” Pravuil declared. She was talking; a good sign. Penny took a ready stance, but a defensive one. She held the knife close to the wok, ready to begin the experiment.

“Tell me, Penemue,” she said, “What logic there is in debasing yourself so? Before you are judged, I would know.”

Penny began to tap the knife against the wok. It was a simple gesture, small. And it was threatening. Even though Penny had no hope of truly harming Pravuil the Seraph with a kitchen knife, it was still a deadly weapon. No input related to it could be filtered if the Weaver wanted the angels to operate efficiently. Thus, Penny chose a particular pattern.

Tap tap tap, scrape scrape scrape, tap tap tap. Repeat. Watch.

Pravuil at first leveled her weapon, a short blade, but as Penny repeated the signal, she saw the tension in Pravuil shift with recognition. She now understood that this fighting gesture was more – it was Morse code, beginning with the most famed execution of SOS.

“Speak in whatever manner you please,” Pravuil said, “but do so quickly.”

Now that her actions had been regarded as speech, the second part of the estimation came into play – that the halo could not adapt to advanced concepts like that in its host's brain. It could confound anything that Penny said or wrote, but it would not, she hypothesized, alter the taps and scrapes of a blade against a shield.

Scrape. Tap tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap tap. Tap scrape. Tap scrape tap tap. Scrape scrape scrape. Tap scrape tap tap. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.

- .... . .... .- .-.. --- .-.. .. . ...

The halo lies.

“Statements without truth are naught but blasphemy,” Pravuil replied.

Penny repeated the Mores code, but this time spoke slowly over it, saying the same thing aloud she said with her knife.

In all likelihood, Penny thought, her words would be confounded by the laws of the Halo. The Weaver couldn't allow an angel to hear such a dangerous concept any more than it could let the Fallen, who escaped its grasp, be. Doubt was toxic to the kind of authority it wielded, after all.

Pravuil lowered her knife.

“I admit your evidence,” Pravuil said, “inconclusive though it is.”

Then she turned away.

“Try to avoid getting killed before I check your work,” she said. Then, she was gone.

Penny took in her wings, tried again to vanish into the guise of an ordinary schoolgirl, and sank to her knees, desperate to catch her breath. Angels did not feel fear, but Penny was no longer an angel.