Chapter 25 - One of Them

The house was silent. Everything in its place. Orderly. The furniture, which carried the warmth of the home, stood in harmony with one another like a row of divine sculptures gazing upon a garden. At the door, the sound of a key turning in the lock was heard. The sun's rays revealed the melancholic silhouette of Igorus. He stood over his own shadow. The shadow would not allow him to take a step into that house, where the reflection of everything he felt was reversed. All the vivid colors he beheld created a barrier against the static waves clouding his mind, like a broken television refusing to tune to the signals of time.

But this state shifted. The screen drowned in confusion was shattered by the innocent laughter of a baby. The laughter flung itself against the screen. A child without a face, without a single feature upon its being, hurled a stone at the old television, shattering the glass into dozens of fragments. Beyond the fractured screen lay an endless darkness. Yet this no longer mattered. The shards of glass gleamed with color, with life, each reflecting a distinct image of Igorus from a different angle of sight.

"My son," he said, gazing at Voidanos, who was playing on the couch with a small plush pegasus. The baby laughed and waved his hands playfully when he saw his father.

Golden rings flickered gently around him, as though gravity itself was absent, keeping him hovering slightly above the air. He laughed. He laughed while wielding his powers. Igorus smiled as he watched his son. His mood shifted when he realized that home was the place where he felt the greatest happiness. He closed the door.

A shadow moved through the ruins of the fallen elven kingdom, Hieldergarn. The footsteps of this figure clashed against the silence that had seized the abandoned land. Then the steps ceased.

Lazrael appeared, clad in a dark leather jacket, heavy boots, and gloves that left his fingers exposed like those of a biker. His gaze was detached, indifferent.

"What the hell happened to the two of you?" he asked, as before him lay Atbara and Aldes sprawled across the ruins, their wounds all too evident.

"A misunderstanding," said Aldes, still struggling to piece the lower half of his body back together with the upper.

"Quite the misunderstanding, then," Lazrael replied with a cynical edge.

His eyes drifted to Atbara, who lay face-down, staring up at the sky.

"You were truly useful, Atbara. Your abilities are impressive, even for a mortal creature," Lazrael said, his tone tinged with gratitude.

"Magura... is she up there?" Atbara asked as his eyes remained fixed on the clouds of Angapotea.

"Who?" Lazrael questioned.

"Magura. The demon you just sent into the skies," Atbara pressed.

"I don't follow. What demon are you talking about?" Lazrael said, his voice carrying genuine confusion.

Atbara's expression shifted into one of bewilderment at Lazrael's replies.

"What are you talking about, Atbara?" Aldes asked.

"Hahahahahahahahaha!"

Atbara and Aldes both turned, startled by Lazrael's laughter.

"You actually believed my act, didn't you? I had no idea I was such a convincing actor," Lazrael said, struggling to contain his laughter.

"Then by that act, you're telling us Magura is dead?" Aldes asked.

"Yes, correct. Atbara... demons are forgotten once they die. But we ourselves are the exception to that rule. We cannot forget anything tied to darkness or malice. The fact that you haven't forgotten her shows that your nature and ours are not so different. The plan worked perfectly." Lazrael smiled wickedly.

"And what do we gain from this?" Atbara asked, now calm.

"Unimaginable wealth. You'll indulge yourselves as much as you want within the angels' dominion. You'll be able to kill, to fornicate, to terrorize, and no one will ever notice. Everything you do, I'll cover for you. So, what do you say?" Lazrael asked with a tempting tone.

"Anything?" Aldes grinned.

"Yes, anything," Lazrael answered.

"A Dominion has been slain within the kingdom of Tamasi, Lazrael. The former head of the intelligence office. Do you really think this is the time when Aldes and I can do as we please?" Atbara asked, fixing Lazrael with a serious stare.

"So that's why you're in this state, eh? I should have asked you first. I must sound like a villain now," Lazrael muttered.

"Igorus assumed we killed his brother," Atbara said. "Now you understand what he did."

"It's the first thought that would strike their minds, since Dominions themselves never commit such crimes. And besides, me and Atbara are always the primary suspects," Aldes added.

"Because of your corrupted natures, eh? I see it clearly. I doubt he even used a tenth of his strength, since the destruction wasn't that extensive," Lazrael remarked.

"Neither did we fight at full strength," Atbara admitted.

"Hm?" Lazrael's eyes narrowed.

"We didn't reveal our full power either. We didn't want to harm the general," Aldes said.

"Because you're innocent? How laughable. Even if you had fought with everything you had, you wouldn't have stood a chance against him. He crushed the vampire legions, six hundred thousand soldiers, many of them nearly equal to you, Atbara, by himself on the battlefield. What did you think you two could accomplish, a pair of privileged failures? And you have the audacity to show empathy? Pathetic wretches." Lazrael's voice sharpened into venom.

"Continue your dealings with me. That's the fate you're bound to. No one might say it's a fate bound to me. Queen Kaliga will never grasp the truth of what you're doing, not as long as you work for me," Lazrael said, smiling darkly.

Here's a refined English translation of your passage, keeping its dark, tense atmosphere:

"You're defeated, body and mind alike. How pathetic you are. A counterfeit demon and a mortal. I'll assign you another task in a matter of days," Lazrael said as he began to walk away.

"Hmm. Perhaps I should tell you two things before I go. I'm starting to feel sorry for you wretches," Lazrael added, halting mid-step, his back still turned toward them.

Aldes and Atbara listened intently.

"It was I who suggested to Prince, no, to King Tarnael, that he should kill his own brother," Lazrael said.

Shock struck Aldes and Atbara. Their eyes widened as they looked at Lazrael in a new light.

"The king agreed the moment I told him it was the only way he could ascend the throne. And the very next day, he gave you an order to carry out," Lazrael continued.

"I should have known... Such a thing isn't an honorable act for angels," Aldes said.

"What do you know of what angels think, Aldes? You're just a mortal turned into a pseudo-demon. Tarnael is unlike any angel. At no time does he feel even a single emotion. He recognizes no one before the schemes he weaves, not even himself. He is the most devilish angel I have ever seen. A tyrant," Lazrael declared.

Atbara and Aldes listened without showing any reaction as Lazrael spoke of Tarnael.

"And yes, one more thing. You gave far too much information to atba Friola," Lazrael said, his tone darkening.

Fear stirred in both of them at his words.

"He should have died," Lazrael said coldly, unfurling his wings before taking flight and leaving the ruined kingdom.

Aldes and Atbara looked into each other's eyes, silently sharing the same thought. They stood still, the breeze tugging at their hair.

"I don't know... but I sense something in Lazrael that is far more malevolent than you might think," Aldes said.

"What do you mean? He's a demon, isn't he?" Atbara asked.

"I fear... he is not," Aldes replied uneasily.

The day Atbara and Aldes met Kaies in his office...

"So, Prince Tarnael reached out to you beyond the spheres you dwell in, unexpectedly, and the reward was... 'tempting'?" Kaies asked.

"It's not something we're proud of," Atbara admitted, "but we saw it as a situation where we might come out as winners."

"One less angel, one less problem," Aldes remarked.

"True. A strange situation, I'd say. But so long as none of the parties that matter to us take any penalty, we're fine. Had you told the queen or the king, I don't know what they might have done," Kaies said.

"It would have been a terrifying experience," Atbara replied.

"Indeed. At least now we know Tarnael has both a sister and a brother, and that he killed the king to take the throne. The way he achieves his goals is utterly irrational, yet clever. I say this not as an enemy, but as someone who works in the same field as I do. Every dream requires sacrifice," Kaies said, his eyes lingering on Atbara and Aldes.

"If we were to be caught up in a similar situation again... how would you act?" Atbara asked.

"Nothing, I'd say. I would do nothing, so long as our interests don't clash. You're not Dominions, after all. The way we perceive things compared to the two of you... it's beyond imagination," Kaies replied, his gaze shifting to the angel's torn wing.

"Then we'll leave the wing in your care," Atbara said.

"It's been an honor speaking with you," Aldes added.

"The honor is mine," Kaies said as he watched Atbara and Aldes leave his office.

He then turned his attention to a strand of Oriel's hair. With tweezers, he lifted it carefully and placed it upon a stone plate filled with agar, studying how it reacted to the microenvironment.

"Hmm... all right then. We wait forty-eight hours," he murmured, closing the Petri dish and placing it inside an incubator beside the others. He labeled it Angel 22, in case he forgot.

"Work completed successfully. Hopefully, it's not contaminated. This job is... very delicate," Kaies whispered to himself, leaning back in his chair, weary from the effort.

But in that very moment, a sword pierced suddenly through his chest. Kaies looked down at the wound, stunned by the blood flowing freely. His hearing faded. Weakness and terror overcame him. He vomited blood.

"W-What...?" he gasped in disbelief at the sudden, brutal scene.

"A dream always demands sacrifice, doesn't it? Tell me, which is greater? The dream, or the sacrifice?" asked the shadowed figure that had driven the blade through him from behind.

"Who are you? Gahhh! What do you want from me?" Kaies cried, choking on blood, his hands struggling to wrench the sword from his chest.

"You look like a sacrifice to me."

Another blade was driven into Kaies' heart.

His vision blurred. His head tilted back as the strength drained from him, intensifying with each passing second. Beyond his desk, in the haze of his fading sight, he glimpsed a dark, mysterious figure, white hands like snow resting on a black staff. A white mask, cracked and scarred, shaped like a great beak curving downward. The figure appeared to be watching Kaies through the waves of a translucent sea, stripped of its blue hue.

Kaies drifted toward death with a faint, knowing smile, as though he recognized this enigmatic being.

"It's been so long since we last met, ......" he whispered, unable to finish before his eyes closed beneath the sands of death.

"The time has come," Lazrael said coldly, caressing Kaies' lifeless face, his expression an unflinching mask of ice...