Heir of Treachery

Angel's Fall

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"No one is innocent."

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"Innocence proves nothing, only displays ignorance."

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"We are the greatest humans born - we are the flame of humanity while the rest of the world is the spark. In centuries of warfare against monsters, the very demons of hell."

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"Even the cruelty of my own people, I have know no fear."

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"Salvator SANGUINIS!"

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If anyone survived the blast of Idris's nobel phantasm, then they would have been in complete awe. To see anyone save multiple people would make the savior a hero, give them angelic wings and you have Idris.

"Holy shit," he looked around himself, a crater had formed due to the sheer amount of pressure, "It worked.. it actually worked."

Around him was nothing but ruin, but underneath him were small signs of life fully grown from the dead ground. The very nature of Salvator Sanguinis is to both destroy and save, destroy the dying and bring forth the blooming of a new age, drawbacks vary depending on mana usage, some being permanent.

Idris, armored originally silver and red armor, was bruised and bloodied. Blood coated his armor and clothes, bruises forming wherever he was hit. His armor however, seemed to not change despite gaining a pair of angelic wings on to his back (yes it's permanent, severe drawback) and being thrown around by Lancer.

Idris slowly dismissed his armor and sword before falling to the ground, laughing the entire way. A laugh the held pain, yet triumph. A laugh of a man that found defeat in victory. He had nothing left, nothing keeping him human. He was alone and he knew it.

"I always knew, even if I tried to stop it, this would happen. Either I die doing this or I die to my wounds, the latter is currently happening," he started speaking to himself, saying that his death was bound to happen this day.

"In victory I find ruin.. what a strange reward."

As more blood seeped out of him his breath became more ragged, Avalon could not help him here. His noble phantasm was used with all of his mana he had left, it was a miracle he was even awake. The destructive force of it was more focused than he could have imagined making it, the golden light bringing a new life right after all the destruction underneath him.

His newly acquired wings were as limp as his arms, his legs as heavy as stones. His chest felt like someone was constantly slamming into it, making only shallow breathes happen.

"The light is so easy to fall from.. the dark so easy to fall to. To rise up.. it takes a different.. strength. To be.. a beacon.. is.. to be.. remembered.. seen."

As his breathing became more ragged, eyes becoming dull, his body refused to give up. Despite being exhausted and almost dead, he found himself standing back up.

"It.. seems th-that.. I rat-rather die.. standing."

His last breaths were being taken as he stood, and as the golden rays of the morning sun hit him his hair became a blazing gold, his armor shined a beautiful silver, and his wings seemed to reflect the light giving him the appearance of an angel.

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"Mama, why are you telling me this?"

The young voice of a child, a boy no older than 8, spoke out. His wheat blonde hair and aqua eyes seemed to shine in the darkness of the house.