Radicle (Terminal trilogy #2, can stand alone)

17: Breaking the law

So what if Michael was some test subject? So what if the all the Brothers were? The whole world could be fucking test subjects. It didn't matter to me. I was born from Michael's hands, needle-holding or not. And Michael was so much more than a man to begin with. He always had been.

I recalled the address- the Richter building, south-south western block, street two- and set out. I was starting to learn the way this city was organized. Each street was a large circle, with never-touching lines radiating from the central square. Each street name was thusly a number, and certain parts of the city were easily divisible into blocks. The only difficulty was figuring which block was which, and how the numbers were arranged.

I had to head to the central square to align myself properly. The three buildings- Melchior, Caspar, and Balthazar- stood imposingly overhead. Large, far too large, monitors were broadcasting newsreels and advertisements on the two side buildings. But Caspar, the building of The Few sat blank. Its steps were wide and empty.

This square wasn't that far from the church. I felt like I needed to do something there instead of doing whatever I thought I was doing-

Or, no. No need to worry about a couple of demons guarding a couple of disgusting children. I put my ring on. Even in my half-Grace, its power was reassuring.

I found the Richter building, tall, white, and blank like the rest of its street, and entered. The door to the residential apartments about the first floor was locked, so I kicked it in and drew my blade. In such narrow halls, I formed my Grace into a spiked club. Better for unexpected close combat. It flickered weakly in my hands, but hopefully the spikes would still cause enough damage.

I came to the door of the apartment, and again had to bash it in. It was made of weak wood. The combination of my foot and club was plenty to break in a hole.

There were people, it turned out, behind the door. Three of them. As I unlocked the door by reaching through the hole, I could hear them speak in hushed voices and the clicks of their guns.

I opened the door, and was immediately shot in the shoulder. Bullets don't harm angels too much. But this was Hell- Raphael was a long way off, and I was going to have to deal with this wound until then. The less damage, the better.

The three demons- I was too much in a combat state of mind to look too close at them- were about ten feet off, at the other end of the room.

I swung my blade, freely letting it expand into from a club mace into an unwieldy blade of several feet that crashed into the wall. Two of the demons had ducked- it was a slow and difficult to swing weapon, after all- but one had failed too. His head had been cut smoothly off, and the blood was starting to soak the carpet.

I had pulled my blade back to me, taking it from its guillotine shape back into a much more manageable sword. The two remaining demons readied their guns, but only one of them was any good of a shot. I was hit again, this time in the leg. As I fell to the floor, I extended my sword into a spear and stabbed one of the demon's legs.

Grace burns demons. It's simply too pure for them. And thus, the demon I stabbed fell to the ground screaming in agony. It wasn't going to harm him for more than a few seconds, but it did give me a chance to stab him in the eye and slice his face apart from the inside.

The last demon shot me on the back. She was holding back a bit. I think her small gun didn't have many bullets in it. I was not in much pain. I couldn't be when I was fighting. It would be no good to have weakness when it came to spilling blood.

When I leapt at the last demon, she dropped her gun and pulled out a little knife. I pinned her to the ground, but in doing so fell right on her knife- it pierced dangerously close to my neck. Maybe it had hit my neck? I was not thinking of such things right now.