To say Father Gorgon was 'controversial' was a bit of an understatement.
When the Church attempted the Holy Crusade to take Jerusalem, the angels spoke, leading to the deaths of hundreds of soldiers.
As the story goes, when the angels called down God's fury upon humanity, he notably ran through his home city and carried the injured back to the church's medical ward. His feet bled. His hands coated with the blood of the injured. More fire rained from the sky. Holy light burned flesh from bone.
To this day, the holy medical practitioners wear a sigil consisting of two red foot prints and a red palm print. The inspiration for this design is inspired by a painting in their quarters, said to be depicting the man briefly catching his breath in a doorway.
The church originally denounced him as a heretic for 'interfering in God's wrath'... or so the story goes. That's wasn't even the height of his controversy. No, what clearly dominated the conversation that struck down his hopes of achieving sainthood: "I did not see the will of God acting through those creatures."
He refused to repent his blasphemy; until his barely recognize-able signature appeared on a confession following an experience on the rack. The church subsequently tied him to a stake for burning.
The population broke through into the execution area to protest the action, bearing milk and rancid fruit to throw at the clergy. His words stopped this self-mobilized congregation, earned through suffering in service to the city.
He notably told them: "Do not stain their immaculate robes and gold threads. Coat me in your wrath instead. Bath me in your fury. I will standing humbly here, accepting your confessions of wrath and absolving you of your sin."
The crowd, confused, but accepting of his wishes, pelted him and his platform in overripe fruit. Disgusting infested cucumbers splashed upon his pyre. Expired milk dripped down the wood into the underlying hay. By the time the action was done, the man nigh unrecognizable under the filth that covered him, he looked over to his fellow clergy: "I claim this sin for myself. Let it be done. God shall decide if my mission is over. Not you!"
Some of the soldiers dropped their torches. Others drew their swords only to throw them to the ground. Seven torch bearers remained.
...the pyre would not light...
"My mission is not done!" He declared.
This whipped the crowd into a frenzy. The details are fuzzy following this event. Some scholars claim he should have been beatified.
Others, less inclined to the faith, believe there were actually two institutions created that day, and not just the healers. The 2nd institution specifically investigated the legitimacy of the angels themselves. To date, the church has never admitted the existence of this research team, but years later, the group responsible for reaching out to angels became noticeably quiet, and underfunded.
From a summoner's perspective, this begs the question: what exactly is the relationship between 'Heaven' and 'Hell?' The demons have their theories, but nothing conclusive. They seem as much in the dark as humanity.
***
The horns erupted from across the city, signaling a coming apocalyptic event.
"You've heard the stories." Leoni commented. "I recommend you hurry."
"What is that!?" The priest yelled.
"It is an angel's fury." Answered Deimos. The certainty in his answer raised questions in Egil's mind about the zealot's experiences.
The priest turned to Egil. "Are you responsible for this!?"
"No!" Egil retorted.
"But one of your compatriots were! I know about the demon link. Who were you talking to!?"
"If you mention my name, I will kill your demons, and the human!" Leoni threatened.
Aziza... Lena... Logan... "What are they? Hostages now?"
"They are whatever I need them to be."
Son of a- Mother fucking bitch!
The priest took a step towards him. "People are going to die! Innocent people!"
Leoni interjected once again. "...and he can do nothing to stop it. Let the boy chaser act out one last bout of faux pious outrage. We all know the church is really just sweating the lost tithes."
Egil thought about the woman in the audience he told to go home. Home isn't safe now. His words were meaningless.
"Are you listening to me!?" The priest yelled.
Egil called out for the wolves. The plan just went tits up... but, he can't stop the angel's actions. He had to rescue his team. Damn! ...Damn! Damn! Damn!
He suddenly felt exhausted. There were like... a billion ways this could have played out.
"Fine." The priest rubbed the ridge of his nose. "We might still have time to get all of us out of here. Summoner, I am placing you under arrest for... for... all these deaths." He motioned for the nearby soldiers to take Egil, as he turned his back on the summoner. "Deimos. If he resists, kill him."
Deimos, in his tattered rags hoisted his hammer cross over his shoulder. "I will enjoy watching you confess your sins."
Thunk! An arrow planted itself into the zealot's thigh. He immediately turned away from the source, dipping his cross backwards, letting its girth protect his back.
Ping! Ping! Two more arrows; both of which bounced harmlessly off the gigantic steel cross.
Tap tap tap tap tap... The sound of footsteps. Flash step, followed by the glint of metal from the conic hat swordsman as he drew his curved sword's blade straight into the abdomen of one of the soldiers. The afflicted soldier took a step back. The fabric of his tabard parted, revealing the brigandine plates below.
The soldier turned to face him.
"Nani?" The swordsman gave a subdued expression of shock, realizing his blade hadn't penetrated the armor.
Egil flash stepped behind the protected soldier, drawing the dagger he snatched from the faye's... knight? Between the plates and the riveted steel rings the church held onto as standard attire, the best weapon for this case, was to have a blade thin enough to bypass the rings.
He dipped the blade's tip into the soldier's neck, piercing within one of the rings. The soldier raised his hand to try to stop the blade, but it was already in too late.
Meanwhile, the swordsman adopted a two handed stance, only upon raising his sword above his head, the soldier swung up with his shield, catching the swordsman's arms, while stabbing forward with his own weapon, towards the fighter's abdomen.
The demon flash stepped behind the soldier, doing another cut with the sword. Once again, at most he merely achieved causing the soldier to stumble forward. Damnit!
Egil looked back. Deimos began to almost glide through the air towards the archer, as her arrows seemed to clang harmlessly off his cross. Ok, at least the swordsman-
"TENCHI-"
His gaze returned to the swordsman, as a gust of wind, almost like a mini-tornado stretched from the blade of his sword up towards the clouds. When he dropped the blade this time, the narrow tornado concentrated into a single grey strand of wire, that Egil could only barely make out, followed the blade as it rested parallel with the ground.
...nothing...
Well that didn't do shit. The soldier stopped, holding his head. As he turned to look back, only one half of his head moved as it seemed to peel away from its other half. This separation seemed to follow down the middle of his body. His armor suddenly hung loose from his body, only held on around the appendages.
"UCHI TENCHI-!"
Another bisecting slash. The words drowned out with the sound of a turbulent wind. Egil traced the slash to its destination: Deimos. The demon hunter. A slight shift in his cross just before the impact...
The zealot took a few steps back from the impact, as the cut tore a noticeable gash in the steel cross.
Thwap... thwap... thwap thwap thwap...
The archer didn't rest on this opportunity, but it would be hard to believe the arrows actually penetrated their target's chainmail.
The Tengu sent another arc of wind, gouging another chunk out of the steel. The zealot's structure collapsed, and he began to crumple under the cross. Yet another arc of wind hit, actually knocking the cross to the side.
Thwap thwap thwap...
Egil drew his dagger. We can finish this asshole. Flash step in, flash step out.
"Egil! No!" Leoni yelled over the connection.
Outcome 2...
Egil appeared behind the zealot. What!? His arms and sides. The arrows weren't dangling. ...he's not wearing armor!?
With a loud *crunch!*, the zealot's arm flew back, grabbing Egil by the neck. Egil jerked back, but the grip didn't give.
"Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae..." The zealot started muttering.
Fuck it! Outcome 3!
He appeared next to the zealot, opposite the arrows this time. This should be fast enou- Who is that in the zealot's grip?
As if Egil had been spun around too many times, a wave of nausea washed over him. He was back in the zealots grip as if he had never left it!
"...adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritalia nequitiae, in caelestibus..."
His diaphragm spasmed. "Hwwwaaaarrr..." The noise came out as his acknowledgement of his miscalculation, along with his stomach contents spraying over the zealot's arm.
The screams of his demons erupted over the demon link.
Egil gasped for air. Collect your thoughts. ...IS THIS AN EXORCISM!!??
He jabbed his dagger into the zealot's forearm.
"...auxilium hominum, quos Deus ad imaginem similitudinis suae fecit, et a tyrannide diaboli emit pretio magno..."
Focus damnit! "FUCK YOU!" Egil twisted the dagger between the tendons. There was't any blood! What the fuck is this guy!?
The zealot took a deep breath, and said louder. "...tibi tradidit Dominus animas redemptorum in superna felicitate..."
Another wave of nausea washed over him. Oh my god! Egil's eyes rolled back. ...the sight of his father's bloodied face flashed in his mind...
...the fae raping him...
...the summoners hanging him...
Through all the betrayals, something cut through the agony. A cold deadness. His eyes looked down; unfeeling, uncaring. At the height of his training, this was the feeling that took over when exhaustion hit.
Egil withdrew the dagger. It was pointless. ...because there's a nerve that runs within the elbow that would make for a much better target. The zealot might be able to resist pain, but what about a loss of sensation?
He drove the dagger into the inner part of the zealot's elbow and twisted. The zealot noticeably shook from it, as he stumbled through the exorcism. It didnt matter at this point. Egil coldly removed his neck from the zealot's grasp. This flagellant could resist pain, but he would need to reach a new level to fight biology.
The zealot stopped the incantation, and immediately began floating away. The fight was over.
"Nope." Egil said, dropping his dagger and pulling out both swords. The zealot had no armor. The summoner didn't think. Deimos needed hobbled. With both swords, he drove the tips under where the bicep and tricep were... and shoved downward, cutting through the meat.
The cloaked figure wordlessly floated away.
Snap snap... the archer resumed firing but her aim was gone.
"Ten... chi..." The swordsman fell over, heaving on the ground.
With that, the zealot disappeared into the shadows, like a ghost.
It was strange seeing a creature with a bird's head vomit. His hat had rolled away. Egil stumbled towards it.
The archer presumably let out some sort of whine before vomiting herself.
The only reason Egil was able to stand is his dark side had essentially taken over. Utterly detached. He felt the pain. His surroundings seemed to slowly tild to the side. It didn't matter. But, while this darkness was cold, it wasn't without compassion. He picked it up, and moved it within the bird demon's reach after he composes himself.
Motoko. The fox girl laid on the pavement. Egil stumbled towards her, sitting down and propping her head in his lap. She was in a bad way. Her hair matted against her face. Egil moved it away.
There's a good chance she took the brunt of it.
"Motoko!" The archer yelled.
"Wolves!" He commanded over the link. Everyone needed to get out of there fast. The wolves surged from the darkness between buildings and erupted into the lamp light.
Egil draped Motoko over one wolf and the swordsman joined her. The archer jumped on a third.
Kage dropped immediately in front of the demonologist. Even flat, it still required some effort jumping onto her back.
Suddenly, the visage of the angel looming over the city's horizon caught his attention.