Word spread quickly through the sanctuary—the humans had created a weapon powerful enough to slay both angels and Nephilim. As fear and anger filled the air in their hidden realm, the celestial beings convened in secrecy, gearing up for battle while still clinging to the hope for peace.
At the center of this assembly stood Igodo, the eldest son of Samyaza and the unofficial leader of the Nephilim. His presence commanded respect and strength.
"We are not prey to be hunted," Igodo asserted. "Yet we are not naive enough to step into traps without caution."
Next to him, Oduwa moved restlessly like a lion in a cage, while Iyore observed with tightly clenched fists and fierce determination.
"If we wait too long, they'll kill him," Oduwa growled, tension palpable in his voice.
"They're already doing it," Iyore murmured quietly.
Igodo raised his hand, calm but firm. "A rescue fueled by rage leads only to death. We act when the skies align in our favor."
Reluctantly, the siblings conceded. After all, the strategy was not solely his to decide.
Meanwhile, at the palace, King Elak and his war council were already bracing for opposition. They had laid a trap—a silent siege in the making. Skilled archers, hammer bearers, and weapon experts lurked in the shadows at the palace gates. Within the inner chambers of the palace, enchantments lay waiting for the scent of celestial blood to awaken them.
They were unaware of the depth of the angels' wrath.
Back at the sanctuary, Samyaza called forth all angels and Nephilim under the radiant full moon for a high council. His voice resonated with authority and history.
"The humans have become cunning. Their betrayal is forged from the very flames we once gifted them. We cannot reverse that… but we can outsmart them."
He summoned the elemental powers of his most trusted angels:
- Barachiel to summon the storm clouds.
- Zerachiel to manipulate the winds.
- Sariel to shroud the skies in darkness.
- Penemue to disrupt the enchantments protecting the palace.
But even these formidable gifts came with limitations.
"Their weapons," Sariel cautioned, "can only be neutralized for three minutes. That is the span of grace we have."
Thus, a plan was devised:
-The Nephilim would create a striking distraction at the palace gates to lure out the enemy forces.
-The angels would remain airborne and unseen, poised to act during the brief window of neutralized power.
-Shamsiel was to be elevated into the sky, where his strength could return.
Timing was crucial.
As the day of the rescue approached, a supernatural gloom enveloped Dorshan. The skies darkened to gray ash, rain poured down in sheets, and thunder roared through the silence like a drum of war. Villagers cringed in temples, interpreting the ominous signs. The king's war team stood alert, ready for anything.
At the sanctuary, the Nephilim advanced strategically to the palace gates, remaining within a safe distance. When the moment of the three-minute spell arrived, the Nephilim signaled their cue.
Above, the angels descended unnoticed, gliding through the shadows like blades slicing through the air.
Inside the palace, Shamsiel, battered and bruised, found himself unbound. The enchantments had been lifted early, disoriented by the surrounding darkness and energy. Seizing his chance, he grabbed a stolen sword and cut down guards in his way, creating chaos in his wake. The rescue team had to adjust course, following the sounds of combat and the flickering glow of angelic light.
They found him cornered, weak but defiant.
Samyaza reached out and shouted, "Upward, now!"
They surged into the storm clouds, wings straining against the demanding time. But time was slipping away.
A piercing cry shattered the air.
Penemue, caught in the wake of delay, was struck by a divine lance hurled from the palace walls. It ripped through his wing, leaving a radiant wound across his ribs.
He hesitated.
Sariel, abandoning his invisibility, swooped down and caught him in mid-air, his glowing hand pressed against Penemue's wound. "You will not fall today, brother," he whispered.
The team escaped, but not without scars.
At the gate, the Nephilim sensed the signal—the rescue mission had succeeded. In unison, they retreated, gradually disappearing into the mist, leaving the king's soldiers powerless to do anything but watch.
Inside the palace, King Elak seethed with fury. "They took him back," he snarled. "Now, we won't strike with patience; we'll unleash chaos and fire."
The war council focused its collective will on the unseen stone barrier. They were determined to shatter it. They were resolute in their quest to bring this to an end.