SuperM: Super Ones (KPOP Multiverse)

Memory 001 / Heaven's Savior

There was something so serene about the consistency of bloodshed. The young general's routine certainly did not lack any of it. The Divine War was a grand example of such indifference to who was involved; death was inevitable, even in the Heavens.

The general stared upon the bloodied field from atop a hill, eyes looking upon the usually tranquil grassland. The Golden Meadows were appropriately named after its constant state of noon, the sun's light perfectly bestowing upon the land where no shadow can hide. It was barren most of the time, until they found it useful in times of conflict. The meadows spanned for miles, and on that day, so did the bodies. Most were of his allies. They were hit with a surprise attack on their own turf, costing them an advantage.

From where he stood, surveying the battle, he witnessed it all. The blood. The cries. The limpness of each dying comrade. Recognized as a man of great compassion by his colleagues, he was never afraid to admit the pain he felt seeing others suffering. Frankly, his view on war was nothing more than unnecessary slaughter. However, more than anything, the general was never one to turn his back on those in need, and at that moment, it was his allies who were seeking his leadership. His allies, who were all occupied with fighting for their life.

The general pondered on his last thought before settling with a strategy. Before he could descend down the hill, however, a rustle came from behind him. If there was supposed to be an element of surprise, that certainly wasn't achieved. In one swift motion, the general materialized his glowing blade in hand, turned, and shoved his sword forth. In a split second, the tip reached the stomach of an enemy, but just as quickly, they disappeared. A figure is immediately shown in his left peripheral, and the general spent no time turning to see his attacker. They faced one another in a standstill, the grass swaying indifferent to the tension.

The enemy's black, leathery wings were spread to their farthest points, as was the general's illuminating, feathery ones. The man's dark eyes glared into the general's hazel-gray, a fiery passion burning within the both of them. It always humored him how similarly the two breeds were built, yet how differently their destinies paved out. It was a straightforward premise to their war, one he has been putting his life on the line for for 14 years, ever since he arrived in the Heavens.

A cocky grin was on the man's face. "The Angel's Savior, in the flesh," he said. "What'd you do to earn that name?"

The grip of the angel's sword tightened, determined to transfer every bit of reaction from his face to his hands.

"Are you trying to taunt me? Or are you interested in some light conversation?"

The demon only grew more amused, smirking. His hands loomed in front of him, palms open, ready for his dark abilities. The angel dared not to be distracted, knowing that the work of a demon was nothing to underestimate, even if it was coming from a foolishly audacious one.

"I'd love to learn all about who I'm going to destroy, but I personally think that'd be a waste of my time," he responded, voice dripping with venom and enough coyness to make the general's blood boil.

"Well then. Come on and make it quick, yeah?"

Indeed, there was no time left unused. The demon lunged forward, palms ablaze with black hellfire. The angel bounded ahead, sword front, a blinding white aura surrounding him.

He would show just exactly how he got that name.

In a flash, the angel slashed forward. His blade sliced against skin, but the demon recovered and a bloodied palm reached for his throat. Ducking, the angel rolled to the side, unable to get proper footing before he was attacked by a newly conjured dark spear. He blocked it, little hesitation between either as imperial weapons clashed. Hellfire emitted from the demons spear, sparks flaking onto the angel's skin and burning upon touch. The angel grunted in pain as another blow came at him head-on, barely getting his sword underneath it.

The angel shoved the demon away, his feet lifting from the ground. The demon flipped backwards before gripping his spear with two hands and darting forward like a missile. Impeccable form, the angel would say if he wasn't in a dire situation.

Counter-acting, the angel's wings slammed down into the air, shooting himself up to dodge the assault, and the demon passed him. Exposing his back, the angel lifted a hand to summon daggers of the same godly power as his blade, thrusting them forth upon his enemy, certain he had him bested.

But the demon must have had luck in his peripherals, for a cocoon of dark dust encased his body and swallowed the daggers whole. The angel gritted his teeth as a face of utter amusement revealed itself from inside the shield.

As if luck was testing the general's patience, a comrade whom he had recognized charged from below the hill. A radiant arrow struck the demon's shoulder, and he shouted in pain as she cried out in battle. Her determination seeped into her attack, her own army of a dozen golden arrows materializing behind her before seeking the blood of the demon. Each one was consumed whole by the demon's strained efforts of blocking each one, not choosing to cocoon, a decision the angel did not comprehend until it was too late.

"Get away!" the general shouted, surging forward to take whatever blow was about to land on his fellow angel. But his sword merely scratched the surface of a dark spear impaling itself into her chest. The general watched her fall to the battlefield, wings enclosing. Her body hit the ground, thumping as she went limp and joined the rest of the dead fighters.

The demon laughed. "A pity, really."

The general was given no time to mourn, as a flaming projectile lurched from the demon's hand at the angel's face. It missed by a centimeter thanks to winged reflexes, in before more were launched his way. With the demon out of reach, the angel weaved in between missiles, dancing in between any opening his frolicking eyes could spot. He felt the frustration emitting from his opponent as each magic bullet missed its target.

The angel dashed forward past the projectiles and harnessed the power of his weapon. He had practiced this many times, and those many times paid him the gift of swiftness, for in a second, the sword was charged with an unimaginable force of the Heavens. In the peak of its controlled threshold, the demon followed, conjuring his own sorcery as an orb of darkness.

The angel apparently at momentary rest, the demon hurled his orb at the angel, however it never reached him. Like a gate opening for a flood, a sudden rush of energy pulsated throughout their battleground, and the angel spun at lightning speed. The tip of the outstretched sword pinpointed the very center of the orb, the trajectory tampered, and before the demon could realize it had been deflected he was struck in the chest.

As dust rose from the soil, the general came to a definite halt, wielding the sword behind him, and he peered down to see his opponent defeated. Assuring he was unconscious after a few seconds, he came to a slow descend.

Perhaps serene wasn't the correct word when describing such gruesome acts. Ones that the general often went home to deliberate and lose sleep over. No, war was never serene. However, it was the peacefulness of the aftermath that felt encouraging. There would be an end, eventually. It may be in the form of the restful expressions of fallen ones, such as the demon laying before him, or a treaty to compromise all differences. Whatever it may, there will be an end to fight for.

At least, that is what the angel hoped.