The Rule of Succession

Chapter Seven

A/N. Reviews.

"Hey man I feel that Percy is Hella underpowered in terms of being a King Of Hell. One really cool idea I just had is that God (Christian) visits Percy and awakens powers meant for the ruler of Hell. Also any mention on the 7 Deadly Sins?" -ahyanaqueel

That's kinda the whole point. That's why he keeps having to fight, because he IS underpowered. God in this fic is definitely NOT doing that. And yes, this chapter in fact.

"Yessss! This is fantastic!" -Liamtheharrypotterfan

Thank you!

Chapter Seven

It was often said that Angels danced on the head of a pin. However, Angels are not the dancing type, trading the moves for swordplay. The Angels are God's warriors, the first line of defense against sin and its corrupting nature.

As time waged forward, as it does, without stop, without care, and more defenses against sin were erected, Angels were slowly rendered obsolete. And with the revelation, angels found a new purpose—praise of their father.

So no, Angels don't dance, they sing. But if they danced, the head of the pin they danced on would be Heaven. A silver city floating in a black sea of nothingness. The brightest light in the darkest dark. A pristine city that held a dirty past.

The angels were a warrior type, and a history of war had rained down on the streets of Heaven. Two, specifically. The first had been the exile of the Demons, the ones now called the Eldest. The second being the revolution Lucifer had led, blinded by his pride and ambitions. It was a simple battle really, a march towards the central, tallest tower in Heaven on which sat the Primum Mobile—The Throne of God.

Lucifer sought the Throne, and led half of Heaven's Angels towards it. After the chaos, after Lucifer and his army's Fall, was the rebuilding. Of everything but the Primum Mobile. It was the shining beacon that led the Angels through the rebuilding process, reminding them of what they fought for.

For millions of years, the tower stood, Angels going in and out, singing, praising their Lord. Until the tower was closed off.

Not long after, the Archangel Gabriel touched down, his wings folding behind him. Gabriel was an angel of stocky build–Almost all of them were. Muscles built from fighting and building. But Gabriel had something the rest of them didn't. Speed. He was faster than them all, a skill he built from running messages. The Messenger of God he was.

And he had a message.

He set off for the Primum Mobile. He hadn't visited his home in forever, always having a message to deliver. Despite this, he didn't remember the Silver City having such a somber mood to it. The city itself seemed dull.

He reached the stairs that led up to the Primum Mobile. As he neared he noticed one of his brothers was sitting on the stairs, his head on his hands. His wings, with feathers like those of a peacock, were dropping, falling beside him. A halo, pure white, hovered above his head, its light dimmed considerably.

"Brother Raphael. What ails you?"

The Angel, identified as Raphael, looked up. "Father has forsaken us, brother."

"You speak blasphemy."

"Nay. Observe for yourself." Raphael stood up and pointed to the top of the stairs, where the doors to the room that housed the Primum Mobile was shut. "The doors just shut, without warning."

Gabriel sighed. "I believe I may know the reason why."

"Aye?"

The Messenger nodded solemnly. "Lucifer has been slain."