Moth Cathedral

When the fallen angel finally ended his monologue, the Priest was relieved to see him leaving. "I hope never to see you again Shemyazaz," said the Priest. "You are probably the worst satan there is. Begone from this Holy place! Begone, and never return!"

Shemyazaz made a courteous bow.

“I shall indeed leave this congregation of the damned. But we’ll see each other again, probably sooner than you think.”

He began to leave but stopped and turned towards the Priest again.

“You know what? You are my only ‘living’ relative and I’d like to give you this.”
He produced a small limestone with intricate carvings.

“It’s the very first enchantment ever created by man. It makes the bearer an undisputed leader of men and irresistible towards women. Do with it as you please, but keep in mind that if you destroy it you release the power into the world for anyone," he looked the Priest firmly in the eyes and made a sweeping gesture, "ANYONE, to possess.” Shemyazaz smiled.

“I have absolute faith in that you will follow your true nature and use it… wisely.”

He flung the stone to the Priest, turned on the spot and left the Cathedral.

1:23am Thursday 20th. Conclusion of Shemyazaz's Visit

The stone hurtled through the air, somersaulting its way towards the choir stand, as it lost momentum, it began to descend, closer and closer towards the priest. Gravity pulled at the stone with such force that it sped up as it descended, hurtling dangerously towards the man's face, but suddenly it froze, held in suspension somewhere between time and space. The priest calmly studied it, careful not to touch it.

Immediately Shemyazaz stepped out from the building, the cloaked nun stepped out from within the shadows and shut the great doors with a little too much force. The noise would have been loud enough to wake the entire monastery just across the backyard. "Sorry Father, I'm just so glad he's gone" said Codename, hurrying back through a small door nearby.

The old man called Nokteel slowly fell to his knees and quietly began to cry. He had lied to his only son, and now he could not bare the shame.

"Father, come quickly" said the Priest, still studying the floating rock but the weeping man could not rise. "This piece of limestone, the markings on it... it resembles the Acheulean's Rock, a mythical amulet of leadership. Where would Shemyazaz have gotten it?"

There was no response, nothing but weeping. The priest turned his attention to Noktil and realised the man was crying. Quickly, he rushed to his side.

"What ails you father?" he asked quietly but there was no response. So he moved closer and embraced the fallen angel. With his gloved hands, he patted his arm. "Have faith father. Truly, you have not fornicated and truly, you have not imparted forbidden knowledge. You did defect from God, but indeed you no longer rebel. Have faith father, for I believe in your sincerity. You shant be among the satans of the Abyss. Forget the words of Shemyazaz, for they are wicked and spiteful."

((Blackout))

Outside the cathedral the mist suddenly grew thicker and all sound became distant and muffled. The street lights seemed to fade and even the moon appeared to shine less brightly. From a nearby alley an elegantly dressed man slowly appeared. His pale face looked noble but emotionless and his intense eyes gave the feeling that they had seen far more than any sane man's mind could endure.

Partly obscured by the shades from the alley he observed the man that just left the cathedral. The great door slammed shut behind the man but the sound drowned in the fog and you could only hear a soft thud. As he slowly started following him, there were no sounds of footsteps and since the mist lay thick around his feet you couldn't really discern that they were actually moving.
Shemyazaz felt the new presence and glanced slightly over his shoulder as his follower closed in.

"I see by the looks of you that our brother wasn't interested in your words" Kabaiel said. His voice was slow and cold and had a tone of strong cynicism. "Although I'm not surprised, he was never the bravest of us."
Kabaiel raised his head and looked up at the gloomy night sky. With a sigh he continued, "The stars tell me that the day of tribulation draws closer for each year, and if he still naïvely believes that He will ever forget him, then he's on his own."

"But I bring some good news, my brother. I have found and spoken to some of the others. Baraqiel, Armaros and Sariul are ready to join us." Kabaiel snickered softly. "Heh... Baraqiel said that it was about time. That we've waited long enough and that it's time for action. He has always been a bit impatient but I must agree, he does have a point..."

The Preist and The Nomad

Sunday the 20th, Early Morning

On the roof of the Moth Cathedral a man in black crouched low, observing the building through brick, tile, stone and mortar he watched the various inhabitants come and go, one in particular he sought most. As his long black hair rustled in the wind, he shifted his weight and knelt back to survey the area.

All around the building, a thin layer of snow dusted the ground as did it lie on the roof-top too, on that cold January morning, the sun glistened from the settled flakes as they gently melted into the new day.

'So many places... so many times... yet I am never ceased to be amazed by snow and the chaos and wonder it brings.' he thought to himself idly.

There was a rush of wind as wings slowly folded themselves around a darkened form, "well it appears the information was right...you and your filth planning to attack a place of holy revenance...good thing I employ alternative methods to finding my information...some say hacking, no matter the target, is illegal...I say hacking your database is completely legal..." he smirked.

"Since I found out the information I've been keeping an eye on the church...looking for anything suspiscious...and a figure crouched on the roof...well that's pretty suspiscious..."

He stepped out of the imposing shadow of the cathedrals spire. In his demonic form, eyes blazing with the fires of righteousness..."so...Oswald, you think you can beat up my friends, kill innocent people and try to blow up a Cathedral and get away with it?"

He grinned, "perhaps I should ask another question...have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

"That's an interesting question, Edward. Have you?" asked the man as he rose to his feet, arching his neck to one side curiously.

The man, in his early thirties, wore dark glasses beneath a mane of black hair and underneath his sleeveless waist-coat he wore a black bow-tie and a golden yellow shirt. On his left breast pocket was the symbol of a Sun in the same yellow colour.

He wore odd shoes beneath his smart black trousers, they seemed to be a sports shoe, constructed from fabric and metal intertwined in such a unique way that gave them the look of a soft alloy.

'Looks like one of the Preists Guardians... I may have to take him down. He certainly seems to be looking for a fight, but I can't reveal my true mission to him, not before I can get to the Preist... I'll begin with rudimentary defense.' he thought.

The unknown man scrubbed his nose with his thumb for a second, and then flicked his wrist out to his side. A full length Katana shot from his shirt sleeve like a sleight of hand magic trick.

He rose his other hand to point a finger at Sword of Redemption and began to speak. "I don't want to have to fight you, and you don't want to fight me Demon... Believe me." he said clearly as if it was fact. "This can still end well. I'm here for Pious Hunter, not you."

He chuckles, "hmm..you're not the man I was expecting either...you're not Oswald as I first assumed...shame, I would have like to see his face before I break it..." he grinned and stretched his wings.

Edward cracked his neck, "If you're here for St. Michael then you're going to have to deal with me too..."

Dark energy wrapped around his fists, "perhaps somewhere away from the Cathedral, though if you prefer to fight here then I don't mind.."

He looked at the Katana with a raised eyebrow, "hmm well atleast that makes the fight interesting," he grinned, "come heathen...give me your best shot"

He swung the tip of his sword now to point in Edwards direction.

"In my code, a verbal or physical challenge must be met with the defeat of the enemy." he said, then moving his Katana's grip into his centre so as to hold it vertically with both hands.

"I don't want to kill you, but you must Submit!!"

With that he leapt towards Edward, sword held high over his head gleaming in the winters sun, unstoppably set on its deadly path as he flew through the air...

He grinned, "hmm a brash move.." he ducked and rolled forward, hopefully bringing himself out of reach, "so you do wish for a fight...well then heathen...as the saying goes, let's dance!"

He sprinted forward, flinging his fists in a blurring flurry of abyssal energy.

The Swordsman landed and turned to face a flurry of hits. As they smashed into his face and chest, his glasses flew away from his face while he was thrown off-balance. The glasses themselve hung in the air only for a few fractions of a second before turning to dust.

Gaining his balance by taking a step backwards The Swordsman withdrew his sword arm behind him and grabbed Edward with his free hand. His eyes lit up not with light, but with a look of envigoration and then with a gentle shove he pushed the two of them apart using an unnatural power which felt like magnetic wind, an invisible force that rapidly propelled them away from one another.

In the confusion The Swordsman dissapeared amongst the shockwave, which rattled the tiles on the Cathedral roof as it moved over them.

Appearing again inside another bubble of air he landed much further along the roof from Edward. The shockwave from his teleportation made a low thudding noise like a distant drum, and he quickly took up a low defensive stance with his blade-edge between himself and his attacker.

Edward flew backwards into the Cathedral spire with a dull thuds, knocking him to his knees. He grinned and slowly got up onto his feet, "well it's nice to know Oswald sent someone with a little bit of skill after St. Michael and myself..."

He smirked, "let's see how you try this..." a fire flared around his upper arms and descended to cover his fists. He dashed forward as the fire and abyssal energy mingled, a swirling maelstrom of light and dark as he dodged to the right, bring his fist forward.

Nigeria, West Africa. Late Sunday evening.

Reverend Pious Micheal Hunter sat, eating breakfast with his friend and accomplice in missionary work, Rachel Grey. "What you are eating is called Eba in the Yoruba language" said Rachel. "Its a paste like mashed potatoes but made from cassava roots"

"Its lovely, thank you Rachel" said Pious. Looking up from his food, he expected to see Rachel at the other end of the small wooden table, but instead he was atop the roof of Moth Cathedral, witnessing a brawl. He jumped to his feet and was suddenly back in Africa.

"I have to go. There is unrest back at the Cathedral" he excused, before disappearing round the back of the mud hut. "Why is it, everywhere we go to preach, you end up being summoned back to America?" Rachel asked, following him out.

.

"Well it's nice to know Oswald sent someone with a little bit of skill after St. Michael and myself..."

Who does he think I'm working for? Query... Oswald... 523411 Hits... Inconclusive Information, too broad.

The Swordsmans eyes refocused on Edward.

"Let's see how you try this..." smirked Edward as he launched forwards with a Light and Dark punch, ducking to the right.

His target wasn't fast enough to dodge it in his current state. So he was hit squarely in the gut as an explosive plume shot outwards from his mid-rift enveloping Edwards arm. The Swordsman was thrown clear of the roof, trailing a line of black smoke like a firework as he flew.

He fell through the air backwards, several stories from the Cathedral roof, smashing into the ground hard. With the impact shaking his entire body, he lost his grip and the Katana in his hand made a revolution through the air then dug neatly like a shovel into the frosted grassy earth with its hilt in the air.

"Nnnghh... that hurt..." he said dazed while holding his burning stomach with one hand. Laying on his back in the dirt he turned his head and located his sword which stood several metres away. The Swordsman rolled over and reached out for his weapon.

Edward grins, "hmm Oswald really should send better people after the Cathedral...Hatesman really need better lackies..."

He smirked, "thankfully you've caught me in a good mood, I'm offering you the choice, retreat, go tell Hatesman I'm onto him and his little group, that the instrument of God's wrath is upon him...or you can carry on the fight until one of us isn't conscious or simply dead...your choice buddy..."

He wanted to send Oswald a message, just like he had been sent a message by what the TLF had done to Jean-Luc. St. Michael was away in a missonary mission and he felt that the Cathedral always had to have a guardian.

The Swordsman stopped reaching for his sword and turned to Sword of Redemption.

Searching... Hatesman... Subject Found... Profile Listing...

The Swordsman sat upwards with a force that lifted him straight onto his feet unnaturally, the wound in his gut healing as the ice at his feet evaporated and seemed to feed directly into his legs. His body appeared to be using the water to reconstruct itself naturally.

"Hatesman is Oswald? No, I'm not with him, Demon. I'm working alone and I'm certainly not after your Cathedral... I need to find St. Michael, and now I know that you know where he is! Are you going to tell me, or do I have to force it from you?"

With that, he held out his hand to his side, and his sword teleported into it.

"One way or another, I'm going to find Pious Hunter!" he yelled to the roof, taking up a power stance from which he could make his next move.

He smiled, "well that depends, what do you need him for, if it's to kill him then I ain't gonna tell you..." he raised his fist, "strike me down and I shall become more powerful than you can ever imagine..." he chuckled, "sorry couldn't resist."

The man smiled at the joke Edward made, altering his tone to a friendly one, "Well, no I'm not going to kill him. That would be in direct contention with my purpose here. The world needs him. I can't tell you why but I can tell you that my name is Zero and I'm here to make Pious Hunter an offer." he said, as he teleported back onto the roof with another burst of air, landing a few metres behind Edward.

Is he really going to trust me after a battle he assumes he's winning? Perhaps I should just take the information... Zero thought to himself as he gripped his sword tightly by his side waiting for Edward's reply.

He turned around slowly.

"If your here just to talk, then I can't have a beef with you can I, besides, Saint Michael isn't here right now...though I have no doubt he'll turn up soon enough, he has a habit of turning up when he is needed..." his whole demeanor had changed, seemingly less aggressive and far more open than before.

"However if you do make a move to attack him, I am not the one you should be worried about Saint Michael is far more powerful than myself and has been fighting for what I can assume has been a very long time..."

Zero smiled. "His reputation truly preceeds him. This is why I've come to see him."

Zero held out his Sword and then jammed it into the cathedral roof, point first, as if it the granite were made of cheese. As the next gust of icy air hit the two above the cathedral, the sword disintergrated into a fine powder and Zero made an effort to collect the particles into his finger tips like a vacuum. The glasses that Edward had dislodged earlier, reappeared on Zero's nose as if by magic. Calmly, he readjusted them.

"You know, for a Demonic Guardian you're quite sociable. What did you say your name was?"

A gentle whisper of the cold winds suggests a sudden presence high above the Cathedral spire. Stood firmly before the giant cross was the Priest, dressed in his holy garments. He had heard the intruder's introduction and in his curiousity, decided to eavesdrop further, less he is discovered.

Edward smiled and bowed, "My name is Doctor Edward Johnson, most call me Doc or Ed, whichever you prefer."

He folded his wings about himself, "Forgive me for being so aggresive earlier, it's just that with the Terra Liberation Front making this cathedral a target I made an unjust assumption that you were here to attack it, I could not afford to take the risk"

He looked down to the people below, "all this noise and kerfuffle and they are none the wiser, as is probably best for them, if they knew the true threats around them every day, I think Paragon City would be a ghost town..."

"Yes, this seems to be the kind of city where everyone is on edge and ready to defend themselves. It's the unknown element, never being sure who is normal and who could be Super-Human. You were right to defend your homestead in light of a potential threat, even soldiers in this place are capable of reaping untold destruction."

Edward chuckled, "indeed, sometimes I get surprised myself about who suddenly pops up with super powers..."

He stretched his wings, "so...why exactly are you here to talk with Saint Michael about...if it's business that's strictly between you and him, I understand and shall take my leave, I have no doubt he's probably already here keeping watch over us both, you never can tell with him..."