“The being in your vision, Zeus, was an angel.” Reema spoke over the sputtering outrage of Poseidon and Hades. “An archangel to be exact, which is… curious. I am an angel. An archangel.”

“Angel? Archangel?”

The feathers on Reema’s wings ruffled. “Angels are servants of God. Archangels, in particular, are His generals.”

“Which god?” Poseidon snapped.

The God,” Reema snapped back. “There is only one. The Creator.”

Hades and Poseidon erupted again, but Zeus held up a hand to quiet them. Neither liked it, but they settled down. “What do you mean we are not gods?” Zeus asked. “We were born of Kronos.”

“So you were. But neither is Kronos a god. Your grandfather, Titus, however, was an archangel. You are, like your father, Nephilim. Half-human, half-angel. Abominations.” Reema simply shrugged at the renewed protestation from the brothers.

“I do not know this Titus,” Poseidon said finally. “This grandfather of ours.” Hades agreed. Zeus too had never heard of this, this archangel. There had been only Kronos the Titan.

“Titus was tricked by Lucifer to stand against God,” Reema said. “He realized too late his error and deserted Lucifer’s Legion just before Michael and his army vanquished them all. Titus went into hiding. From both Heaven and Hell. The Chronicles are incomplete, but it was during that time that Titus lay with a human female and produced who you know as Kronos but who was born as Anshar, the first Nephilim.”

“The first abomination, you mean,” Hades said dryly.

“Yes, well… Titus never got over his shame at betraying Father and it took a toll on him like a wasting disease. As he faded and Lucifer rose, Titus knew he needed to do something. And Anshar would be that something. Titus taught Anshar as much as he could about the Rebellion in Heaven, and instructed him to build an army to stand against the rise of Lucifer, who he knew would one day escape Hell with his demonic Legions and link up with the earthbound angels banished during the War and the dark cults of Dayhak, son of archdemon Belum, one of the six generals.

“Belum?” Poseidon said, “Didn’t that thing just—?”

“Yes. Titus gave Anshar the Fell Stone, so called because it fell from the sky much like Lucifer and his Legions fell, and it was possessed of many powers. With it, Anshar was able to create a race of Nephilim, which he named Titans after his father and over which he became king.

“The Fell Stone also had the power to see the past, present, and future, which Anshar took as having special meaning for him in pursuit of Titus’ goals and so he changed his name to Kronos and declared himself the God of Time. It was about at that point that he produced you three and the others who are so fond of referring to themselves as gods… a by-product of your father’s hubris I suspect. You are second-generation Nephilim. It was that vanity that exposed Kronos to the influence of Dayhak, who corrupted the human part of him during the War at the Shattered Vale. After the devastation of that war, which staved off Dayhak’s first effort at freeing Lucifer and his six generals of Hell, Kronos accepted his fate, knew he would be compelled to evil on Earth, and broke the Fell Stone. He gave each of you one piece of it. The Chronicles suggest there may be other Fell Stone pieces lost out there but it is not clear.

“What good is a broken rock?” Poseidon paced desert ledge, clearly unhappy with Reema’s revelations.

“We don’t really know what the stones do,” Zeus said.

“Yours showed you an archangel…. By the way, do you know where you saw this archangel? Like exactly where?”

Zeus shrugged. “Mountains. That’s all I know.”

Reema nodded. “I see…. Hades’ stone warned him of trouble with the first seal and then led you three to the Shattered Vale and gifted him with the skill of all tongues. Nobody knows the full extent of the Fell Stone’s power. However, that the stones have awoken means that the time is coming for Dayhak’s return. Means that the time is coming for you to fight.”

Zeus glanced at his brothers with dismay, then back to Reema, whose beautiful face still looked drawn from the battle with Belum. “We haven’t fought a war since the Titans. Since I killed father.”

“He would’ve killed you all,” Reema said. “He led the first war against Dayhak, but he led the next one against his own offspring in the name of Dayhak. He couldn’t help himself; he was lost. You stopped Kronos, foiling Dayhak again. Dayhak wants his revenge. He is after the seven seals.”

“So this Dayhak released Belum?” Hades asked.

“Not directly,” Reema said. She paused, breathed deep. “We think it was Michael’s sword.”

“A sword?” Zeus said.

The sword.”

“Is that like the God?” Poseidon mumbled.

Reema glared at him with violet eyes. Zeus marveled at how the flash of anger made this archangel more beautiful than any human or goddess he’d ever set eyes upon. “Archangel Michael is the Creator’s general, a warrior angel of untold ferocity and courage. The Creator gifted Michael with the sword of justice to protect the perfect garden. Michael used it to quell the Rebellion and vanquish Lucifer and his Legion to Hell. Somehow the sword fell to Earth weakening the first seal in the Shattered Vale. We don’t know how, but if Dayhak has the sword and we don’t stop him, he will use the sword to break the other six seals, releasing all of the archdemons, their legions, and Lucifer himself. And that is only the beginning.”

“Why doesn’t your all-powerful Creator put a stop to this?” Hades asked with more than a little contempt. “It would seem an easy thing for the one supreme God.”

“He is your Creator too. You would be wise to wrap your head around that fact sooner rather than later. I would never presume to speak for Him, but the Creator gave us all free will, and he refuses to meddle in the consequences of our exercise of that gift. Lucifer chose not to serve in Heaven, and now we are left to clean up the mess he created. A mess that could destroy Earth unless you three are ready.” Reema flexed her injured wing; it moved smoothly.

“How? How do we prepare for this?” Zeus asked.

“How would you prepare for any total war?” Reema said. “Build an army. Build a navy. Shelter the humans. Plan a strategy. Plan to die.” She paused, her eyes seeing something far off. “I must go. But before I do…” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

She spread her wings and an iridescent light twinkled from the brilliant white feathers. Then that light deepened to a rich purple, spilling forth from her eyes like amethyst smoke. So bright was that glow that the brothers could not look at it. Zeus felt a complete loss of control and his mouth slacked open. The violet essence poured into his mouth and in jarring flashes he saw Creation, the Rebellion and Fall, his own sins. And just as quickly, it was done.

“What was that?” Hades demanded, his spiritual fire flaring about his helmet in chaotic spurts. Poseidon’s eyes were wide, his tattoos flickering light in similarly turbulent bursts.

“I gave you each a measure of my Grace,” Reema said. “It will augment the Grace that you all have and aid you in your fight against the demonic Legion. With time and experience, you’ll be able to slay archdemons. But you must learn its ways first. And I must now take leave. And so must you. The war has begun.” Like a lightning strike, purple-white light exploded around her. In the afterglow, Reema was gone.

Zeus turned to his brothers, fighting confusion, the strange and airy sense of new enlightenment, and yet another emotion he did not much care for: fear. “My son,” he whispered. “Meet me in Acanthus!”

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