The Earth still smoked.
Fires had been extinguished, the screams had quieted, and the cleanup had begun. Below the rooftop, humans moved like ants—hauling debris, treating the wounded, recording footage, and whispering about the impossible. About the angel they had seen, about the demon who had brought fire.
And high above it all, Kikidori sat. Perched on the same skyscraper where he had first watched this city before setting it ablaze.
His boots dangled over the edge, and he lit a cigarette—not that demons needed to smoke, but he liked the fire. The control. The calm between destruction.
His eyes scanned the ants.
So fragile. So hopeful. They built so fast after ruin. As if stacking bricks and glass would protect them from what they now knew existed.
He smirked. "They saw Heaven," he whispered to himself. "And now they'll chase it… or fear it. Either way, it's not gonna end well."
Behind him, light flickered. A soft glow—warm, golden, familiar.
He didn't turn.
"What do you want?" he asked flatly.
A soft voice answered. "To talk to you."
"Shut up," he replied instantly.
"No," Haruna said, stepping closer.
Now he turned, annoyed. "Fine. What do you want?"
She was standing there again. Pure. Beautiful. Radiant in that annoying celestial way. Haruna's white robes fluttered in a breeze that didn't exist, and her wings shimmered gently, like woven threads of sunlight.
She folded her arms. "Why did you do this to Earth? Why *this* much damage? You sent seven people to Heaven…"
Kikidori exhaled slowly through his nose. "...And sent ten to Hell."
Haruna blinked. "You're *keeping count*?"
"Of course I am. What, you think I just go around torching people at random? Nah. I know what I'm doing."
She stepped beside him, keeping her eyes on the city below. "You changed something."
"I always do."
"No," she said softly. "This time… you *shifted* something."
Kikidori snorted. "They're running scared. Praying harder, screaming louder. Looking for a God who's been quiet way too long. You think that's hope? Nah. That's *desperation*."
Haruna looked over at him. "But why?"
He looked her dead in the eyes. "Because they needed a reminder. That the war up there,"—he pointed to the sky—"and the screams down there,"—he gestured toward the ground—"are connected. This little sandbox isn't untouched anymore."
"You're pushing them away from Heaven," she said.
"I'm *showing* them what Heaven *isn't*," he spat. "You think glowing wings and warm hugs are gonna save 'em? That illusion? They're waking up now. It's beautiful."
Haruna's voice was quiet, almost pleading. "They believed. Some of them still *believe*."
"And most of them *don't*," Kikidori said. "And now, maybe, they'll finally understand *why*."
He stood up, brushing ash off his coat.
Haruna watched him with those same gentle, aching eyes that made his insides twist.
And that's when he snapped.
"You know what pisses me off?" Kikidori barked, stepping toward her. "That look. That little *'I forgive you'* angel look. That pity. That fucking calm. Like you're better. Like you're made of sunshine and justice and I'm just the dirt under your feet."
Haruna didn't move.
He got closer. "I burned a building with a priest inside. He *screamed* for your dad until his voice broke. I laughed. I *enjoyed it*. You think I want your mercy?"
She didn't flinch. "No. I think you need it."
He *roared*.
"SHUT the FUCK UP. Don't talk like you know me, don't stand there with your holy breath and your perfect skin and act like you see through me!"
He started pacing.
"You're just another shiny bird in a cage. You think Heaven is peace? It's politics. You think angels are pure? They're soldiers. You think I'm evil? You've *never* seen evil. You're just a pampered little star-child on a mission she doesn't understand."
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.
"No! No more of this sweet-sounding *bullshit*! I don't want your kindness, or your questions, or your fucking pity. You know what you are to me? A mistake I didn't correct. An echo in my head I should've silenced."
Haruna stepped back, just a little. Her expression didn't harden, didn't falter—but it did… *dim*.
Kikidori snarled. "You're just a fucking reminder that I hesitated. And I don't hesitate. So leave, angel. Take your glitter, take your righteousness, and go."
She said nothing.
Just turned.
A golden portal shimmered open behind her, humming softly.
Before stepping in, she looked at him one last time.
"I don't believe you," she said gently. "You want to be more than what they made you. That's why you're angry."
"Eat a thousand dicks," Kikidori spat, flipping her off with both hands.
She sighed. "I'll see you again."
And then she vanished in gold.
Kikidori stood in the silence, watching the ants rebuild below.
And for just a moment… he felt a crack in his armor.
Not regret.
Just… a sliver of something he didn't like.
He crushed the cigarette underfoot.
"Stupid fucking angel."
The end of chapter 7.