The two watchers lay smoldering on the ground, their bodies burned beyond recognition but still twitching—clinging to life. Angelo walked over calmly, his expression unreadable. With a small, deliberate gesture—a flick of his fingers—he summoned a wave of heat. Fire roared to life, engulfing the twisted husks until nothing but ash remained.
Around the city, the rest of the soldiers were executing the plan flawlessly. Watchers, lured by well-placed diversions and bait units, were corralled toward the designated kill zone. The trap was springing into place.
As the creatures entered the zone, Angelo stepped forward and raised his hand. The ground shuddered, then cracked open as enormous stone walls erupted skyward, trapping the watchers inside. From above, fuel rained down from hoses and tanks manned by soldiers on high ground. The scent of gasoline filled the air.
"Light it up," Hale's voice echoed through the radio.
Flames rushed in, licking at the walls and dancing over the monstrous forms trapped within. The watchers shrieked, an inhuman wail of fury and pain, echoing through the city. Angelo sealed the top of the cage with a final twist of his wrist, locking them in with the fire.
Everyone thought it was over.
But one of the watchers had slipped through.
It burst from the shadows, ambushing a young soldier at the perimeter. Before anyone could react, the creature grabbed him and hoisted him off the ground, using his body as a living shield.
"Don't worry about me!" the soldier shouted over the comms. "Just kill this motherfucker!"
Angelo heard the voice crackling through his earpiece. Without hesitation, he narrowed his eyes and surveyed the battlefield. A stone pillar erupted from the ground beneath him, raising him above the rooftops. From that height, he spotted the watcher holding the struggling soldier—who was kicking, screaming, even shooting his sidearm directly into the beast's head.
The creature shrieked in frustration, opening its mouth wide as it prepared to devour the soldier.
Angelo's mind raced. Too far for fire. Too risky for a wall.
Then he thought of something else.
With a snap of his fingers, a spear materialized in his hand. Slim. Dense. Balanced. Not meant to pierce armor, but to hit with deadly accuracy. He gripped it tight, focused, then hurled it.
The spear sliced through the air with a faint whistle and struck the watcher directly in the face. A crunch echoed through the street as the creature dropped the soldier with a howl of pain. The man scrambled to safety.
But the watcher wasn't done.
Snarling, it turned and bolted—running from the one who had wounded it.
Angelo jumped down from the pillar, landing with a heavy thud. He gave chase without a word, no wasted movement, just pure intent. Each step closed the distance, the earth cracking faintly beneath his feet with every stride.
Then, from above, something descended like a meteor.
A blinding light. A flash of silver.
A spear of radiance plunged from the sky, impaling the watcher clean through. It convulsed once, then fell limp. The unnatural glow from the spear sealed the creature's wounds, stopping its regeneration completely. Where before its flesh had begun to stitch itself together, now it remained frozen in death.
Angelo skidded to a halt, eyes narrowing. The light faded, and there—hovering just above the ground—was a figure in glowing robes, halo faint behind its head, a serene but cold expression on its face.
An angel.
And it had just taken his kill.
The angel hovered above the ruined street, its radiant wings spread wide and glowing with a golden light that shimmered in the haze of smoke and fire. Its voice echoed through the devastated city, calm and resonant like a hymn drifting from a cathedral.
"Do not be afraid of me," it declared. "I am here to help you all."
For a moment, a stunned silence fell over the soldiers. Even the ones holding their weapons hesitated.
Angelo's eyes narrowed. He remembered what the two parts of him had whispered days before—the warnings about the angels. Cold, cunning, and cloaked in divine illusion. He raised his radio and barked, "Everyone, don't listen to that thing! It's just like the others. Worse."
The angel's gaze flicked to Angelo, and its voice turned sharp. "Do not listen to this monster in human skin. He is the reason these grotesque creatures have come. He is the cause of your suffering. Of your loss."
The words rang out, not just with sound—but with power. Subtle, layered tones wormed into the minds of the soldiers, like a chant beneath the surface. Confusion rippled through the ranks. Some soldiers staggered as if dazed, blinking and looking to Angelo as if seeing him for the first time. Others lowered their weapons entirely, their faces slack with awe.
The angel's smile curled, like a predator savoring the disarray it caused. Its tone softened. "You have seen the horrors that this being brings. The pain. The death. I am here to end it."
Angelo's pulse quickened. The words were not just spoken; they were woven with subtle magic that toyed with the soldiers' minds. They were being manipulated, twisted into seeing Angelo as the true monster. Some now looked at him with suspicion, some with fear, as if their loyalty was already wavering.
A few still resisted, clutching their guns tighter, gritting their teeth. But they were few.
Hale's voice came through the comms, urgent and cutting through the fog like a razor. "It's trying to brainwash you! Don't listen to its voice. Plug your ears, shut it out! Angelo—shut it up. Now!"
"With pleasure," Angelo muttered, drawing his sidearm.
He aimed and fired. The shots rang out like cracks of thunder—but they stopped just shy of the angel, as if they'd struck an invisible barrier. Sparks flickered in the air where the bullets made contact with nothing.
The angel let out a long, disappointed sigh. "What a nuisance. I had hoped to enslave you all peacefully. But I suppose it can't be helped."
As the final word left its mouth, the sky shimmered.
And then—they appeared.
Dozens of them.
The clouds parted like torn silk, and shafts of golden light rained down across the city. Each beam carried a figure—wings outstretched, armor gleaming like polished ivory, faces unreadable and inhuman. The angels descended silently, their eyes empty and glowing with holy fire.
The street fell into chaos. Soldiers shouted in fear, scrambling into cover. Some knelt and began to pray. Others just froze, their minds unraveling from the sheer presence of so many divine entities.
From the city to the base, everyone saw it. The colonel's fists clenched in the command center as he stared at the surveillance feeds.
Grant, deep in the lab, stared in silence at his monitors. The data streams from Angelo's camera were going wild. He muttered under his breath, "This… this isn't what we prepared for."
The battle had only just begun—but now, it was no longer just about the watchers.
It had become a war between man, monsters, and something far more terrifying.
Something divine.