For William Augustus I, today was supposed to be a pleasant day.
As the retired founder of the Loen Kingdom, William I, a Sequence 1 Hand of Order, rarely had pressing matters to attend to. After all, few things in this world warranted the personal attention of an angel like him. Lately, the only matters of concern were the Loen royal family's cooperation with the Demoness Sect and their interactions with the Aurora Order.
These were tied to George III's apotheosis ritual to become the Black Emperor, arguably the Augustus family's most critical endeavor in recent years.
If George III succeeded, it would mean the Augustus family could break free from the Seven Gods' control, becoming one of the true rulers of the world and increasing their chances of surviving the apocalypse.
If the war against the Feysac Empire went smoothly, William I, as a Hand of Order, might even advance further... the uniqueness of the Arbiter Pathway lay with the Feysac Empire's Church of the God of War.
So, despite knowing that the Loen royal family's actions, if exposed, would provoke the wrath of the three major churches, William I had tacitly approved and even pushed for them.
The Augustus family needed a Sequence 0. They had to survive the apocalypse.
As for the humans who would die as a result... what did an angel like William I care for such ants?
"Hm?" While enjoying his afternoon tea, William I looked up in a certain direction, suddenly stunned.
He saw someone who should be long dead, someone who had fallen centuries ago.
... The Red Angel, Medici.
Indeed, until today, Medici had never directly met with the Augustus family, delegating all contact to others.
"Should I say 'long time no see'?" The War Angel emerged from the shadows, looking down at William I from above. His tone was casual, almost friendly, but his body language was utterly dismissive, as if the Hand of Order before him was beneath notice.
"…Lord Medici, it's been a while." William I said, eyeing the War Angel warily. The more he observed, the more alarmed he felt, because this War Angel seemed real.
But how could that be? Medici had long since fallen. Even if he were revived, reclaiming the Red Priest's uniqueness without a trace was impossible… William I's mind raced with possibilities, but he kept his expression neutral. "May I ask what brings you here so suddenly?"
"What for? I thought you'd know." The War Angel scoffed, glancing at William I before looking away, as if surveying the Augustus palace. Unnoticed by others, a flicker of disorientation passed through his eyes.
For the War Angel, today was a day full of cosmic irony. One moment he closed his eyes, and the next, he was thrust over a thousand years into the future. He met a future version of himself... broken and weakened... and learned that soon, he'd die a miserable death, becoming fodder for Tudor's ascension to Red Priest, with Adam, of all people, aiding in his demise.
Worse still, he discovered Adam wasn't Adam but a divine avatar of the Lord.
Truth be told, the War Angel was still reeling. He wanted to dismiss it all as a shoddy illusion, a scheme to sow discord, but everything he encountered screamed reality... this was the future, and everything his future self had told him was true.
But how could this be?
The War Angel couldn't wrap his head around it. He couldn't fathom how the Lord's firstborn son had become a divine avatar, nor why the Lord would choose such a path.
His future self had mentioned possibilities... like being corrupted by the City of Calamity, destined to become a harbinger of war if he reached Sequence 0... but that didn't resolve his confusion.
His doubt wasn't about the Lord stopping him from becoming Sequence 0. What baffled him was why the Lord hadn't told him the truth about his identity. If the Lord had simply explained, the War Angel would have willingly abandoned his pursuit of Red Priest!
The War Angel was ambitious, yes, but becoming Sequence 0 wasn't a necessity.
If there was a compelling reason to step back... for the Lord, or to avoid further corruption... he wouldn't hesitate to abandon the pursuit of Sequence 0, even temporarily relinquishing the uniqueness and Sequence 1 characteristic.
Then it dawned on him: the Lord hadn't told him because He didn't trust him.
Adam didn't believe Medici would give up becoming the Red Priest out of loyalty or some laughable love for the world.
Realizing this, the War Angel felt a sudden urge to laugh. He curled his lips into a mocking smile. "Heh! What a joke." It wasn't clear who he was mocking.
"…What?" William I, still pondering whether this War Angel was real, looked at him in confusion.
"Isn't it laughable? That hesitant, wishy-washy look of yours." The War Angel said, his smile growing more sardonic as he met William's gaze. "Let me guess what you're thinking. You're doubting, hesitating, questioning my authenticity because the War Angel you remember is dead."
"…I do have doubts about your presence." William I admitted after a moment's hesitation, not fully denying it. "According to my information, you did indeed fall. Of course, I don't mean to question your authenticity... I'm merely curious how…"
"Enough! All that talk just means you doubt my existence." The War Angel cut him off abruptly, a reckless grin spreading across his face as he stared at the Hand of Order. "If you want to know whether I'm the real War Angel, let's settle it with a fight."
"What?" William I's pupils constricted. "Wait... "
But before he could finish, the War Angel had already made his move.
Flames engulfed the area in an instant.
Meanwhile, in a pocket dimension crafted by Mr. Door...
Alaric and Medici were casually watching the show, munching on metaphorical popcorn. Bernadette, of course, wasn't there; she'd been sent back earlier.
"Honestly, your past self has quite the temper!" Alaric commented, observing the two angels already clashing in the projection.
***
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