The man stood amidst the ruins, his shirt torn and his disheveled yellow hair obscuring his vision. His white skin was smeared with dust and grime. Above, the sky burned a deep, ominous red, the color of freshly spilled blood.
Adam: "So, Lucifer... I suppose this is the final battle."
His opponent, Lucifer, was a vision of terrible beauty. His skin was pale as snow, a stark contrast to the hair as dark as midnight and the eyes that glowed like embers. From his back arched magnificent wings, their feathers the absolute black of a starless sky.
Lucifer: "You could say that, Adam. The culmination of all our... disagreements."
A pure, searing white aura ignited around Adam, encasing his body in a mantle of divine power.
Adam: "Then I hope you are ready to atone for your sins."
As he spoke, Adam's eyes began to shift, their irises transforming into a brilliant gold and morphing into the distinct shape of a brown cross. In the space of a blink, he vanished. The air cracked as he reappeared directly before Lucifer, driving a devastating kick toward his face. Lucifer's dark wings snapped forward, forming a formidable shield. The impact unleashed a cataclysmic shockwave that rippled outwards, reducing the surrounding buildings to dust and rubble.
On the roof of a distant, precarious skyscraper, two figures observed the devastation. Both were clad in impeccable black suits. One, Moses, stood leaning on an ornate staff, his brown eyes fixed on the horizon. The other, John, sat calmly in a simple chair, his gaze contemplative.
Moses: "You knew it would come to this, didn't you, John?"
John: "One can only ever avoid the present, Moses. The past and future are immutable truths."
Moses: "You and your cryptic words... So, who wins? The first angel, or the first man?"
John: "Honestly, I have no idea. The board has been reset; the pieces are not what they once were."
Moses: "Mmm. Oh well."
John: "Lust is already fighting her."
Moses: "Do you mean...?"
John: "Yes."
---
In another part of the shattered city, the demon Asmodeus was on her knees. One of her wings was severed, lying uselessly on the ground beside a dismembered arm. Her form—that of a woman with black hair, pink eyes, and pale skin—trembled with pure, undiluted fear.
Asmodeus: "You... monster!"
She stared up at the girl before her, who appeared no older than a teenager. The girl had eyes of piercing blue and hair the color of the summer sky. She wore a yellow raincoat, a simple rosary around her neck, and held a wooden staff. Her expression was one of chilling apathy.
Luce: "A rich accusation, coming from you."
Asmodeus: "I don't understand! How... how can the Holy Spirit itself be your soul? You're not even a living thing!"
Luce: "Nor is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. The Lord gave me life, and I, Luce, shall serve Him."
With a soft whisper of steel, she drew a slender blade from within her staff. A blinding white aura enveloped her, humming with immense power.
Luce: "So, Asmodeus... would you prefer to die in a male or female form? Given you have no true gender."
Asmodeus: "Does it even matter?"
Luce: "I suppose not."
The sword flashed. Asmodeus's head toppled from her shoulders, and a fountain of dark blood sprayed into the air. Before the head could hit the ground, her body began to crumble, dissolving into fine, gray ash. Luce smoothly sheathed her blade.
Luce: "I have bigger things to deal with. Eve."
Her cold blue eyes lifted, locking onto a figure standing atop a broken building. A woman with alabaster skin and long, golden hair that curtained her eyes smiled down at her. She wore a cream coat over a black top and jeans, her expression one of mocking amusement.
Eve: "My, my. Luce, the puppet. How you've grown."
Luce: "I did not expect to meet the Mother of All Living here."
Eve: "Now, now. There's no need for rudeness."
Luce: "My apologies if I seemed discourteous."
Not a trace of remorse was in her voice. Only a glacial, unwavering glare.