In the epoch when the Earth was still damp with the dew of creation, the Watchers—the Seraphim's forward guard—taught humanity the rhythm of survival. Under their guidance, tiny, sprawling settlements hardened into kingdoms, and kingdoms swelled into empires.
Now, within the shadowed palace that served as their terrestrial fortress, a figure moved with lethal grace.
Sariel.
She walked toward the center of the vast, echoing chamber. A cowl of deep scarlet hid her features, but not the terrifying, incandescent red of her eyes. Around her, the gathered Watchers—hardened, immortal warriors—recoiled, a palpable wave of fear washing through their ranks.
"No greeting for my return, my Guardians?" Sariel's voice was a low chord, vibrating with lethal power.
She reached up, slowly pulling the fabric from her face. Her perfect features were unveiled, framed by the fiery glow of her eyes. A chilling, deliberate smile touched her lips, and the Watchers staggered back further.
An angel named Hector, his face pale beneath the harsh light, quickly broke the paralyzed silence, dropping into a deep bow.
"Archangel Sariel," Hector murmured, his voice strained. "Welcome back to the world. Forgive our lack of welcome; your arrival was… unexpected. Rest assured, the Guardians and the mortals are in good standing. You have nothing to fear."
"I know everything that transpires on this plane," Sariel countered, her smile vanishing. "Especially the things you have been doing. I have a mission to execute. First, I must restore the balance between the created beings and the mortals. Second, I must return order to the ranks of the Guardians here on Earth."
A second man, Remiel, rushed forward, his long hair swinging as he too bowed low, a forced urgency in his posture.
"Sister," Remiel began, though the term felt brittle. "I did not expect you so soon. Forgive the shortcomings of the Guardians, but we are—we were—in the process of rectifying them."
Sariel's gaze swept over the gathered angels. "What I see are guardians living lives of ease and plenty. There is no scar of battle with the Outcast, no sign of the righteous struggle we sent you for. Tell me, Remiel. What exactly have you been doing while I was in the higher sphere?"
Remiel and Hector exchanged a quick, panicked glance, both speechless beneath the weight of her scrutiny.
The tense standoff was shattered by a flash of movement. Two small children, shrieking with delighted laughter, darted into the room, chasing each other. An immortal woman rushed in after them, scooping the children into her arms, her face etched with terror.
Sariel's eyes narrowed, fixing on the little ones. "I smell the blood of a Watcher on them. I see that you have prized your own blood, the progeny of beautiful, forbidden unions with the Creator's fragile designs. Tell me, do these ties of kin hold more value to you than your celestial duty?"
Suddenly, Remiel snapped. He lunged, drawing a concealed weapon and pointing it at Sariel.
But before the first spark could fly, a host of strange warriors, cloaked and silent, materialized from the shadows of the room, their weapons leveled instantly at the Watchers. Hector gasped and shrank back, scrambling behind a stone pillar.
"Do not touch the children, Sariel!" Remiel snarled, his voice thick with fury and desperation. "If any harm comes to them, I swear I will burn you alive and send you back to the void you crawled from!"
Sariel ignored him. She advanced toward the woman and the terrified children clutched in her arms. She reached out her left hand, and the simple leather cuff she wore shimmered, transforming into the intricate, brilliant Chains of Guardians. It pulsed with a cold, star-like glow. The children, momentarily forgetting their fear, stared at the artifact in bewildered awe.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Sariel asked, her voice soft, dangerously maternal. "It looks as though it was spun from the heavens, carrying a thousand captured stars. And it has a wonderful power, too. It can turn anyone who dares to touch it into mere stone, and then into fine dust."
The mortal mother pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "Please, don't hurt them! Have mercy!"
"I wouldn't dream of harming them," Sariel whispered. "But my bracelet might."
The two children, mesmerized, reached out and simultaneously touched the shining, perfect chains.
A flash of searing light. The children were instantly transmuted to cold, grey stone.
The mother's scream was a raw, primal sound of agony. Remiel roared in rage, but Sariel's shadowed warriors had already brought him to his knees, a blade pressed against his throat.
"You will pay for this, Sariel!" Remiel choked out, tears of impotent rage blurring his vision. "I curse you! I will torment you and your faithful lackeys! I will not stop until you are eradicated from this world!"
Sariel looked down at him, indifferent. "I shall await that day, Remiel. For now, I have a mess to clean up—a mess made by you and your loyal friend."
Remiel looked over at Hector, still trembling behind the pillar, his cowardice sealing their fate. The kneeling Watchers could only listen to the terrible, muffled screams that erupted outside the chamber doors—the sound of their own families being slaughtered by Sariel's advancing troops. Remiel wept, helpless, as the slaughter began.
"You will pay for this, Sariel! I swear it!"
Sariel now stood amidst the wreckage—the stony effigies of the children, and the bloodied corpses of the Watchers who had resisted. Her warriors removed their own dark cowls, revealing the faces of the loyalists.
"Imprison Remiel's followers," Sariel commanded. "I will create a fitting cage for those who forgot their sacred duty. This palace is now the stronghold of the true Guardians. Every new warrior who arrives must face me. I will not tolerate the weak or the fearful, like those who came before."
A wave of laughter rippled through her ranks.
"Herus," she continued, turning to a grim-faced man. "Ascertain if any other mortal blood kin of Remiel's men survive. Leave no trace."
"Red," she ordered another. "Bring me the cowards who fled their posts."
Herus and Red bowed low. "As you command, Sariel."
"And what of Hector and Remiel?" Red asked.
"They will be given a chance to atone, but they must first be punished," Sariel decided. "Fifty lashes apiece."
"As you command, Sariel."
The warriors dispersed. Sariel sat down on a stone bench, watching the ashes of the transmuted children catch the faint draft, carried away on the air like dust.
Days later, the full weight of her campaign was revealed. A hundred souls—Guardians and their mortal families—were kneeling before her, weeping.
"The world is beautiful, and to live in it is a wondrous thing," Sariel began, her voice detached. "But I cannot comprehend why you sought a mortal life. Mortals crave immortality, yet you craved mortality. This union was forbidden. You loved mortals, and you bred children with them. The two distinct creations of the Almighty were never meant to mingle."
A male Guardian defied her. "We will not agree! We have lived in peace here! Why must we return to endless war? Our duty is done. Let us and our families remain!"
"Your actions violate our sacred laws," Sariel retorted. "You loved mortals and produced progeny. This was forbidden since the dawn of time!"
Another Guardian pleaded, "Let us be, Sariel. Surely He will forgive us, for we loved, and we did no malice on this earth."
Sariel looked at the small children huddled and embraced by their mothers. She rose to her feet.
"I will spare your offspring," she announced. "But you must return to the heavens. They will remain here to be trained and will become warriors in my service."
The united refusal was instantaneous.
"We do not agree!" a mother cried out. "Do our children have no right to a normal life? They were not born to become your soldiers!"
"Return to your celestial sphere!" the first Guardian shouted. "We will not submit to your demands! We will fight you!"
Chaos erupted. Sariel's shadow-warriors emerged from the darkness, their presence silencing the mob. Remiel and Hector, both bloody and broken from the flogging, were lowered on ropes from the ceiling. Sariel and Remiel locked eyes across the chamber.
"Your time on Earth has made you incapable of submitting to higher authority," Sariel stated, her voice echoing with finality. "From this day forward, only my warriors may pass judgment on any Guardian. My loyalty is your only source of death. And whether you wish it or not, your children, and their children, will serve as my warriors for generations to come!"
She stroked the Chains of Guardians on her wrist, then etched strange, glowing symbols into the air above her. The air pulsed, and a red banner materialized, covered in the celestial writing.
"This is the law that every being who steps upon this Earth must obey. No one is higher than my warriors, save for me. I alone may punish them, and they alone may punish you. Remember this: every violation of these laws carries a penalty, and proven guilt carries the punishment of death."
Sariel stomped her foot on the ground. The floor rippled, and the bodies of the Guardians who had openly defied her began to turn to stone.
"Take the children. Kill the mortals."
Remiel watched the cold execution, tears streaming down his face as his hatred for Sariel swelled into an absolute, volcanic resolve.
Sariel stared blankly at the ashes and blood staining the floor. Red appeared from the darkness, seeing where her gaze was fixed.
"Caius and I found more in a nearby kingdom," Red reported quietly. "Some were fleeing to distant lands, but Herus has intercepted them and is bringing them back now."
Sariel did not speak, her eyes still vacant.
"I know you did not wish for this violence," Red said, his voice gentle. "But you must fulfill your mission here. It will be finished in only a few more days."
"I don't know if I can find joy in this mission," Sariel finally whispered, tears tracing clean paths through the grime on her cheeks. "So many lives lost, so many tears shed, and only loathing reflected in every face I meet. I am death to the Guardians, and I know that is how the generations to come will see me, too. I do what is necessary, yet I have become the villain, the heartless destroyer."
"Red," she continued, looking up, her resolve hardening through the pain. "When I leave this world, I will entrust pieces of my weapon to you. Certain of you will receive fragments to aid you in your duties, especially against the Outcast."
Red's eyes widened. "But it is too powerful! It will surely corrupt them, and they will use it for evil. I cannot let you do this, Sariel."
"I cannot stop it," she confessed. "This is part of the reason I was commanded to descend. It is His will that I leave fragments behind. I will conceal the core weapon with my body. You, Red, are the most fit to guard my physical form here on Earth. You must protect it, or I will never be able to return."
"As you command, Sariel. I will do what you wish."
"Thank you, Red. But do not let my brother, nor his devoted warrior, come near it. I have never trusted them, yet they, too, are meant to receive a piece of the weapon."
"What does the Almighty intend?" Red asked, confused. "Why entrust pieces of your power to those you distrust?"
"I believe He is testing their loyalty," Sariel surmised. "To see if they are worthy to remain among His warriors."
Sariel snapped her fingers. The blood and ash vanished, and the room was instantly clean, the lamps blazing bright.
"Train every one of these offspring. The ancient Watchers must return to the heavens. Every being on Earth must obey the law I have created. When this is done, summon me again."
Sariel vanished into the darkness. Red turned, noticing Caius standing behind a door.
"Why were you eavesdropping on Sariel and me, Caius?"
"I only heard her final words," Caius admitted. "That law she made… is there truly no escaping it? Must we all obey?"
Red sighed, meeting his gaze. "You know the answer. Her word is the law for us Guardians who remain here. You have not yet seen the full power of a Seraphim, Caius."
In a dark cell, Remiel's wounds were healing, but his mind was fixed on the sight of the young warriors training outside. Herus materialized, a blade in his hand.
"You did not fight Sariel," Herus observed. "And now the blood of your precious offspring is dust. Sariel's plan is flawless; the Guardians are now orderly and stable."
"All I want is for her to be erased from my path," Remiel hissed, his eyes blazing. "I want vengeance for those I loved. I will not stop until she is dead!"
"You have your chance to fulfill that wish, Remiel."
"And why should I believe you?" Remiel sneered. "You are one of her loyalists. You are death, just like her!"
"I wish I could fight Sariel, but I cannot. My loyalty is bound, and she can punish me with humiliating ease; that was my mistake, long ago," Herus explained, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Sariel is a Seraphim of immense power, and she wields a weapon unmatched by any angel. You seek vengeance, and I seek freedom from her service. We share a common enemy. What say you? Shall we help one another?"
Herus smiled, watching the rage and calculation ignite in Remiel's eyes.
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