Raphael had transformed into his True Angelic Incarnation, a form only Virtues like he and Gabriel could attain. This was the first transformation Gabriel had seen other than himself; Raphael was his first target from the moment Eden had been abandoned.
This is his True Angelic Incarnation that our Lords spoke about. A state only a Virtue can attain. You really are worthy to be my greatest foe, Raphael; let our dance set the precedent for what the world will know as War, Gabriel thought with a dastardly smile.
Raphael had parried his attack and diced him across the chest so quickly that the wounds had yet to seep into Gabriel's flesh. Gabriel's mind was slow in processing what happened; Only after being blasted back with a wave of blood jetting out in the opposite direction did he realize the jeopardy he was in.
Raphael followed his prey with relentless determination, lighting the world in Zadkiel's glow as Nakir danced with a light so bright that it overshadowed the brightness of the sun.
Gabriel did everything in his power to defend against such a force of nature. But each time, in rhythmic succession with the scale and tone of the melodies, Raphael hacked and cleaved some part of Gabriel into chunks with a flash.
First was Gabriel's ear that flew off into the ether of the atmosphere, burned away into ash by the intensity of the light that came from the edge of Nakir.
Next was his arm that he used to hold his shield, blasting him back with force capable of shaking the universe.
Second by second, the tides of the fight were turning in Raphael's favour.
His cries of war were mixed with the sorrow of the malice he was forced to commit against a friend he thought would be his forever.
The music of this battle paints the display of two lovers forced to kill each other.
Gabriel's body was mangled, mangy, and misshapen. He began to fall out of the sky from one of the many concussive blows that Raphael had given him.
He thought back to what had brought him to this point and why the Most High had created this war. He never truly thought about such a thing, until his demise was moments away—he was a servant of his Gods through and through.
If I die here, I would rather be that I went out on my own terms, taking my foe down with me! I am Gabriel, the favourite of the Gods! I know who I am. I will show them my undying servitude, so that they know I am the truly rightful heir to the perfection of Paradioso—of Eden! Gabriel thought.
He snapped himself from his spiral to defeat, just as Raphael had been about to put the finishing touches on his masterpiece of death.
"You aren't the only one with that form, you recusant! I will show you why I am the one that deserves all of creation at my footstool!" Gabriel clambered, just as Nakir neared his torso to cut him in twain.
Sigils of protection boxed his form, stretching out and pushing Raphael away. He had disrupted the synchronicity of his movements and his part of the song. Gabriel gave himself over to the power that Raphael wielded as well, his form bare-chested with insignias scrawled on his torso.
A wreath was placed atop his head made of soul ivory, with garments flowing out ever longer, his six wings even longer than those of Raphael. His jewellery glistened in the day's radiance, completing his elegance with a new arm made of light magic that re-summoned his shield to his side.
"This ends here and now, no matter what! You are no longer a friend of mine, Raphael. You are simply another enemy for me to slay in their name!" Gabriel yowled, his words meshing with the divination song strung behind them.
"Then try if you wish!" Raphael cried in return.
The two raced across the sky, distorting the world around them with shockwaves of disaster that tore colour from reality. A fight between the two strongest Virtues to ever exist in Paradioso's history was sure to make an entertaining sight to the Most High that sat overhead.
The Son watched with excitement and giddiness, like a schoolboy discovering his passion, while the Spirit watched like an intrigued spectator with much knowledge of a sport.
The Father, however, watched on in disgrace, horrified by what was taking place in front of him. Unfortunately, he was unable to do anything about the matter. He was left to sit there in disgust, wishing for the scene to be done and over with.
As the ending drew near, the battle had yet to choose its victor. When the smoke and mirrors of the angelic might were over, both the combatants' bodies were stripped of any remembrance of their former beauty.
Each had bones protruding from every orifice; blood leaking from them like multiple pipes had broken in the homes that were bodies.
Raphael charged forward. Gabriel reciprocated the gesture.
Death called both their names—but unfortunately for Raphael, his time of fighting was expedited in its ending.
Nakir slipped free of his hand, his body giving out on him. Zadkiel's glow waned in the palm of his hand as Gabriel slipped his spear into his gut once more with a sickening level of force.
Gabriel unearthed the last amounts of oxygen, blood, and resilience left within Raphael's lungs. But Gabriel, not finished yet in his efforts, ripped his spear out of his gut. He snatched Raphael by the collar of his bloodied suit that made him look like a pallbearer of blood.
Gabriel waited for the music to reach a somber peak. He was about to commit the worst act in this entire feud.
"You—even if you were valiant—are unfit to be an angel," Gabriel muttered with what little breath he had himself.
Using his spear, Gabriel sawed at Raphael's wings, clipping him of his angelhood with a rasp! for each wing.
It was the final act of disrespect for ever opposing the favourite of the Gods in his mind.
This was the final thought Raphael would get to think:
Veronica, I am so sorry for my weakness…Please, raise Michael and Michaela well, in the way they should grow to be able to live in this world. I am so sorry I won't be there to protect them—and you—from the monsters that have been created.
"Now, fall, my forgotten friend," he said, before cutting Raphael's head from his mangled body.
He released it from his grasp to drift down to the clouds and possibly the earth hidden beneath them.
Gabriel stood there in silence, running back over the atrocity and acts of disrespect he had committed. He thought nothing of what he had done was wrong—it was something that needed to be done.
Everyone was the same under the covenant of blood that was signed into existence. Friend or not, all that was the former.
He didn't show reverence to the fallen honourable warrior, only a sickening smile of pride that denoted a lack of care for those who would be affected by the actions he had committed. His goal was to get back what he believed he had lost—all others in his way, friend or not, could be damned.
His victory had an ever-sweeter taste in his mouth that sang praises for the victory blessed upon him by his lords. He would never forget this day—the day when he finally knew his purpose, and he loved it just like Lucifer.