8. Matilda
8
MATILDA
The euphoria is short-lived as the chamber ceiling shatters completely. Through the cascade of falling debris, a disturbing golden light pierces the rainbow magick. Vazna descends, his wings spread wide, flanked by dozens of other celestial beings.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter through gritted teeth, still absorbing the Praxian force. “Heaven’s cleanup crew.”
“Stand down, Matilda,” Vazna commands, his voice resonating with divine authority. “You don’t understand what you’ve unleashed.”
Behind him, I spot Laurent among the angelic host, her expression unreadable. Something about her presence here doesn’t feel right. She’s too calm, too prepared for this chaos.
“I understand plenty,” I snarl back, feeling Chaos’s claws dig deeper into my shoulder. The Praxian force surges again, but this time, it feels different. More controlled. “You’re the ones who don’t understand. ”
The angels spread out around us, forming their own circle outside of ours. Their golden light clashes with the rainbow power, creating sparks where they meet.
“The stars,” Laurent calls out. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”
“Some of it,” I admit, watching her carefully. “They weren’t just chaos entities. They were fallen stars, corrupted celestial beings.”
“Very good.” Vazna smiles. “And now you’re absorbing their power. Do you really think Heaven can allow that?”
“Heaven can kiss my arse,” I reply as another wave of power courses through me. “This isn’t about what Heaven wants.”
The Praxian force roars its agreement with its rainbow light glowing brighter. Above us, more fallen stars pour in through the broken ceiling.
“Vazna,” Laurent says quietly. “It’s time.”
The Angel raises his hands. Golden light erupts from his palms, crystallising into chains that whip toward me with deadly intent.
“Oh, you just made a dick move, Angel!” Vex launches forward, his power exploding outward in a wave of pure black force that collides with the chains. The impact sends a shock through the chamber.
Draven’s death magick writhes to life, wrapping around the golden restraints and yanking them off course. “You want her?” he snarls, darkness bleeding into his eyes. “You go through us first.”
“All of us.” Luc’s demonic energy flares, his eyes blazing crimson as Hellfire erupts around his hands. The infernal flames leap toward the celestial bonds, making the holy metal sizzle and warp. “Heaven’s not taking her anywhere.”
My boys form a triangle around me, their different powers weaving together into something new and fierce. The protective circle is formidable with their determination to keep me safe.
I cast a glance at Blackthorn and Xavier. Blackthorn is desperately trying to stabilise the structure around us with more than a little help from the Horseman of Pestilence. Their efforts, after the Angels bust through the ceiling, are the only thing keeping this chamber from collapsing completely, bringing MistHallow down with it.
“Step aside,” Vazna commands, his wings flaring with divine light. “This is beyond your authority.”
“Fuck your authority,” Vex spits, power crackling around him like lightning. “You have none here.”
The chamber erupts into chaos as Vazna launches forward, his golden wings becoming weapons of light. Vex meets him head-on, raw power condensing around his fists as he trades blows with the angel. Each impact sounds like thunder, sending shock waves through the ancient stone. His runes flash bright blue, the forbidden ones protecting him from this Angelic onslaught.
“Little boys playing at being heroes,” Vazna taunts, spinning to avoid Vex’s next strike.
“Heroes?” Draven’s laugh is cold as the grave. The temperature plummets as he crouches and places his hands on the chamber floor. It cracks like thunder. Skeletal hands burst through the ancient stone, grabbing at celestial ankles. “You forget which side we’re on, fuckface.”
The dead rise at his command, and I shiver as I stand there with Chaos on my shoulder, still absorbing the entire Praxian force. Centuries of forgotten bones knit together, filling the chamber with the sound of clicking teeth and scraping bone. His eyes turn pitch black as his death magick raises the dead.
Luc takes the opportunity to blast the Angels with Hellfire orbs that sizzle when they hit, and the stench of burning feathers fills the air. His attacks are precise, calculated. Each burst of infernal flame is aimed to separate Vazna from his reinforcements. The Angel hisses as Hellfire scorches his wings.
“Your flames can’t harm me, halfbreed,” Vazna sneers, though the pain in his voice betrays him.
“Halfbreed?” he snarls as the corpse of a long-dead priest lurches up behind Vazna, its bony fingers wrapping around the Angel’s wings. “I’ll give you halfbreed. Half bred from the Devil, you sanctimonious fuck!” He shifts to his enhanced Demon form, and Vazna’s eyes narrow.
Vex uses the distraction to land a solid hit, his power-enhanced punch catching Vazna in the jaw. The angel staggers back, golden blood spattering the stones. Vex looks like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself, and I smile.
The other Angels lunge forward, but they’re fighting on two fronts now—the living and the dead. Each lesser Angel they strike down, Draven raises again, turning Heaven’s own soldiers against them. His necromantic power grows darker with each resurrection, the air thick with the stench of grave dirt and decay.
“That’s right,” Draven snarls as another wave of the undead joins the fight. “I can do this all fucking day. Raising your slain is a new kink for me, Angel. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”
I snort in amusement as Blackthorn huffs in exasperation as he and Xavier struggle to maintain the stability of the construction.
Vazna hisses and launches an attack on Draven, but his army gets in the way, and Vazna can’t get near him. He is herded towards Luc, who slams his clawed fist into the Angel’s face.
The Praxian force lashes through me stronger with each passing second, drawing energy from the guys’ fierce protection. Rainbow light weaves through their attacks. Vex’s power now streaked with prismatic energy, Draven’s undead glowing with unholy iridescence, Luc’s Hellfire taking on impossible colours.
But something shifts in the air, in the fabric of reality around us.
The gateway to Hell is free from the curse.