[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/251019/ac7349d66f06b3d89dea15f015869ee0.png[/img][/center][hr][hr][h2][b][i][center]Present Day[/center][/i][/b][/h2][hr][hr]

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[sub][color=959595]Red Light District |T H E  C R I M S O N  H A L O || SERAPH’S END[/color][/sub][hr][indent][indent][indent][justify][h3][sup][sup][i]”And back to our top story tonight, it looks like Gunther’s Isle, the famous maximum security prison situated in the middle of Seraph’s Bay, has been shuttered for good. Authorities say the prison, which was host to Seraph’s End first ever angel attack six months ago, was always scheduled to be closed and the shuttering has nothing do with the brief invasion at all. Authorities also tell us that despite reports to the contrary, all prisoners were accounted for and have been transferred to other state prisons via the proper channels…

…Yeah John, all prisoners have been accounted for and the joint cooperation with the National Guard has now come to an end. You’ll remember it was the National Guard that repelled the angels during that invasion six months ago and they’ve been on standby helping with the cleanup process ever since. It was their victory that has given the world over its first taste of hope since these unfortunate attacks began…”[/i][/sup][/sup][/h3][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent]

[h3][sup][sup]Angels. Demons. Same shit, different day. Except today they decided to top it off with lies.

Jaheim swallowed the cold thought alongside his cold brew as he set the bottle back onto the bar top, index finger and thumb curled around the tall, thin neck. Dark umber eyes gazed daggers into the matching bottle before shifting up to the tv and finally back down to the bar top. His mind raced, but he put the brake on his thoughts as he settled back into the awe of his original wonderment. He was alive. Alive enough to be sitting in a bar casually drinking. Angel attacks were commonplace in the rest of the world, but Seraph’s End had become something of a safe haven against them. Nobody knew what it was that kept the angels away, but they hadn’t bothered with the city until six months ago. Even then, they’d only targeted the prison. Jaheim sighed and leaned his forearms on the bar top. 

He did his best not to acknowledge the space around him. It was quite lively for the evening. The Crimson Halo was one of the more popular bars—and nightclubs—in Seraph’s End and it was definitely number one in its district. It was packed wall to wall this night, bodies scooping up every available space around. The booths were full, the tables were full, and the dance floor off to the side was full as well, music blaring from overhead speakers and leaking out from the dance floor throughout the rest of the building at various levels of volume. Jaheim sipped another pull from his bottle and set it back down. The channel on the television had been changed from the news back to some sports game. He sighed again. 

Most everyone in the club seemed to be oblivious to the fact that the city had just survived an angel attack. They partied their sorrows away and drowned their doubts in drink. Not that Jaheim could judge of course, considering his current state. But it was different. He [i]couldn’t[/i] forget what happened. It was different from when he was growing up. Growing up during this celestial war had been hard. He remembered the slain bodies slumped over and the demons feasting on flesh as he’d sneak by to get home or to school. He remembered the police and the military cooperating to fight pockets of invasion, but it never turned out well. For every being they slaughtered, it seemed like the monsters slayed a group of them. It was wildly imbalanced. But six months ago was different. The angels attacked, but… 

Jaheim snapped back to reality. He took another swig before spinning around his bar stool and leaning his back against the bar top. He scanned the crowds in front of and on both sides of him. There were too many people clumped together to recognize specific faces, but he tried anyway. The others had to be around somewhere. They had come to the bar together, after all. Only they could understand his feelings. Only they could understand the sheer shock of it all. They had been there with him during that time. They had been right by his side. Strangers to each other, but bonded over a common abnormality. Jaheim stared down at his palm. He stared at the lines etched into the palm and concentrated. It took a full minute, but he started to feel the buzz and it wasn’t from his drink. It was a small hum in his hand, a buzz in the air around his palm that gathered air and densely packed it into a single point just above his fingers. Then it started to come into fruition. 

Translucent lines formed the shape and body of the object currently in Jaheim’s mind. As he concentrated more lines joined the fray and took shape and form like a printer tracing lines to create a document ordered to print. Finally, the lines formed the object and it began to fill itself with color and material and weight. After two solid minutes, the object fell into Jaheim’s palm and he gripped it instinctually. It was nothing but a pocket knife that he unfolded, staring at the blade, and then refolded. It had a black grip and was small enough that when he wrapped his fingers around it it was almost completely overtaken. He breathed in and out in disbelief. Six months ago wasn’t a dream after all. It had been real and here was the proof. He’d just created this pocket knife out of thin air and everyone in the bar was too busy to notice. 

With the same concentration he’d used to create it, Jaheim sentenced the pocket knife to a pocket dimension and it disappeared in an instant. Much quicker than it took to form. He sat in awe for a second before swiveling back around and taking another swig from his bottle. It was that kind of a night at the end of the day. And he was getting better. In the six months after the attack, he’d tried his hand at recapturing the feeling he’d felt during that certain moment. That time when all hope seemed lost and he’d become just another victim. It had taken time and he’d failed plenty, but once he’d grasped the feeling for a second time he’d held onto that memory and he had slowly been getting better ever since. 

Jaheim finished off his bottle in one long draw and set it back down before standing up from the bar stool. He left a bill on the bar top and looked around. He still couldn’t make out any specific faces, but he was done cradling his thoughts. He needed to talk about it with someone. Not just anyone. One of [i]them[/i]. The ones who had been there right beside manifesting their own weird abilities. It would do no good to drink and think the entire night. He needed some perspective. Especially given their new circumstances. This was their last night as free individuals, after all. The National Guard, the angels, Tom Gunther… It had been made clear that they were going to be watched and harassed should they decline to show up to the meeting area tomorrow. Just like that, they had become government assets and they were to report in to hear about “next steps”. 

So Jaheim ventured into the crowds, pocketed his hands, and went on the hunt. He figured he would run into one or all of them if he looked around enough. The place was big, but only just so. There were still four walls. They had to be somewhere within the building and they were probably going their own mental crises at the moment. Jaheim had no idea, but he imagined it would feel better if they could share their thoughts with one another. That, he figured, was the least he could do after sharing a battlefield with them.[/sup][/sup][/h3]
[hr][hr][center][h3][b][i]Six Months Prior. . .[/i][/b][/h3][/center][hr][hr]

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[sub][color=959595]Gunther’s Isle | M A X I M U M  S E C U R I T Y  P R I S O N || SERAPH’S BAY[/color][/sub][hr][h3][sup][sup][color=red][i]”Heed my words, mortal…”[/i][/color]

A pounding headache. 

It wasn’t uncommon in prison. Prison food was shit and full of sodium so it wasn’t exactly earth shattering to have a headache. What made it worse was that in prison you couldn’t just go grab a bottle of pills, pop one or two, and wait fifteen minutes for relief. You had to deal with the headache and all the annoyance that came along with it. The strain and the throb and the agony that followed closely in a headache’s footsteps. As Jaheim slowly regained consciousness and his bearings began to return to him, the pounding headache was the first thing he could discern. 

He struggled to remember what had happened. The headache was doing its job, but it was also grogginess like he had been sleep for hours. The next thing that he could discern was the wail of an alarm. It was faint and only growing in volume as his awakened state grew more full, but it was loud enough to be annoying and his headache seemed to feed off of it. The feeling of his body was the next thing Jaheim started to be able to discern. He was shocked to realize he was lying on the ground. The memories were covered in haze, but he started to remember. He had been in his cell when it all happened. An explosion. Destruction. And Jaheim being blown away and sprawled across the ground. He finally opened his eyes to the scene around him. 

Rubble and broken concrete was sprinkled everywhere. The darkened sky hung above replacing what used to be a roof. Some cell doors were open, others were simply blown apart and stray bars littered the cracked and broken linoleum floor. The alarm, covering everything in a slowly flashing red glare, continued to go off and now that Jaheim was fully awake it was loud and obnoxious about it. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and looked around, rubbing the back of his head. Orange jump-suited inmates ran by back and forth and guards chased in both directions. Chased or were running away themselves, Jaheim couldn’t decide which. He only knew what now stole his attention away high in the sky. He could see the figures, but he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

Black, feathered wings outstretched from an ebony armored body, helmets seemingly concealing their faces, and swords, spears, and axes clutched in their metallic hands. There were too many of them to count as they filled the night sky, hovering above in a formation that seemed to be observing the goings on below. Moonlight glinted off their armor and highlighted them in twisted shadows as they hovered and moved ever so slightly from left to right and right to left. Jaheim just stared in disbelief. He was reverted back to his inner child. The fear he’d felt during the demon invasion. The betrayal he’d felt when the angels turn on humanity. The anger he’d felt when his father was brutally slayed by them. He furrowed his brow and hobbled to his feet. This was it. This was another moment of revenge. All the memories came flooding back. 

The memories of his training in the US army. The memories of his various tours fighting pockets of invasion on different continents in different countries. These weren’t unfamiliar forms to him. He suddenly remembered they all looked the same. All wore the same armor. All had the same outstretched black wings, feathers pronounced and sometimes fluttering away as the wings beat in the air to keep them adrift. He knew what could pierce their armor by now. And as he turned to sprint away to the left, the angels swooped down and into the prison. Jaheim ran at full speed. He ran through open gates, destroyed walkways, and crumbling hallways. All the while prison inmates and guards were being slaughtered around him. It was as if the angels were ignoring him for the moment as they went after everyone else.

[color=red][i]”Heed my words, mortal…!”[/i][/color]

Jaheim stopped just outside the armory. The headache was back and it had returned with a vengeance. It throbbed so hard it froze him in place. The screams of slain guards and inmates filled his eardrums as he stood in place, clutching his forehead and tightly holding his eyes closed. He grit his teeth and tried his best to bear it as he reopened his eyes and stumbled into the armory. He looked around in brief disappointment at empty shelves and rifle racks. Everything had been picked clean already. He questioned how long he’d been out, but also knew he didn’t have time to worry about that at the moment. The headache buzzed again and this time was followed by nausea and muscle pain. Jaheim shut the door behind him before he slumped to the ground against the doorframe. 

[color=red][i]”Vengeance is what you seek… Survive, mortal. Survive!”[/i][/color]

When he opened his eyes, Jaheim suddenly felt the heft of a rifle in his arms. He looked down and was cradling an M4A1 carbine. He popped the magazine out instinctually and checked the ammo count. It was full and held one in the chamber. He popped the magazine back in and pulled back the charging slide. He was locked and loaded. And confused. Had he missed a rifle? He heard more screams and bangs outside the door which brought him back to reality. No time for wondering at the moment. He stood up and righted his grip on the rifle. The headache subsided and Jaheim pulled the door open and ran out of the armory into a large opening in the middle of destroyed cells. What he saw blew his mind. There were three other orange jump-suited inmates, but they weren’t like any other human he’d seen. They were standing there, in the middle of a sea of angels, somehow holding them back. Two of them didn’t have weapons at all, but one seemed to [i]be[/i] a weapon. His body contorted and shifted and morphed into various forms to combat the angelic threat. The other two were holding their own as well, but with abilities Jaheim couldn’t recognize with his naked eye. 

At that sight, he shook his head and ran towards the group. He put the rifle up to his shoulder and cheek and began firing away at angels in the air. He watched as bullets ripped through their armor and one by one they fell from the sky and to the ground, lifeless. He fired and jogged forward in sync until he was within the group of what he could only label as super-powered inmates. He’d be sure to ask them about what they were doing later, but for now, he continued firing away as more angels swept down from the sky and into the prison.[/sup][/sup][/h3]