Who is Like God

Michael notes his last experience here and Kage thinks of how this place looks like in its current state. For Michael, one time before. For Kage, hundreds of thousands of times before. He entered this palace like it was a second home for him during his time as a member of Lucifer's Crownsguard.

A crimson sigil hangs against the darkness like a brand burned into the void. Its shape resembles a stylized trident, though more elegant than ceremonial: a long central spike rises like a spearpoint, flanked by two curved prongs that arc upward like hooked claws. The lower half tapers into a sharp, angular flourish, giving the emblem the silhouette of both a weapon and a rune.

Kage knows this symbol, it's burned between his shoulders. The symbol of the insurrection he once used to wage war against Lucifer. He only dreamed of looking at it in this state, wielded like a warding sigil of what was sacrificed...and a warning to those who would stand against it. A reminder of the past and what was to come.

It was a reminder of the past all right for him. A reminder of loss, perhaps. Never has that been more apparent than when Kage's eyes fell on the closest shadowy silhouette.

Brejik.

Allow him to briefly regale you with the tragedy of progeny and sire. Denizens of the infernal realm have the ability to contract and sire human souls susceptible to corruption. It's usually an eternally hostile bond. Some demons sire hundreds, even thousands as though it's a competition with their kin. They don't particularly care for their progeny, enjoying their eternal torment and endless hatred for the one who initiated their new...corrupted state.

Kage has only ever sired three. And they're all here. Brejik stands closest. His first. The viking he bested and offered the chance of eternal and endless glory at the cost of his place in Valhalla. Myri, the geisha with one eye....and Marco, his advisor, the most recently sired from this century.

He can see the other two looming close.

They're all dead in his world. Lilith, Lucifer's first progeny saw to that. And he retaliated in kind. That was the turning point. She killed his progeny....so Kage, blinded by rage, took her life too. That...you can say started the cascade that ended in Kage losing the one who meant the most.

Seeing them here, alive, thriving under his regime should trigger something lamenting...something grieving and maybe even something proud, but Kage refuses to process grief into anything other than irritation and fury.

"Mind your distance, Brejik. I bested you in life, I can do so here too if you have such a desire to be humbled."

Brejik's answering scowl is nice. He thinks of Kage as an imposter, a liar, a foul and weaker copy. It's quite satisfying to know that he can still crawl under his skin. To Michael's intrusive thought, Kage looks him over once, gives a faint nod of...compromise.

I'm behaving, Michael. Appreciate that.

I did what I had to do.

"A lot of people down here say that."

Kage answers, amused. He's not unaware of what goes on between Brejik and his alternate self, but he's not concerned. Michael has always been the focal point, anything else is arbitrary.

He's watching all the sudden changes, the expression downturning slightly, the tone becoming more clipped, the way those wings seem to dip from their high crest. He's much too prideful to show more weakness than that even if it's what he feels.

This is purposeful. It's meant to hurt him, it's meant to worsen with prolonged exposure.

He hopes it does.

"You seem uncomfortable for someone who belongs here....arguably more than most others, Michael."

Kage shrugs though, let Michael deny this.

"We have a bit of a dilemma. You see...Lucifer is here. Safe. I met him before I met the two of you. We have a deal, him and I. No need to go over the details, but it's in his favor. I cannot allow harm....to come to him while he occupies this world...that includes...harm caused by those from his world."

Kage rests his arm on the armrest, lightly fingers drumming on his palm like he's in thought.

"I am more than willing to part ways with him, so long as blood is not shed. You can take your grievances back to your world. But if you move to strike here.....I will kill you both."

"Kage, you're looking at a glimpse of what your own regime may look like in the future, try not to be so hostile," said Michael, hoping what he said offered some form of comfort. He doubted anything would work for Kage while he was in that state, but trying never hurt. He turned back to the monarch, measuring the deal ... and finding himself a bit amused at what he revealed.

"You have a deal ... with your sworn enemy, no less ... to not allow harm to come to him. I wonder what the tradeoff was for you to enact that. It must be something quite grand for you to relinquish such ancient and preserving animosity. No need to pretend you're above it with the way you're talking to me, and I haven't even measured to half the harm Lucifer inflicted on you and demonkind," Michael remarked, lips slanted where he fought off some of the mockery from his smile.

Kage looks barely appeased by what Michael says. It’s because he knows, deep down that this isn’t always the case, that sentiment and tenure together are not enough. When something is easier, calmer, sometimes even more powerful and shown to be capable, of course it comes off as….appealing. He’s not blind to that.

And that is why this collision they’re on is inevitable, and he makes sure his thoughts, aware Michael can read them, are not tempered waves of one who has been talked out of irrational thought. Quite the opposite in fact.

But the word distracts him, as was expected.

Lucifer.

His chest rumbles with a growl he barely keeps from escaping clenched teeth. He’s said the one name that can shatter any distracting thought.

To his alternate self, he tries to speak without sounding barely discernible. Their eyes match the crimson hue that the King has taken on more permanently. Kage’s still only shift from green as such when provoked, an indication of humanity yet remaining.

Kage steps forward, squaring his shoulders to shake off Michael’s grip.

His words are a blatant, arrogant demand.

"Show me."

They are both interesting to say the least. This seems beyond mere alliance or fixation. He would never dream of Michael feeling the need to comfort someone, in his way against what appears to be….jealousy?

And the way they are outwardly fixated on their adversary is also….interesting. His own Michael does not behave this way. Kage flinches internally at even the idea of calling the Michael from this world his in any form though.

Their demands don’t quite fall on deaf ears though, Kage turns his back on them and it appears for a half a second he’s making his departure. But that’s not quite the case…The hideout begins to change, shift and take on a reddish tint. The ceiling expands to make way for the tall, familiar black pillars of the Imperial palace.

In their direct line of sight sits the throne and behind it is a high window that displays crudely plastered black wings. Always there to make mockery of a Lucifer who had failed to dispel a most bloody insurrection.

Most noticeably is how the air shifts, becomes congested with heat, the atmosphere dense with the feeling of fury, despair and pain. It comes from the many wayward souls that traverse this plane.

Kage approaches the throne to leisurely take his seat, blades forming a mocking red halo above his head. Shadows pull from between pillars. His Crownsguard, prepared to strike at the word.

"You’d be surprised at what your brother has confessed in this room, Michael. Your timeline is not without its obvious and apparent deviations already that I can glean. But most….intriguing perhaps….is you. War between Heaven and Hell on earth is catastrophic….but not surprising. "

Kage smiles down at him, expression mildly amused like he plans to wait for Michael to affirm or deny what he’s about to say.

Hell. Always a most unpleasant experience, which was saying something when Michael had only been here once before it was nearly a decade ago at this point. Still, the experience was memorable enough that it left a mark. It felt like the heat here was a second weight on his wings, that were he a weaker Celestial, he might buckle, complain or outright sink from its weight. This realm was built to repel his kind after all.

The curdling need to purify these souls with a righteous hand and shine of holy light was sitting among all of his greater instincts, but Michael had to remind himself that these creatures chose their path in life and that was why they were here now. Kage, no matter what form or version he was, was no different from the rest.

Hating this place so much made his tone bite when he realized Kage was still analyzing him. "My brother does not speak for me. The heavenly chain of command does not court weakness of spirit or hesitation. I did what I to do, whether my actions were frowned upon or outright despised ... were of no consequence."

Watching his Kage shake off his grip, Michael released him, but kept close vicinity. Through their bond, he was able to access his mind, get an idea of what he was thinking of doing or saying. It was important to do this before Kage just decided to act before what sometimes needed to be thoroughly considered. That was why it was imperative now to breach the inner workings and speak only where Kage could hear him.

His form of recoiling to the wayward touch is really just to snap his teeth at Michael and nearly miss his fingers with the gnash of canine, like he's reacting to an insect that decided to trail up a bead of sweat on his neck. The look he gives Michael is reproachful and haughty.

"What the hell is with you, huh, Michael? One minute - 'kill him. Another minute, 'let's run away.' Another....fucking minute....'let's try to talk it out'. Why don't you make up your mind before telling me what to do?"

Kage indicates himself, pounding himself on the chest with a closed fist.

"I'm at full mast here with my fucking sword out, not my dick, to be clear. Though this evening would be substantially more interesting if I did have my dick out....but anyway, I'm doing all this. All the fucking hard labor, getting thrown across the fucking room, getting insulted at every turn by this entitled, awful, truly awful imposter that's claiming we're the same person."

Kage slaps Michael in the shoulder to get his attention and indicate him now.

"And you. You're just standing there, flirting with him, playing with him. Telling him he looks good, staring at him all fucking....starry eyed when I'm standing right next to you. And I? I have had this amazing...fucking....fucking amazing...restraint here that I haven't even....I didn't even...I didn't even bring it up! Until right now! You're not even....you're not even appreciating that."

Kage devolves into a few mumbles afterward, still furious, a growling intonation in every word.

Kage just watches this for a brief moment before pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes falling shut as he summons patience from...somewhere deep in his soul. The moment of disillusionment is not lost on him. It's not every day you encounter yourself.

It's not every day you harbor increasing irritation with yourself in live form either.

"I appear to have forgotten....how insufferable I used to be."

Kage remarks, though hopefully he's not quite as much as this in more recent years.

To Michael, he dismisses the proposition.

"That is what is known as an empty threat. You're not going to kill yourself, him or me to prove a point. No. You understand the rules of the time gates. In order for the door to seal behind you....every denizen that came needs to go through....it just so happens..."

Kage adjusts himself more subtly, the arch of blades starting to flicker, as if the threat is lessened but not quite gone in case either of them decide to make a foolish decision.

Despite what Kage thought of him, Michael did listen, even when he was in this unreasonable state of mind and nearing incoherency. Peculiar that he was so fixated on Michael instead of seeing another version of himself walking a different path. Kage's attention span and priorities ... sure were something to marvel.

"Kage," Michael spoke softly, turning ever so slightly in his direction. They were close enough right now that Michael could creep a hand up his back and grip the back of his jacket and the back of his tank top just shy of where the straps began to form. He pulled him close then, eyebrow raised ... his expression all the indication needed for him to question Kage's words.

"Whatever comparison ... whatever conclusion you're forming in your head, it's the wrong one. There is no comparison," Michael reminded him, and he almost mentioned aloud that there was solace in knowing that even if his attention were divided, it would barely be considered a division when Michael's eyes were still on Kage at the end of the day.

Looking back at the monarch version, he squinted a bit, while gripping tighter on his Kage. Didn't he know his own trigger words? "Easy Kage."

He didn't even see that coming, just doubled over what was the wall between the living room and the kitchen, clutching his side. His forehead throbs and two fresh beads of red trickle down the side of his face.

And to Michael's point, he even does agree. This does seem more than they bargained for.

However. Let's not forget....who is being spoken to here.

"You're asking me.....to run away?"

It's missed entirely on him that Michael pays his other self a compliment. It's not him, so therefore irrelevant or perhaps he's too deaf to the fact that he's being pressed to be grateful for a statement that stands as obvious.

He places a hand flat on the ground and uses it to support staggering weight, spitting out blood off to the side and rolling his tongue across salty, coppery tasting teeth.

"I don't back down....from anything or anyone. "

His neck audibly cracks as Kage snaps it from side to side and he raises his weapon to indicate each part of what he's about to say.

"And....if I am to perish on this day...Let it be known....I'm taking something of yours with me. Whether it be....your eyeball....your wicked tongue....or whatever portion of your throat is sufficient to silence you forever."

Kage has good hearing, even now. He hears it all, and this....reaction is not surprising. Familiar in the sense of looking upon an ancient illustration or photograph of yourself and desiring nothing more for than it to be rid from your sight quickly.

Even now, he feels compelled to give warning toward this reckless....insipidly arrogant behavior.

"It's a waste of your life. It truly....pains me to know you do not hold value into yourself and misplace so much of energy into keeping your pride from being wounded."

The sword in his hand remains lowered before him, its tip angled toward the earth while both hands rest upon the hilt in a posture that borders reverence more than readiness. He does not raise the weapon, nor does he alter his stance further, yet something in the atmosphere tightens all the same, the faint sensation of pressure settling into the air around him like an unseen weight bearing down upon the space between them.

Behind Kage, the air begins to warp.

Steel gradually emerges from the distortion, one sword after another revealing itself in absolute silence until eight blades have formed a wide arching halo at his back. Their arrangement curves outward with unnatural precision around his figure, gleaming edges suspended in place while the ninth sword remains in his hands, grounded toward the floor exactly as before. The display does not feel theatrical, because the threat exists entirely in how effortlessly they appeared at all.

"I'm asking you to use the non-Neanderthal side of your brain, but apparently ... that is actually impossible," said Michael, resigned with a sigh while Kage stood up and approached his other half with his weapon drawn a second or third time. "Technically ... I can classify you as suicidal for wanting to kill an alternative version of yourself as vehemently as you do."

Watching this Kage pull out a weapon that only Lucifer had ever been seen with was a little jarring. He remembered when this sword was bequeathed to Lucifer, when his brother was deemed a living weapon same as Michael. To see Kage wearing it ... it wasn't as insulting as it would be for Lucifer, he imagined. It actually seemed to suit him well, despite Michael's internal effort to dislike him and everything he stood for and with.

"It suits you," Michael commented truthfully, then swiftly turned back to the norm. "Well ... I seem to have plateaued on paying you any respect. So whatever is you're doing ... trying to pinpoint your inadequacies onto me ... you can stop. It reeks of desperation, Your Majesty. I did not spend the last ten years tolerating my Kage for you to try to talk him into seeing some incorrect and misguided perception you have. You see I'm actually trying to help him. I actually told him not to fight you. But, you know yourself, Kage."

Coming back next to his Kage, he reached for his neck, knuckles lining up his skin in a way that he knew would cause a recoil. "You're sometimes an idiot. You always have to prove yourself. To me, to others. Always. It's the most annoying habit you have. You have to prove that you're not weak. Even if it means that you die a most unfortunate ... and ironic death at the hands of your own self in another form."

"Now, I'm talking you, Kage," said Michael to his version. "Obviously, I'm not going to let you kill yourself. You're way out of your depth, and most unfortunately for you and your pride, I can't let you die like this. Regardless of how Spartan you are. So, let's not be stupid. Let's be big boys, right sweetheart? And let's try to fucking talk this out."

He's impulsive at the best of times, but certainly not stupid. Kage looks at Michael with a withering sort of look, wondering if he just wants to see "something happen" for the sake of entertaining himself as he often does, of if he's serious.

Sometimes it's both. This time, it appears to be both.

"All right."

He doesn't even argue it, but there is some hesitance, a twitch in his wrist where he reaches back for his weapon. He's not sure where it's coming from, for himself or what he's about to do. But to be fair, he did tell Michael once that he only has one goal, one thing he wants to accomplish and anything standing in their way is an obstacle that he would rip away without question.

Seems an obstacle can even be himself.

"I think when you let your ego speak before you do, it's harder to conclude what is factual."

Kage replies, and his eyes convey a bit of a warning toward his other self, an infinitesimal shake of his head that's almost imperceptible to the human eye, but he knows Kage will catch it.

Because he would.

"Very impressive. Do you play fetch and chase your tail on Michael's command too?"

That earns a snarl and his other self advances, brandishing his weapon high. Kage catches him in a viper's grip, palm flat against his mouth and fingers pressing in to the indents of his cheek bones that he can break so easily with enough pressure. Words are muffled, sound is not, and he sounds furious. Kage holds him there, but it's not quite far enough to stop him from making a stupid move like trying to strike with his sword.

"Michael may not be a Fallen, but he plays you so easily...and you just stand there....and let him. Don't be so needlessly careless about your own life. This is your war too, not his stage performance."

"You-"

"I'm being much nicer to you than I should be."

Kage pushes him backwards, but for all the force that's visible, he may as well have thrown the other one across the room, the way he collides into the wall and crumbles it with the force of his body.

Kage's attention remains on Michael, even while he had been speaking, he never took his eyes off Michael not once.

Michael just observed as Kage — his version — got taunted once and thrown across the room as though he weighed less than a feather. He could feel the cold stare of that ... monarch staring a hole into his cheek and normally he would pay him no heed or mind and allow for a lower infernal life form to gaze upon a celestial entity for as long as needed to pledge to absolve their wicked ways.

"Would you excuse me for a moment ... ?" Michael asked, politer than he meant to be given this Kage was holding nothing back in terms of scathing and judgmental commentary. He didn't really wait to be excused, just shot Kage a slanted smile as he moved toward his Kage, collapsed against the wall.

Oh, he doesn't like this. Not one bit. Of course he's aware of what Michael is doing and it makes his jaw tighten, eyes narrow in a shrewd sort of way, slight baring of teeth before he turns his face away entirely.

No, he won't interrupt or put a halt to it, but his approval is subjective at best.

"Fucking..."

Kage mutters, leaves it at that, sheathing his sword on his back because it's probable that a weapon won't be necessary in this negotiation which is such a shame. Easier for him to cut down his other self in act of rage or pride or sought renown than watch Michael play this game.

His own returning stare conveys he wishes for him to move through this quickly. Like ripping the bandaid off.

He's silent for a moment, pulled back from Michael as the words are weighed between them.

"You have a lot of nerve to stand on a pedestal about acts of desperation when you are supplying aid to someone who should be capable of disposing his problems without you."

His other self glares, opens his mouth, prepares a swear that Kage deflects and talks over before it can be heard.

"Don't bother. You disappoint me the more I uncover. You should know better. The enemy of your enemy is still your enemy. You kill them both. No exceptions."

Back to Michael now.

See now, Kage. Why did you have to say that in front of him? Now he'd definitely shift any disposition that was remotely moving toward humouring you. "Do I look like ... a Fallen to you? A being that dwells in the underbelly of Hell in regret ... wishing I hadn't been enraptured by that sweet song that only Lucifer could produce."

Michael paused to gauge whether he had hit a sensitive subject, whether speaking the name of the predecessor was something this Kage would rule as forbidden. His reaction is inconsequential to Michael, just another hole to thread a needle through if he felt inclined to.

"I am ... divinity," Michael went on, entire being shrouded in blinding golden light before the arch of wings with sword like feathers pulled from his back. "That you think I would debase myself into making a deal with a Spartan ... whom I am more than familiar with. I know what you look like when you're angry, Kage. I know what you look like when you're in pain. I know what you look like when you're particularly .. impatient."

Michael glanced to his left at his Kage as if to say he was a case in point for that last aspect. However, Michael wasn't done. " ... and I definitely know what you look when you're bluffing ... and lying. You're doing that now ... and that is insulting. So insulting that I feel the need to end this conversation. So insulting that ... I may be committing a rare act of love ... and giving my Kage what he wants."