Kill. Kill. Kill.
Rip apart their flesh, break their bones, let their lungs fill with blood. For impure demons have no right to share the gifts of their deity. The world must be purged. Then humans will be safe. Then Heaven will be alright. Then Tapheos proved to be useful.
The Knife plunged into the being over and over. A demon that already had succumbed to the cold embrace of death. Their black blood splattered across the street, and all over the angel who was straddling it. The angel whose mechanical wings were surrounding them. Golden gears snapping, feathers twitching.
He had made sure that his presence was cloaked, for humans to not just happen upon this gruesome scene. And yet, as his thoughts spiralled, his awareness dropped more and more. Focused only on one goal: to make sure this demon does not come back.

















