Page 131 of Legacy of Chaos

Suddenly, the buzz in the colosseum hushed, and thirty-six red-robed justices, the Angelic High Court, filed in, taking their places standing on a crystal lens that rose into the air. It hovered above the arena so they looked down upon Gabriel.

Next to them, but separated by a few feet, Metatron stood in regal blue robes, his head bowed, his hands bound by a Ligorial.

The First Justice, Tsadkiel, stepped forward. “Gabriel, Celestial of the Archangel Order. We have reached our verdict.” He paused, and in the heavy silence, Gabriel could hear his pulse in his ears. “We do find that you aided in the destruction of Sheoul-gra. We do pronounce you guilty of treason.”

Treason?

The crowd exploded all around him. Some cheers, some boos, and a lot of shocked gasps.

Joreem shot him a stunned look, surely matching Gabriel’s. Treason was a strong word, associated with only the most heinous of Heavenly crimes.

“Gabriel, have you anything to say?”

Oh, yeah, he had a lot to say. But Joreem jabbed him in the side, cautioning him against telling these bastards what he really thought.

“Just that you’re wrong,” he said in a powerful voice that resonated through the justice facility. “I believed in Azagoth’s mission to help maintain a balance of good and evil souls between the human and demon realms. And I shared his opinion that he hadn’t been treated fairly by Heaven. But I did not knowingly assist him in destroying Sheoul-gra.”

“Noted.” Tsadkiel inhaled deeply and addressed the crowd. “Gabriel has served Heaven as one of the Creator’s most treasured, most trusted sons. His accomplishments over the millennia take up endless rows of tomes in the Akashic Library.He is a beloved, prominent figure in human lore and tales. We must carefully consider punishment, balancing his worth with his actions.”

“Don’t worry,” Joreem whispered under his breath. “They can’t do much to you.”

No, they couldn’t. Heck, this humiliation was far worse than whatever punishment they would come up with.

“So,” Tsadkiel continued, “for the grave offense of treason against Heaven, we sentence you, Gabriel of the Archangel Order, to expulsion.”

Expulsion?!

“No!” he yelled. “No, this is—”

Armed guards surrounded him, shoving Joreem away and grabbing Gabriel by all four limbs.

“Your wings will be torn from your body,” he said as Gabriel struggled against the guards, “and you will be hurled into the human realm, where you will live as a pathetic Unfallen angel with few powers and little hope of redemption.”

“No!” he screamed as they dragged him toward the platform where his wings would be torn—not even sliced!—from his shoulders.

“Or,” the guy continued, “enter Sheoul and become an irredeemable True Fallen and turn your back on Heaven forever. So it shall be.”

“So it shall be,” all the justices intoned, their command falling with the finality of a guillotine blade in the silent colosseum.

Agony like Gabriel had never known ripped through him, shredding his body, his muscles, his very soul. Blades dug deep into his back as his attackers sought his wing anchors. He felt their fingers clawing, felt the blood streaming down his back and flank.

He screamed, gurgling blood as his bones snapped, his wings twisted and wrenched by powerful hands. They held his arms and legs so he was spread-eagle and then pulled as if he were to be drawn and quartered. He screamed into the ground as his right wing separated from his body. Then his left.

And then there was nothing but darkness.

Chapter 33

Stryke had survived a lot of hazardous situations in his life. And while he was confident he’d survive this one, there was still a risk of bloodshed.

He stood in the kitchen that used to be empty and sad when he lived here. Now, the compound on the outskirts of Sydney, where he’d first developed StryTech, belonged to his brothers, and they’d filled the living quarters with life.

And food. They had a lot of food in this place. At least one of them bought pints of cookie dough ice cream by the case.

“They’re all inside,” Cyan said, peeking in from the living room. She looked amazing in strappy red sandals and a red-and-green sundress. Perfect for a Christmas Eve get-together. The first family event he’d been to in years.

“Even Blade?”

“Even Blade. And I put Masumi’s vase on the bookshelf. You ready?”

---