Page 130 of Legacy of Chaos

“He protected me. He protected all of us,” she said. “When he attacked that golden-haired bastard, he took Chaos’s orb.”

“So, he has it? Then why did he attack you?”

“He didn’t attack me,” she said. “He knew I was pregnant and needed me clear of the fight.” She tapped her belly, her eyes stinging at the momentousness of what was just now sinking in. “He gave me Chaos’s soul. It’s in me. It’s in the baby. He’s safe, Stryke. Chaos is okay.”

“He’s safe,” Stryke breathed. “I can’t...” He fell back on his ass, staring at her in stunned disbelief. She quickly crawled over to him.

“Listen to me, Stryke. Gabriel also said that Chaos’s death wasn’t your fault. Something about Primori. I didn’t understand that part. But he made it clear that Chaos was fated to die that day. There was nothing you could have done to stop it. Nothing.”

He still just stared, blinking, his brain processing. Gently, she reached up and tipped his face to hers.

“Did you hear me? It wasn’t your fault.”

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

His big body shuddered, and she wrapped herself around him, letting him release almost twenty years of trauma.

She held him so tightly she felt every breath, sob, and beat of his heart. Finally, he pulled back from her, his eyes bloodshot but the smile on his face lighting the room.

“I still can’t believe it.”

She looked down at her belly, reveling in a moment of joy after so much tragedy. “Chaos is getting a second chance.”

“So am I, Cyan,” Stryke rasped. “So am I.”

Chapter 32

Gabriel was in a lot of trouble.

Oh, he’d gotten out of the mess at StryTech thanks to Stryke’s anti-angel weapon that had exploded Matrius and Darniel’s organs and given them a touch of amnesia. Gabriel had only been spared the worst effects because he’d been able to summon his golden armor at the last millisecond. And because he’d been largely unaffected, he’d told the Angelic Council a story that made him a hero. He’d actuallysavedMatrius and Darniel from their own clusterfuck.

Sure, some doubted his story, but it was all they had. So, no, his trouble didn’t stem from that.

It came from a total sham of a trial, which Gabriel realized from the moment the Ordeal began in the Great Colosseum of Justice.

Most of the evidence against Gabriel was circumstantial at best, witch-trial-ridiculous at worst. One jackass, a Virtue named Furiel, claimed he had evidence that Gabriel helped Azagoth destroy Sheoul-gra. Theevidencewas that he’d once overheard Gabriel tell Reaver that Azagoth was right. Right aboutwhat, he couldn’t say. But it was enough that Gabriel agreed with Azagoth on anything, apparently. It was also convenient that Reaver was comatose and couldn’t dispute the account.

Joreem, a longtime friend of Gabriel’s, stood next to him in the center of the judicial process arena as they awaited the verdict, his curly black hair shining in the sunlight.

“It’s going to be a slap on the wrist,” Joreem murmured.

Gabriel noticed Joreem didn’t say, “They’ll find you innocent.”

“So, you believe I’m guilty?”

Joreem looked at him like he was an idiot. “Come on. You know you are. What I don’t know is why.” He held up his hand. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

Yeah, well, Gabriel hadn’t planned on it. Because sure, he’d helped Azagoth, but he hadn’t known the extent of the Grim Reaper’s plans. Gabriel thought the guy just wanted to break out of his prison.

But he definitely hadn’t known he would destroy the prison and release billions of souls back into the realms. It would have been the equivalent of Reaver destroying the human part of Heaven, sending all of them all back into their previous bodies and providing no place for the souls of the departed to go. Human spirits would drift aimlessly on the spirit plane, unable to find peace or be reborn into new bodies. No babies would be born, and chaos would reign.

“What kind of slap on the wrist do you think I’ll get?” he asked.

Joreem shrugged. “A century of soul-sorting, maybe? Or service in the Akashic Library. If they’re really mad at you, you’ll get stuck with counseling newly arrived souls.”

“So…torture. Mind-numbing, monotonous torture.” He shook his head. “Nah. I think they’re going to throw me down into the pits with my brethren.”

“They can’t keep all the Archangels locked down for much longer,” Joreem said in a low voice, even though no one was nearthem. The arena seats were packed, though. Gabriel had drawn quite the crowd. “People are starting to notice their absence.”

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