"Brothers!"
The heavy thunder of the baritone voice carried over the golden streets of the heavens calling all nephlim and angel to pause in their day to day travel.
"Sisters!"
Silence fell over the temples and churches as the archangel spoke to the masses his wisdom of the maker.
"Demons and spawn!"
The river of fire and her inhabitants went silent just as their mirrored brothers and sisters in the miasma of hell fire and smog filled caverns.
"The maker has spoken and his word is good my good people!" The voice belonged to an angel with arms spread wide before a double door gate of gold his sand and mahogany hair reflected from the deep engravings on the door front.
The masses of heaven and hell roared in rejoice as the the lord they had waited eons on spoke finally. the thunderous voices rose from hell into the clouds and the voices of the divine climbed and soared for the greater beyond. Praise and worship rose on high as those of the ethereal world cried out in joy.
The archangel grinned showing perfect teeth a shiny white against the dark bronze that was his skin. "The maker has given his blessing to us kin. The middle world no longer holds his graces." He brought his hands down before his chest as his voice boomed and arms spread wide to embrace all of his kin, "They have become disgusting fools, disregarding our lord and maker as they pillage, rape and slaughter one another. The maker has had enough!" He brought his arms down to his sides in thick balled fists, "The world is to be reset!"
Once more the roars and cries of joy thundered through the skies of divine and unholy alike. The negligence by their father over finally.
"Angra Mainyu!" The archangel once more lifted a single open palm to the expanse of sky before him, "You have been chosen by the maker, set out and fulfill his word on the realm of mortals. He entrusts you with the Juggernaut, the means your own. Make haste, Angra Mainyu, the maker has drawn short patience." The archangel blinked from reality at that moment in the thunder of voices.
From the clouds a speck of ink dropped toward the earth below it swirling as though smoke was trapped within the black glob. It had its' own ideals of what to do....
The heavy thunder of the baritone voice carried over the golden streets of the heavens calling all nephlim and angel to pause in their day to day travel.
"Sisters!"
Silence fell over the temples and churches as the archangel spoke to the masses his wisdom of the maker.
"Demons and spawn!"
The river of fire and her inhabitants went silent just as their mirrored brothers and sisters in the miasma of hell fire and smog filled caverns.
"The maker has spoken and his word is good my good people!" The voice belonged to an angel with arms spread wide before a double door gate of gold his sand and mahogany hair reflected from the deep engravings on the door front.
The masses of heaven and hell roared in rejoice as the the lord they had waited eons on spoke finally. the thunderous voices rose from hell into the clouds and the voices of the divine climbed and soared for the greater beyond. Praise and worship rose on high as those of the ethereal world cried out in joy.
The archangel grinned showing perfect teeth a shiny white against the dark bronze that was his skin. "The maker has given his blessing to us kin. The middle world no longer holds his graces." He brought his hands down before his chest as his voice boomed and arms spread wide to embrace all of his kin, "They have become disgusting fools, disregarding our lord and maker as they pillage, rape and slaughter one another. The maker has had enough!" He brought his arms down to his sides in thick balled fists, "The world is to be reset!"
Once more the roars and cries of joy thundered through the skies of divine and unholy alike. The negligence by their father over finally.
"Angra Mainyu!" The archangel once more lifted a single open palm to the expanse of sky before him, "You have been chosen by the maker, set out and fulfill his word on the realm of mortals. He entrusts you with the Juggernaut, the means your own. Make haste, Angra Mainyu, the maker has drawn short patience." The archangel blinked from reality at that moment in the thunder of voices.
From the clouds a speck of ink dropped toward the earth below it swirling as though smoke was trapped within the black glob. It had its' own ideals of what to do....