After school, during their trip, Zeke explained everything that had happened the night before to Ugo. They still had their backpacks on.

They took a bus and walked just a few miles.

Dark clouds huddled overhead, blocking out the sun entirely and teasing a merciless rainstorm. Zeke wanted to hit himself for not having an umbrella prepared. At least he brought his cotton sweater to fend off the nippy weather. The faded afternoon had a soft breeze that coupled with the brininess of the sea and the sound of the wooden decking creaking stubbornly with every step they took.

“Oh, he is definitely going back to the guidance counselor regularly after that shenanigan,” Ugo said, with his hands settled in the pockets of his striped hooded sweatshirt.

“How did he do that, though?” Zeke asked.

Ugo shrugged. “It was a good trick, and he said he was double-jointed or whatever. He made it look real.”

“I mean, well, sure, it makes sense. He wasn’t screaming or showing the slightest sign of pain when he was doing it.”

“Now, can you just leave it be for once instead of obsessing over it for weeks?”

“I’ll try...” Zeke stopped to think for a moment and then snapped, “Wait! Why did you change the subject? Vee! We were talking about Vee!”

“Knock it off,” Ugo said, “you didn’t see Vee, mano. Look, I miss her, too.”

“This is not something I imagined. Mom’s apple tower was undone in the morning.”

Ugo proffered a puzzled look.

“Gah, I left that part out. It makes sense in context. Look, she grabbed an apple from the tower and ate it. That’s why it had already collapsed in the morning.”

“No, you ate an apple and then fell asleep. End of story.”

“Do you really think I have the imagination capacity to make up all those rules about magic, the Thirteenth Generation, and about the angels?”

“Why not? You consume tons of media on subjects like that.”

“Why are you not even going to give me the benefit of doubt? It would explain what you did back at the hospital. The knife-thing. How are you not freaking out about it?”

Ugo raised his hand and looked down at it. “Yeah… that was pretty weird.”

“It was really weird!” Zeke grunted and looked away.

They were already in the building's presence.

They halted and gazed upon the giant bricked structure. The hole in the mossy roof left by Naomi’s crash landing was apparent. Now, in the afternoon, Zeke could point out the growth of tall bronzy grass balled up to the side of the building and piles of debris littered at its feet.

The broken arched eyes of the structure glared down at them. At the center, Zeke noticed a moving dot slowly increasing. His legs buckled under him as a blessing sensation conjured in his chest.

It was a man clad in a purple parka coat over a black shirt.

He was treading towards them with a bag dangling from his clenched hand. The man moved with purpose as his plum tie fluttered in the wind. As he got closer, Zeke’s legs buckled again, complaining as his chest joined in. It became tight as if his lungs were being pressed against each other, but simultaneously; it was a soothing, satisfactory discomfort, and familiar.

“You two,” the man said. He raised the bag in his hand. “Are either of you the owner of this?”

Zeke’s eyes widened when he noticed the swaying, peeled-off blue skin of the bag.

It was his doctor’s bag.

The man squinted. Lips straight and narrow. Shivering and sweating profusely. “You were here last night. Weren’t you?”

Zeke trembled all over and then a shaky, icy hand stung his shoulder blade. He turned to Ugo.

“We don’t speak English!” Ugo said in an over-the-top Mexican tone that you’d see in an old racist cartoon. Ugo clutched Zeke by his sweater and turned back. “Have a nice day, Sir!” he continued in Spanish.

“Then, we may speak in Spanish,” the man replied in perfect Spanish.

Ugo froze and slowly turned back with a defeated look on his face. He switched back to English. “Okay, what the hell, why does everyone know Spanish now?” He sighed. “You can’t even badmouth strangers in public behind their backs anymore. It’s no fun.”

The man strangled the handles of the bag tighter and hissed, “This property is abandoned, and yet, you two are strolling along here.”

Zeke realized that the man must’ve been here for hours, waiting for the owner to wander back to the locale, like a moron. The bizarre, warm feeling in his chest expanded. He fought back an urge to drop to his knees and bow his head.

“There is no use in lying. I can…” The man’s face went vacant. He lowered the bag, eyeing them, befuddled. “I can’t sense you,” he said, “your minds are blocked.” He hushed all together and studied them. The gentle wind and cracking floorboards filled in the silence.

The cold of the brisk wind circled the outline of Zeke’s ear and was breaching through his sleeves; biting into his skin. All he could focus on was the cold and the joyfully haunting sensation multiplying inside his body. The line between fear and jubilance became blurred. Zeke let out a soft gasp, realizing what he was feeling. Similar to what he felt with Naomi. This wasn’t a man standing before them.

It was an angel.

The angel put on a hostile expression again,e eyeing Zeke. “I’ve met you before… why did I forget?” He bared his teeth. “You’re of the Fourteenth Generation,” he affirmed. “Both of you.”

Zeke gulped so quickly, his throat hurt, and he shook all over. He looked over at a paralyzed Ugo. He probably had already realized the holy truth himself.

“Where is she?” the angel asked.

Zeke and Ugo failed to respond.

“Where are you keeping her? Her trail of presence leads me here and then… vanishes. She was here. What kind of spell did you use?” The divine being glowered at the two, waiting for an answer. “Answer me!” he shouted. “Where is she?”

The decking hissed. Cracks sprawled from under the angel’s feet, pieces of the deck broke and splashed into the sea.

The empyrean presence wasn’t going to settle for anything other than the direct answer: Naomi’s location. It dropped the doctor’s bag. Zeke’s mouth slowly cranked open, the vibrations crawled up his throat painfully as his eyes welled with tears. He wanted to give the answer, but then remembered Naomi mentioning a cage.

The angel zipped to Ugo and lifted him up by the throat. “I let my guard down with you heathens! It cost me the souls of my brethren, I will have to repent for millennia.”

Ugo choked as he tried to speak, thick slobber oozed from both corners of his mouth. His face twisted in pain. More splits and cracks straggled from where the angel stood.

Zeke gave out a little whimper. The angel swiveled his head to him. Its manic, glowing eyes dipped into his soul. Zeke’s knees gave out, and he dropped. He pushed his hands against the creaking, plashy wood and lowered his head. “Please, stop,” he begged. He daringly tilted his head up and witnessed the angel’s pure white wings sprout from its back. Feathers voluminous like a cloud, pointy tips protruded to the side, easily sharper than any bladed instrument that Zeke could think of. Downies shed from the bottom half of the wings, sprinkling the cracking deck like snow.

Ugo gave out a cry. Zeke looked back at him and then noticed his hands attempting to make a gesture. “Mora, no!” Zeke shouted.

The angel’s vigorous eyes fixed back on Ugo.

“Rutapexy…” Ugo drawled.

The angel clenched its jaw and tossed Ugo aside. He caromed off the building’s wall and plummeted to the decking on his side. Ugo stopped moving.

“Mora!” Zeke shouted from the top of his lungs, damaging his voice. He stood up, tears cascading his cheeks. He went after Ugo but only managed one step. Something grappled his ankle, and then his forehead banged against the wood.

The world was flipped upside down.

Zeke was staring at a pair of white lace-up sneakers. He heard wings flap, and then they elevated off the decking. He was floating just a few feet up, and forced his eyes down and saw the heavenly entity glowering down at him, a massive pressure pressed onto his ankle; Zeke screamed.

“This will be the last time I ask, heathen.”

Zeke decided it was time to pull himself out of the parlous situation. He gulped and started, “Naomi is…”

That’s as far as he got.

Bang.

Zeke fell and plonked his head on the decking. He dropped on his back and the angel squawked in pain as it moved in the air, flapping its wings frantically. Feathers were flying off it in every direction.

Watching it made Zeke dizzy, and he looked in another direction.

Violet stood proudly, armed with a long rifle in a firing position.

She smiled back at him, making him wonder how hard he hit his head. The angel slammed itself into the decking. Zeke sat up and looked back at it as it groaned and spotted a fiery hole at the end of its left wing. He turned back to Violet and took notice of the mastery of her stance.

She kept the weight of her body and rifle vertically over her feet, forcing her muscles to hold her balance. Her head erect in an upright position, one eye closed, the handgrip of the gun rested steadily in her hand and her other hand on the pistol grip with the butt of the rifle pressed firmly into her shoulder. Left foot slightly twisted forward, legs relaxed, and hip toward the target.

“Picking on boys who don’t have the slightest clue on how to use magic?” Violet said. “You angels really are scum.”

She was sporting a gray T-shirt, black shorts, sneakers, a checkered shirt tied around the waist, and a large canvas messenger satchel. Zeke went crazy thinking over how she kept from shivering in the breezy weather walking around like that.

The angel sniped a glare at Violet. “You’re another heathen.” It raised its head slowly. “Another member of the Tainted Generation.”

Violet dropped to a seated position. With her legs crossed, she rested her elbows on each knee, balancing the rifle in her hands easily.

She fired.

It sounded like a firecracker going off. A fiery flurry blossomed out of the muzzle. Punching another blazing hole through the upper part of its wing. More white, angelic feathers blessed the decking.

The angel writhed and let out a piercing cry. It screamed indecipherable words.

“I’m the Second Born of the Fourteenth Tainted Generation,” she said solemnly, with a wicked smile smeared across her face. “Nice to meet you.” Violet stood up and walked to Zeke, carrying the rifle in her arms diagonally with the muzzle pointed at the decking. “Ola, Rulitos,” she said.

Zeke gazed up at her, speechless, and then his eyes moved to survey the long rifle; demonic sigils tattooed it up and down. The bloody lower jaw of a furry beast bounded to the bottom of the barrel with bloodstained, tattered swathes.

Violet reached out and grabbed Zeke by the collar. She pulled him up and then pushed him back.

While stumbling backward, Zeke watched Violet make a myriad of hand signs with just one hand too quickly for his brain to register each one, and by the time he fell on his back, a purple dome formed around him.

Violet stared at him from outside the see-through barrier. “Try to take as many mental notes as you can, okay, Rulitos?” She said with the angel screaming in agony in the background.

Zeke ran toward the barrier and bounced back. It was like a wall made of titanium. Zeke cupped his nose and hissed, hoping he didn’t break it. All he could do was watch. There was no wind inside the barrier.

Violet stretched the gun to her side and dropped it. It quivered silently.

She removed her satchel and placed it down. Violet kneeled, pulled out an amber round glass medicine bottle from the satchel, twisted the cap, and chugged it down till the last drop. She brushed her arm across her mouth and stifled a cough.

“Do you know what I hit you with, Señor Angel?” She jeered as she took out a dark blue apple from her satchel.

“Those were Hellfire Bullets,” the angel answered. He studied the gun that twitched slightly on the decking. “Where did you get your hands on that... abomination?”

Now, on her third bite, she muffled, “I’ve got friends in low places.” She grabbed a handful of feathers off the decking. “For goodwill, they gifted me with this adorable Chimera.” She looked over to it and said, “Ongrakas is his name.”

The rifle convulsed, and the swathes unwrapped, rising to the air in a mesmerizing, flowing motion. In the blink of an eye, it transformed into the upper skull of a monster. It was flat and wide, angular at the tip. The spade-shaped head became covered in green meat and then prickly strands of black fur grew exponentially until it covered the entire head. A long, stocky body stretched from behind the head, swallowing the rest of the rifle.

The butt of the rifle extended, coiled into a rattle, and then black fur swept across the body and grew steadily.

Zeke looked back at the angel and it was struggling to get back on its feet, forced to watch the monster’s transformation.

The aberration closed its mouth with the muzzle of the rifle jutting out from the center. Violet extended a handful of angelic feathers to it. A slender black tongue slipped out of the muzzle, swirled around the feathers, and pulled it through its mouth hole. It convulsed again, making excited coos as scaly, stumpy arms and legs sprouted out from its side. The creature pushed itself up, using all of its newly grown limbs, and doubled in size.

“He loves angel feathers. Composed of so much yummy, concentrated purity.”

The angel made a quick hand gesture, and its wings dissipated in a heavenly flash. It stood up and glowered at an undaunted Violet.

The creature belched, and a slobbery flintlock ejected from its mouth. Violet picked it up with her bare freehand and examined it. It was covered in sigils and a small, furry lower jaw attached to the bottom of the gun with bloody swathes.

The angel made another quick hand gesture and summoned its holy weapon. A terrifying long, white blade extending from a yellow-winged hilt appeared in its hand. The angel got into position. It bent its knees and hoisted the sword by the hilt with one hand, keeping it horizontal, and put its other hand under the snowy blade, aiming the point at Violet.

Violet pointed the gun back at it as she continued to chomp on the apple, raising it with her other hand. “Do you want to go first or should I?” she asked.

“You’re young. Do you understand the gravity of using Netherworld Weaponry to retaliate against an angel?” the angel asked. “You willingly chose to not be on the side of light?”

“I’m on humanity’s side,” she said.

She fired.

A black bullet whizzed across the air, the angel swung its sword accordingly, and the bullet bounced away. Violet unleashed rapid-fire, pulling the trigger without jerking her arm. She withstood the powerful blasts from the gun, keeping her body sturdy.

Zeke covered his ears and watched the bullets ricochet off the angel’s blade with every one of its precise swings. A bulletstorm polluted the air. Tiny black dots spun and danced across his vision. He flinched when a couple came his way, but then they careened upwards, not even hitting the barrier, and then flew back to the angel only to be flung back with a sword swing.

Zeke swore they were moving with a mind of their own. They had to be alive. Another troubling thought spawned in his mind.

Ugo.

Zeke looked over at Ugo, unconscious on the ground, and a hail of bullets flew toward him. “No!” Zeke shouted.

The bullets veered away from Ugo and flew back to the angel. This time, one bullet pierced through its cheek and brushed past the bridge of its nose, leaving a scar. Blood squirted out of its face.

Zeke realized that Violet had stopped firing a while ago, and yet, the angel was still being assaulted with persistent bullets.

“Rulitos, these are Demon Bullets.” Violet said and took the last bite from her blue apple. “They’re of a species of demon called ‘Voramatias’. They’re living organisms similar to bacteria. You can say that they’re Ongrakas’ fleas. They focus only on the being with the highest level of purity in the area.” Violet released a manic laugh and tossed her finished apple away. “Señor Angel over is the perfect gourmet meal for them!”

The angel was swinging its sword at an insane speed. All Zeke could see were blurs. Bullets flying away and then back to it. Nothing could stop the bullets, the angel was trapped in bullet hell. Zeke thought back to the shoot ‘em up games he’d watch Ugo play. In Tridimensional Wars 3, there were sections where no matter how many spaceships you blew up, it wasn’t making progress of any kind, like there was a trick to figure out in order to get the spaceships to stop blasting at you.

Ugo. Zeke hoped he was okay and would do everything in his power to patch him back to health, even magic if he had to, dammit.

The angel blasted forward in a niveous explosion with a sound similar to a jet engine; it made Zeke’s ears pop. The angel soared mid-air and stretched its sword back with the bullets swarming him — the Demon Bullets swarming him and riddling its body and face with holes; blood spurted out of every hole.

The chimera attacked the angel before it got to Violet. The furry lizard creature unsheathed its talons and scratched, and bit the angel all over. Violet didn’t stay put. She raised her hands and exhibited a myriad of hand signs.

The scuffle lasted for just a few seconds; the angel lopped off the chimera’s arms with a swift strike. Forest green liquid sprayed out from its stumps as it squealed in agony. The angel ignored the goo splattering onto its clothes and thrust its mighty blade into the monster’s back and it dropped silently. The chimera transformed back into its rifle form, but it was in pieces.

As the angel pulled out its sword, Violet put her hand on her chest and cited, “Neurpatia!”

Suddenly, a white calico hooded cloak materialized instantaneously around Violet’s frame. A silver plating pattern circled the rim of the hood and descended in the back with wavy lines and then formed a silver cross symbol. A thin, light red strip of cloth wrapped around her collar like a scarf and a plethora of tiny sigils decorated a silver metal mask that covered the lower half of her face.

The angel stormed toward her, the tip of the white blade aimed at her gut. Violet stretched her hand forward, making a hand sign — her middle and ring finger lowered with her thumb, forefinger, and pinky sticking out.

The angel struck Violet and the green goo-soaked, bloodstained, snow-white blade jutted out from behind her.

The world went silent for Zeke. He flinched, a source of enmity beaconed near him. He turned his head to the side and saw a long, cushioned chair rise from the ground. A sinister nimbus swirled calmly around it as a giant pink sigil formed under it. It was a circle with curved lines and half-circles marked across its center. It reminded him of the wrinkles and folds on the lobes of the human brain.

Flaming leather straps rose from the chair and into the air like trails of smoke. Now, Zeke realized, the chair looked exactly like the ones they used for lobotomies.

The straps shot toward the angel and snaked around its limbs, jaw, and head. It reeled it back like a fish and it crashed into the chair. The straps squeezed and tightened its grips on the screaming angel. Its skin sizzled and released steam.

Violet smirked and slogged forward. She hauled out the sword from her body. It fell to the floor, and she continued to slog while groaning and hissing at the pain. Violet produced a bottle of pills from the inner pockets of her cloak and gulped down every single one.

She stopped before the struggling angel and tossed the bottle away. “Let me properly introduce myself, Señor Angel. It’s only fair that my dear patients learn their doctor’s name before the procedure, right?”

The angel glared and clenched its teeth. “Your magic, it’s based on counter-attacking holy beings. You’re the Angel-Killer, aren’t you?”

Violet paused. Blood leaked out of her wound, forming a puddle by her feet.

Zeke moved up to the barrier and pressed his hands against it. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. He found himself not fearing for Violet, but for the angel. Was this right? Sure, the angel was assaulting him and Ugo, but still…

Violet pulled down her hood and then her mask. Showing the angel her face again with pride.

She produced two instruments from under her cloak. She held a long purple pick in one hand and a black hammer in the other. Her eyes widened, and a maddening smile played on her lips.

“I knew it,” the angel said.

“My name is Violet Balles.” she announced. “My specialty is the brain. I am the master of the mind of all creatures.”

“You impious child, I’ll put an end to your imprudence here! Do you really think you can kill me?”

A bright pink aura enveloped her hand, and she waved it past the angel’s face. Her hauntingly purple eyes radiated. “So, you’re a Dominion. A top-class angel. Nananiel.”

Nananiel looked back fearfully.

She snickered. “I now know everything about you. Let’s get started.”