Chapter 0: Prologue


“Rise against you idiot hell-mongers!” Bellowed forth from Irinet Lucifer, field leader against the control of this paradise they called Heaven. “Forth stride, for only God knows what lays behind for the traitors!” He threatened, standing at least a head above the rest of the fallen angels, he swung black pension at the Glory of the Light as they streamed from the skies like locus. Spears of light crashed around him in defining crescendos that resonated through the lesser troops. He swung his black sword with anger of past damnations at these self proclaimed 'Saints' as they attempted to strike him down. He laughed. Black and golden armor shined with the light of the enemy as he strode across the battle field with unending patience and strife.
“Sir, they keep coming, there's just to many!” Screamed one of the Sergents that lead groups of the damned across the field, standing equal rank around Lucifer.
“End your worthless bitching with the last stand of your body!” Lucifer roared back, charging forth on the broken moralled demon with sudden speed that defined even the everlasting. Held by the throat, the demon squirmed in Lucifer's grasp as he contorted the dark energies into solid form and pressed a pentagram into the chest of the wide eyed and now lost troop. Rage in eyes and with power not known to most, the Archdemon launched the screaming creature into the mists of the lowering angels, the blast ripped across their ranks.
“Will someone find our air support!” He commanded, anger burned into the mouth piece in the armored half-brace around the right side of his neck. Static screamed back. He cursed the fools that sat in the air rather down on the true war zones. He duck behind one of the hundreds of thousands of random bunkers and fox holes that dotted this Reality. He was joined be four other Hell Troopers as they caught their breathes under the solid ceiling above them.
“Sir, we have reports of odd movement from behind enemy lines and the fall back of the angels.” One of the troops yelled to him over the screams of the dieing and the crash of arcane powers and divine lances. “We have reason to believe that they are preparing for the onslaught of one of their apostles.”
“Well, thats always good to hear...” Joke another Troopers, a heavy Alchemical War-Veteran that bore Thrasher-pentagrams along the wider that required gauntlets. Sending laughter with the torrent of concentrated Darkness at oncoming warriors. “Too bad we don't have anyone to join us.” He shook his spare fist into the air with mock agony. Lucifer smiled, he enjoyed the company of warriors that enjoyed war for war, not for profit or because he or she was drafted. One of the other laughed in light, musical notes and smiled as she through healing packets to the bunkered men.
“You boys last about as long in war as you do in bed.” She mused, adjusting one of her arm braces before leaping back into the wakes of war. Lucifer shook his head as the War-Vet laughed and followed suit. He accepted a clip of Amplifiers from another, this Fallen sister wearing a war mask that resembled the features that of a snarling dog. She sprinted into the battle, but was impaled by a pulsing spear that turned her silent body to ashes. He slipped on the energy amplifier, a glove with power controllers that ramped up basic energy and directed it to the wearers finger tips. He sighed before tapping the last soldier on the shoulder, the demon arguing with an Avian Fighter on the other side if his mouth piece. Lucifer reentered the onslaught of war. He saw the War-Vet sending sending screaming bolts into the flocks of angels. He saw the girl leap at a swooping angel, landing upon the screaming womans shoulder blades and wings, bring them both rolling to the ground in a mass of feathers, blood, and dirt. He raised his clawed hand to an oncoming angel and sent a salvo of bolts into the person. Step-siding the meteor of burning flesh, feather, and skin. He stepped on the mounds of the dead and the ash as he looked onto the hell hole that this place was becoming. Angels fighting the very things that they caused, that they banished from light. God forbid that they think that light doesn't create the shadows.
“Rise Against!” He roared, his voice raging above the screaming and other ungodly ambient noise. He walked into the horror of Hell in combat.


“Is this really the piece we are forced to pay?” Asked Hel-Mundel, she shook her head of beautiful golden hair, her black armor discarded for sport of a more comfortable rope that adorned her naked and recently shower ridden body. Lucifer wrapped arms around her waist and lightly kissed her neck. “Really, Luc, is this what our shining brethren have forced on us?”
“Our every persistent brethren think not of us, but of their crusades.” Lucifer mumbled back, nuzzling her neck and looking out along her lightning yellow eyes to the burning of the dead and the treating of wounded troops. “We fight for a tomorrow worth fighting for, this is the price the populace of New Haven pays for letting trade with the angels. Let them burn the dead, but for the light would consume them.”
“And of Brother Arvacarda?” she asked, looking at the floor.
“Jag has yet to be found, his disappearance has many of use wondering if it was he who used the Sanctified Machine to create Reality 666. all we know is that it is now harboring life of its own, a life that lives off the belief in Heaven and the fear of Hell.” He whispered into her ear, holding her tighter to him.
“These 'Sanctified Machine' have becoming more active?”
“Yes, they are beginning to rise to full power more and more now.” Lucifer sighed. “The other of the two combining machines have shown activation signs. We think that they have the power to create complete other realities.”
“The Saints have great power don't they...” Hel-Mundel whispered.
“They are of God, they could do anything. Jag was bragging on how he was finally translating the Saints languages and writing. He said that he was close to finding how to rise past Heaven, past the angels and into the true glory of God. Angels may use the light, but they are far from the perfection of being pure energy like our Father.” He sighed and ran a scarred hand through his thick black hair, the towel around his waist giving his upper torso to the visible would. He was the leader of the very armies of Hell and the surrounding War Havens like Tartarus, New Haven, Pandemonium, and Armageddon. Hel-Mundel, the beauty that she was, lead the Apocalypse Sisters into battle.
“You think Jag will be fine?” She asked, placing her hand against the crystal window that offered the best view out onto the now silent fields.
“Jag will survive.” Lucifer stated, sliding into his leisure robes and adorning his ever in reach sword. “He is one of the most dangerous creature ever to be cursed to this land.” Hel-Mundel let her hand slide down the window on its delicate finger tips.
“The Elders used to tell me that Jagvarus is the worst of the worst, that he is the great peril ever to be created.” she whispered, not turning around
“Jag is the essence in the back of the most forbidden things, he is the Alchemist, the Great Finder, the Philosopher. He is many things, but the only thing you need to know is that he is on our side.” Lucifer left with a final hug and kiss.

Walking among the white halls of the fortified position they had built, Lucifer hoped Jag was still on his side.