Divine Judgment - Part 1

[The Designer]

Part 1 - The End of the World

Before posting, please post here

Purity and Godliness. These were the two virtues to which man is to operate upon. For those who stray from the path there lies nothing but their swift and brutal execution. These were not just enforced by The Order, but by something else... Something greater and closer to God....

But the World is afoul now. The human governments are nothing more but puppets to the monsters which lie in the shadows. Mages are who truly control the power... Tipping and creating governments like toys in order to suit their needs. Not only that, their powers are a sin against God. Magic is the realm of God and God alone. For those who enter, they are desecrating the Divine with their unholy footsteps. But with the world under thumb of Magic Users, there lies no hope for Humanity. Forever more shall they lead sinful lives, never knowing the degree of their sin. Even the Order, who acts in God's name, has turned away from the correct path by using the Devil's arts instead of their inner holiness. They are nothing better now than a bunch of zealots who act on the church's accords, not the Divine's...

As the World prepared to start a new day, seven "Seals" were seen all over the world....

The First Seal was over the USA, specifically over the city of Las Vegas.
The Second Seal was in Europe, hovering over Berlin
The Third Seal was seen over Beijing China
The Fourth Seal was seen over Sydney Australia
The Fifth was seen over Congo
The Sixth Seal was seen over Rio de Janeiro in South America
The Seventh Seal was seen over Antarctica, right over the middle of the thundra...

These seals looked like giant blue lines over the sky.. and they radiated just like a rupture. But instead of chaotic energy, the pure, refined energy that a mage channels emitted from the Seals, as they opened. What came forth from the seals were giant, huge ass ships. They completely overshadowed the city they were enter. They were white, and looked like a huge floating castle of some sort. From what appeared, they looked to be at least the size of New York City, if not more.

"HUMANS!" A Voice rang, it's voice powerful and commanding. "We have seen your sinful ways. You have all turned from the way of God, living in sin and away from His eternal perfection. We tried to turn you to the correct path, but all of this was in naught. So for centuries, we have debated what to do. The only obvious thing left to do is to Wipe your Pathetic and Sinful life..... And wash this world clean!"

With that, the Citadels dispensed what seemed to be Millions of aircrafts into the sky. They were all white, and had a very metallic and futuristic feel to them. Death rained from above, as cities were crushed and humans killed in the destruction. The citadels fired white laser beams upon the cities, killing thousands as the smaller aircraft began to continue with the destruction. Human government, in the first hour after the initial, unwarned attack, launched human military against this menace. However, they were all destroyed within enter the first hour of battle, in the air at least. Soon enough, the ships began landing, as what seemed to be even more millions of soldiers, all wearing futuristic or anachronistic armor, stepped off the ships and began to enter ground combat. This army was well trained in the power of magic, and easily wiped the pitiful human defenses.... All seemed lost to the humans, and only in seven hours....

But in this moment of darkness, the Arcane Treaty Organization and it's allies stepped to the battle...

To Asia rose the Monastery, pledging to fight the predations of these invaders...
To North America D-13 rose, sending it's highly trained army into the fray.
South America's defense was in the domain of Eternity, who had a huge stake in the magical power within the continent.
Europe's defense fell upon the Rosicrucian Alliance, with innumerable spirit allies fighting besides them in battle
Australia was alone... but the Arcane Academy was able to convince the Order to protect the isle, and strike a truce for now.
And to Antarctica, the Academy was charged to defend it...

"EVERYONE!" Byron yelled, standing among the frozen fields of the dead continent. "Today, we have assembled you, the Academy's finest, to lead the battle against these foes. They have come from another world to kill all of humanity in a genocidal rampage. Their numbers seem limitless, But forget that! We have a Duty to the World to use our powers to make it a better place! Sooner or later we'll have to fight... Even in our safe hold of the Babylos... So I say we fight them now! In the Cold ruins of Antarctica, we shall stand our Ground!"

And with that, the thirty thousand soldiers/students the Academy had gathered yelled in mixed unison. They were standing in the middle of the icy field, magical protection about them, as they awaited for what seemed to be the Foe of the World. In the corners of their eyes, the Tracers could see what seemed to be the first sign of the innumerable army approach, but they were not sure. Behind them, the ruins the Academy owned stood, tall, preparing for another tempest...

The gathered fighters knew not what they fought or for what reasons... All they knew was that if they did nothing,the world would be blow to pieces... All the warriors gathered came from different backgrounds, but all wanted to fight whatever the hell this is. Photos have confirmed the appearance of the Magical World's foes... But no announcement beyond the first speech was made about this genocide. But that didn't matter... What mattered was getting these bastards back for what they did to the mundane world, and the fact that perhaps no longer, the Magical World could not stay in the open...

Meanwhile, aboard one of the ships..

"Remiel... Is everything in place?"

"Yes Lord Michael, I have just sent Sariel to Antarctica in order to fight the Academy."

"Excellent. What of the others?"

"Gabriel is doing fine in her campaign against Africa. All she has had to deal with so far are Vampires, Werewolves, and other such weaklings. Raphael is doing fine in his battle against D-13, he under stands them perhaps better than they do themselves. Raguel is continuing her assault upon the Heathens in South America, and Uriel has already establish a foot hold in Australia. I myself am doing fine against the Rosecrucians, but I do fear for Sariel, your Lord."

"Do not be.... We are charged by the power of God. We have came here, we the Sons of Light, to make war upon the Sons of Darkness... Those who would seek to use magic. They are the followers of Belial, Remiel. So claimed by our lord Metatron, and we must follow it through onto the end... Lest we let God's work fall into darkness...."

"Indeed my lord, let us wipe out the Edom, Moab, the sons of Ammon, the Amalekites, Philistia, and the Kittim of Asshur. They shall feel the divine wrath they hath wrought onto themselves. We are the Angels of God Himself! We shall purify this dark world in his holy name! Amen General Michael!"

"Amen Arc Angel Remiel."

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

A light wind blows dusty snow across the broad, frozen plains of the Antarctic tundra. "It's ironic," Torm says to no one in particular, "that a continent with so little life on it is to be a place of so much death..." Torm never thought he'd die defending Antarctica from endless invading aliens, but it was time to pay his dues. To the Academy, and to this world that he lives in.

Assembled around him are thousands of the finest and most talented magical beings the world contains. Not all of them like each other much. Some certainly have their own agendas. Still, today they are assembled in allegiance as a united force defending a wold they share in common and are thus bound by a fraternity that surpasses all other allegiances. Such a fellowship is not to be wholly rejoiced though, for its formation is made possible and necessary chiefly by the arrival of a great doom.

Torm hefts his folded ladder and plants one end of it in the icy turf. The cold isn't so bad; he had settled a weave of warmth over all his equipment and clothing at the get go to counteract it. His thoughts shift to his family. His parents: he had written a letter for them that they would receive if the worst should happen. Hell, for all he knew his father had been called up to fight too. His sister was certainly here, somewhere in this force; he hoped she would be able to hold her own.

For something to do, he rechecks his equipment. The countless devices and mechanisms in his ladder are fine-tuned and ready. A few hundred assorted clockwork beetles and two dozen clockwork pidgeons are tucked in various pouches and pockets about his person. Leather boots and gloves adorned with their usual magic-reflective metal plating reflect the cold sun back at the sky with a vengeance. His ace in the sleeves/pantlegs was in reserve in case he needed a surprise in a crucial moment. Finally, his tan trench coat and broad-brimmed fedora are immaculate. If he was going to die, he was going to look fly while doing it.

Searching for something more to occupy himself with while waiting for an order, he leans sideways and says to the person next to him, "Have you ever been in this sort of action?" Still staring ahead at the horizon, he doesn't look to see who it is.

[Lilium Kether]

...Permafrost...

Standing amongst children in the middle of a cold tundra was not my idea of a good time. These plains of snow were supposed to be the battle field for the onslaught yet to come. Why was I there? Boredom. And so that I could let those blasted Ain Soph know that I was still around, and that I still believed that I never deserved this fate that I was born into. It was horrible to be damned for something that you had never done. It makes one wonder about God Himself.

"It's Ironic... that a continent with so little life on it is to be the place of so much death..."

The orange haired child next to me had said. He was ignorant of the truth, but that was a beautiful thing. To be ignorant of what has happened before may be a form of bliss. I remained wrapped in my cloak, with a bit of black cloth over the majority of my face, like Man wore so long ago in the desert to protect ourselves from the sand in the air. My staff Hraveslagr was in my right hand, held behind my back, the Book of Tempest was in my cloak's inner right pocket.

("I remember when the world wasn't so divided geographically, and there was only one continent. This cold one that you claim to be so lifeless was the center of all life. Beneath this frost and ice... is what Man was barred from so long ago.")

I said in response to his comment on the irony of this. Ice and snow gathered around my boots. The cold was beginning to get to me. If I was moving a bit more, it wouldn't have been so bad.

"Have you ever been in this sort of action?"

The child asked me. I shook my head in response. Of course not. If I had, He would not have forgotten me. This was an entirely unique situation. However I remember the day when Man fell, and a similar battle took place between the ranks of the Ain Soph. Of course... I did not participate, I was on the Earth, just a child like this orange haired one.

("Ne'er hath I been in this sort of... action. But I have seen it before.")

(OOC: For future reference, Lilium speaks in what modern people would call "Tongues", usually only seen in intense prayer. It is the only language she knows. Yet she understands all languages, and all people understand her speech, just not word for word. In other words, they understand the idea of what she is saying.)

[Chephros]

Chephros stood there with the academy students around him. He was a demon amongst thousands of other races. Given the chance and the power he would have gladly killed all of them. However, the only problem with this was that he didn't have the power to do so yet, and from what the enemies blared out to the world at the start, he guessed they were holy warriors. If they were, he would definitely be a target. His chaotic magic would probably point him out.

[glow=red,2,300]"A ussta vlos nindyn vel'uss thrityh uns'aa orn el"[/glow]

The Demonic language would also point him out, but at this point he was charged to fight. He smirked and his fanged teeth showed. His hands flexed their claws and his tail swished slightly in place, still held away from the nearby students. It wouldn't be very good if the soul crystal in the middle of that fog touched a cut from a student and sapped his soul from his body.
[glow=red,2,300]
"Whol l' yorn d'lil xsa, lu' l' vesdrac d' ussta noamuth errdegahren, Usstan orn elgg dos."[/glow]

Chephros looked around. He doubted anyone would understand him. If they asked, he wouldn't reply. He was calling out to the dead demons in the world to allow him to fight for their power as well. They had died for a reason unnatural to their natural lives. Normally they gained power on this realm then ascended back to their own plane to fight and eventually test themselves to gain the rank of Demon Lord. However they had been killed by tracers and other magical orders, and now there weren't many left. This ticked him off.

[glow=red,2,300]"Vharcan qua'laen faer lu' yorn ulu Vhid."[/glow]

His wrist blades touched the ground, his limp arms slowly moving as his heart beat and small reverberations causd his arms to thus move. The blades created small twin lines on each side, the middle point not being long enough. He was now just waiting quietly in his group, his three sentences lingering in his mind. The sharp and snakey language of Demons sharp on his tongue. He smirked as he thought about it. If he were in the past and he said that he probably would have been laughed at. Now though, anyone who knew what he was thinking about the amount of demons there should be and how many there were, plus the fact that he was more loyal to them, despite fighting them constantly, than he was to the humans, they might just listen instead of laugh.

[Cirkel]

Well, this is quite the situation, isn't it?

Yes, it was quite the situation. Cirkel never quite had the taste for war beyond bitter, as he was one who didn't very much enjoy death in general. Sufficed to say an entire field of the event wasn't a joyed thought. Even so, he didn't find himself in complete shock or fear or anything of that sort. Truth to the world, he was in a bit of a remeniscent stage. He was at that point where he could just stand back and watch everything unfold. As many, when he woke up to eat a bowl of corn flakes he hadn't quite expected a call to arms. Yes, it was a surprise, but one many were dealing with.

Looking around, and still with that ever-present smile, he was happy to see that there was a fairly calm air, at least in his general area. He was stationed, at least for the moment, only three rows from the front. It seemed he was to be in the group to fight first and stop last. Or, he was just supposed to be the new foundation of Antarctica's soil. Either way, he'd be doing some good.

Many of the people around Cirkel seemed older. Not middle-aged, most probably only in their early-to-mid twenties, but each one had an expression and body language that said "Professionalism". One figured that a good thing. He could imagine that if there was anyone he wanted to be near in the upcoming battle, it was them. They all looked like they could handle themselves; him as well.

The war, it seemed, had not yet gone into the lasers-burning-off-your-face-stage, though the tension seemed to be rising quickly. The calm before the storm, as it were. Well, fair enough. Maybe there would be no battle at all. Maybe the enemy would wait, keep the war at a stand still, and wait for morale to plummet. Thoughts of abandonment would be high, and frustration to a boiling point. Then, they'd make their move.

Doubts on our shoulders and fatigue upon our faces, it would be simple. Like hearding sheep for the slaughter.

Cirkel quickly shook his head in order to rattle the thoughts from his mind. Bad ideas. He had always thought that confidence was half the battle, so it was as good a time as any to keep that philosophy. He couldn't but wonder if conversation was appropriate at this time, though for now he would be quiet. No point being a distraction, after all. He would simply stand, and smile.

[fishtie]

Whoo... Bit chilly. Machal thought to himself. Actually it wasn't that bad. Though Machal was probably the only student among the group to not be wearing a shred of clothing his fur seemed to be keeping the cold at bay. Machal actually had a pretty good view, in his feral form his half turned head stuck up above most of the rest of the crowd. It also helped that he had somehow ended up in the second rank, though he wasn't sure how that had occurred.

What he was even doing their in the first place he really didn't know. He had heard, just as everyone had, about The Vision. The Academy was still ultimately a school and the only thing that could move faster then light was a juicy rumor at a school. The telling of the end of the world was such a big deal that it wasn't even just a vision anymore, it was The Vision, earning inappropriate capitol letters and everything.

But now Machal was here, opposing the end of the world. But why? Why fight? Was there even any hope of survival? Think about it, this was the end of the world. How did you fight something like that? It seemed so absolute, so final. Everyone had just been giving thanks to the earth a few days ago, but it was probably only now, that they were about to lose it, that they really meant what they said. Too bad it was too late.

But then why was Machal here? he knew it was pointless. He had read a few books where the heroes stopped the end of the world with their bravery and friendship, but from the looks of that army it would take more then big hearts to stop it for real.

Kill or be killed. Never give up. Ahh, that was it, Machal realized. That was why they were all here. That little voice inside of you that told you too keep fighting no matter what. When the chips were really down you couldn't give up. True you risked everything, but really you would lose it anyway if you never fought. Even if all they were capable of was to prolong their lives for a few seconds more it's not like fighting would make it any worse at this point.

So here Machal stood, surrounded by like minded individuals, ready to fight for their very lives. Because really, what was there to lose?

"It's my planet, and I'm not done using it yet..."

[Raiden Matsutani]

A cold chill of frosty air beat against Raiden's bare chest, brushing over his shoulder's constantly. Anyone of course would see he should be cold, and he is...but that isn't the reason he’s shivering. Raiden thought back on the incident in the courtyard with the headmaster. The headmaster had talked of this up coming threat in such a way that it was hard to believe it was real. Well, the man was right...everything was indeed real.

The word holy had Raiden bound. That was the one element that would really knock his socks off. Of all the threats that could have surfaced...it had to be 'holy'. The one thing that creatures born of sin hate most of all was holy. More than human maybe... Raiden as a demon hated this war already just because of this 'Holy Citadels' talk. Like any other demon, or vampire, he would be a target in this battle field. His heart repeatedly impaled with holy javelins....or any kind of weapons this threat can throw at him.

Raiden just stood there quietly amongst the roaring student body. His thoughts kept him ever so silent. Raiden reassured his doubts though with his own growing strength. Keeping himself still he reassured himself that everything would be alright. He reassured himself that he would rip the heart out of every single enemy he comes across out here. He wasn't going let anyone put him down to rest. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Who ever stood against him would surely perish by his will. With that will Raiden with every inch of his strength will keep on charging full blown until nothing is left.

His thoughts went from reassurances to carnage like thoughts. Thoughts only a pure bred demon like him could think up. Thoughts like that were reassuring... In fact it felt good to think that way. It warmed him up on the inside. If anyone was a mind reader thoughts like these had no intentions of protecting the Academy or the world for that matter. These thoughts were all about keeping himself alive. And so...he felt ashamed...

[The Designer]

Sebastian looked across the ice covered fields, his purple eyes darting from side to side. The cold was intense... But for some reason, it was not as bad as it should be. Perhaps the Angel's intrusion into the world set off some sort of ecological crisis or something... Well, who had time to watch that when you got a Canon of Divine fury looking you down. Walking across the hill he was lying on, he continued to psychically sweep the field. He was assigned to scout out the location of these divine beasts, to warn the home base in the event of a attack.

"For a while..." Sebastian thought "I've been hiding out here in the human world.... Perhaps I need to return to my Brethe-"

Suddenly, his thoughts were cut off as he saw a figure approach. Strapped from head to toe in arctic survival gear, it was none other than Silabus, carrying around his rifle behind his head. Smiling at the boy, Silabus sat down as he set himself to examine his rifle.

"It seems things are going bad" The man said, his tone quick and cold like the wind around him.

"Why?" The boy responded.

"I have received a update from Byron. It seems as though the Angels have spread far and wide over the entirety of Antarctica. We think that these bastards are trying to us this god-fucked place as a home base of sorts. Anyways, our small Outpost here is going to be attack from the west by at least ninety percent of all the angels here. The other ten are probably gonna go sweeping around this place for any signs of humans I imagine. Things are going to get hot and insane soon Sebastian... I think I can already sen-"

He was cut off, as he heard the distant rumbling of what seemed to be millions of Angels, flying through the sky or gliding across the snow. Quickly Sebastian psychically contacted Byron, warning him of the doom approaching. His message was quick before Silabus snatched the youth and quickly dashed down the hill and toward a snow mobile nearby. The Arcane outpost was nearby, and Silabus quite frankly did not want to fight two against this innumerable legion.

Meanwhile, back at base, Byron quickly informed all the commanders that the invasion had indeed begun. The thirty thousand that the school had assembled turned westward at the behest of Byron, moving across the base toward their foe. There was no point in leaving anyone behind... It was either do or die. Most people probably thought they'd live in this battle... And yet, now... they're facing what seemed to be millions of angels looking them down. However, everyone here, all the thirty thousand, knew the fact that if they ran away from this fight, then the Arcane Base would fall, and that a free connection between the Academy and the Angels would occur.

The Academy has been lucky... The powerful magics surrounding it had obfuscated it from the Angel's prying eyes. However, if this base fell it would mean that these Divine beings would be able to access the Academy....

"LET US MARCH FOR THE ACADEMY!" Byron yelled, raising his arm in the air.

And with that, the army moved out toward the west, seeing the innumerable legion that was the Angels....

"And thus...we begin" Sariel said, sitting on board his ship....

[Tristan Knightrhode]

OOC: finally, to post.

Tristan was in the very front of the ranks. He'd been there when the supposed end of the world had been predicted. And he was there to prove it wrong. Heavily armed, determined, and ready to destroy his fair share of the angelic opposition. Tristan's hair blew in the sharp wind of the tundra, though he was uneffected by the cold. Fire being his element, he was immune enough to the tempurature of just about any environment.

Igneus sat, rigid, on his partners shoulder. The element dragon, too, was ready to kill as many as he could. Fang, Claw, Spike, Tail, Girth, Flame, and Spell. Everything would be thrown at the Angels...full force. The beast only had a few elements, none of which were any better or worse against angels than humans. Thirty Thousand strong, we stand. Most of us head to our doom. He communicated aloud. The nearby mages would wonder where the voice came from as no visible being had moved. "Not before we take out a few hundred." The hunter remarked, grinning slightly.

If each mage took out but thirty-three of the enemy, they could slay one million Angels. Their number, however, was probably closer to ten million. "So all of us just have to take out three hundred and thirty-three angels." He said quietly, knowing that he could take out that many in a single attack, and would probably do so, right from the gate. Byron spoke then, rallying his troops. Such a peaceful looking man...who knew he could be such the general?

"EVERYONE!"

A short pause.

"Today, we have assembled you, the Academy's finest, to lead the battle against these foes. They have come from another world to kill all of humanity in a genocidal rampage. Their numbers seem limitless,"

Limitless huh? That just means more for the slaughter.

"But forget that! We have a Duty to the World to use our powers to make it a better place! Sooner or later we'll have to fight... Even in our safe hold of the Babylos... So I say we fight them now! In the Cold ruins of Antarctica, we shall stand our Ground!"

Yes, Fight. Only, This is no fight. This is no game. For all fighting is a game, to be won or lost. Training has the smallest stakes. Fighting for your life is simply playing 'all in'. No, this is no fight. This is battle...This, is war.

Tristan and Igneus roared with the rest of them, the intensity of the entire cry could be heard for miles. Now to battle. A short wait was all that was reprieve before Byron spoke again.

"LET US MARCH FOR THE ACADEMY!"

Tristan moved forward at a marching pace. Some of the more animalistic races of the Academy might have trouble with the pace, but it would probably be over soon, and they would break ranks into full on running. The Crusnik began charging his mana, bringing it to peak so as to be able to unleash an insane ammount power, all at once.

[The Designer]

As the army moved out, the commanders separated the formation to a giant semi circle with the inside curve facing the ruins, with the opposite side facing the Angels. Byron stood back in the ruins, over seeing the battles along side other high-ranking staff members. Despite their positions as teachers, each one of the Staff were trained to be soldiers and tacticians. Perhaps it could be said that the Arcane Academy was like a Magical Sparta, but that wouldn't do the Academy any justice on their warrior zeal... Regardless, Byron relayed a command to the unit commanders, telling them to open up the magical force shields all around the formation. To a mortal on-looker, it would seem a bit queer to see the Academy using rather anachronistic battle formations... But these mortal on-lookers forget that Magic is being used... And magic can make these anachronistic formations just as powerful as a modern day's tactics.

Anyways, the shields went up, covering practically the entire force. There were barely any holes inside this perfect looking defense, as the Unit Commanders soon told their soldiers and students to prepare themselves...

Then, in the distance, the Angels finally came. Their numbers seemed endless, and their power seemed almighty. What appeared were three distinct looking Angels, ones which looked like traditional angels, another looked like something out of Gundam, and the final ones looked like giant robots. Most, if not all, were flying through the antarctic sky, their numbers so vast they blocked out the feeble sunlight. The rumbling through the air and ground was intense, so intense that it seemed like an earthquake was occurring. Not even the Tracers could've made out their number... But from what appeared, there were at least 6 Million Angels on the move... All of them rushing toward the feeble thirty thousand Arcane Defense Force.... The Angels then came closer... closer and closer as shots fired from the endless legion, only to hit the shields in place....

"NOW UNITS! CHARGE!!!" Byron yelled...

The army then rushed forth, not wishing to fight a defensive battle. From the air the regular Angels swooped in, taking the army in a ground battle of massive proportions. Holy shorts and Holy Fire balls shot out as magic filled the air, with Angel's and Man's blood filling the battle field. From the sky the Archangels fired down their shots, attacking the Arcane Defense Force. Those with the power to fly took to the skies to battle the Ark Angels. Byron, meanwhile, sent out about a thousand Aerial Vehicles to combat the Archangels and assist the flying mages.... From the back, Principalities were firing their cannons, crashing and even destroying the Academy's shields. Some Principalities even ran forward, assisting the Lower-Ranked Angels with their massive strength. battle had been joined, and now it was these brave thirty thousand souls who stood against the Angels...


...............


"So, Battle has been joined? Sariel spoke, looking at the battle from aboard his giant ship, the 7th Citadel to Appear, known as the Prudence.

"Indeed it has" An Angel spoke, his tone reverent of the Seraphim. "The feeble human defenses won't hold for long. Our righteous forces are bashing against their line, and soon they will fall shortly. After that, we'll have access to their magically obfuscated Heretical Academy."

"Excellent... Soon, I, Sariel the Angel of Death, shall bring the Academy to its heels.."

.....

Somewhere off in Byron's HQ

"So, you have appeared have you Sariel? I suppose it's time that i showed you who the True Angel of Death is..."

And with that, Azrael Thanatos began to walk outside....

[Tristan Knightrhode]

Tristan saw the shield activate. Smart tactic, a one way shield that would allow the Academy forces to fire out, but nothing to get in. The hunter would take advantage of that fact, and continue charging his mana. His first spells would be three dark clouds, annihilating some where around six hundred angels instantly. At that point, Tristan will have covered his quota twice over. Thrice if the true numbers were smaller than the Crusnik had predicted.

Shortly,

"NOW UNITS! CHARGE!!!"

Byron had commanded the group to charge, and Tristan did so, loosing his mana. "BLACK CLOUD!!!" He roared, waving his arm.

Three separate patches of darkness elemental sprouted from the ground, around a hundred yards infront of the mage. "VOLLEY!!" Was what he shouted next. The six hundred arms and three hundred bows loosed three hundred arrows of dark element from just behind the shield. The massive black cloud was off, "VOLLEY!!" He shouted again, the arms reloaded, seconds before the fore front of the Academy troops reached the patches, and three hundred more arrows were loosed. The three spells expended, the arms retreated into the ice laden tundra.

Far into the distance, massive elemental explosions sounded, annihilating hundreds of angels. Over two dozen arrows plowed into one of the Principalities, the massive mechs who were beginning to blast the allied shield. The heavily armored mech angel exploded with a chaotic fury as the opposing elements of light and dark reacted and destroyed eachother. It seemed to do massive damage to the enemy forces, but in reality, it likely caused less than a one percent mortality rate on the enemy. It took one thousand one thousands to take out a million...and that attack probably took out just under that number of enemy, one thousand.

Tristan charged now at top speed, his mana reserves none too worse for wear, but he would need time to recover his magics. The forces soon clashed on the physical front. Tristan drew his blade and hacked almost effortlessly through the armor of the lowest level of angels. Tristan, though he could fly, did not take to the skies, and likely wouldn't until there was fountains of angelic blood to be pulled into his wings and he could Transform, taking in the holy blood of the enemy, and becoming impervious to light element.

More hacks and slashes, Several of the enemy tried smiting the hunter with flaming swords. Tristan laughed in response before putting his blade through their necks, removing their heads with even more ease than hacking through their torso's. A few times he was struck by a blade, his blood oozing from the slashes. The hunter then spun around, removing the heads of all of the surrounding enemy with his part diamond blade. Their holy armors and magic shields were no match, not for the diamond and titanium blade and fierce attacker who held it.

Igneus blew out flames from his partners shoulder left and right, using natural aiming abilities to loose more wild flames than what are usually loosed, in order to conserve mana. Igneus then hopped off his partners shoulder, who lept away, breathing fire from his recovered maw. Once no Academy forces were near, Igneus transformed into his fully girthed form, crushing near one hundred enemy under foot and over a dozen tons of mass.

Huge blasts of flame engulfed hordes of angels, Igneus being careful not to hit any allied mages, though not caring if his flames hit Tristan. So far, this was easy, and at the rate of angels being slaughtered, the huner would be able to transform soon, as long as he could get some cover while he absorbed the blood of the Angels and recovered.

[Raiden Matsutani]

Raiden slowly started into a march along with the entire student body. It was kind of hard for him to keep that pace. Back then in Japan it was all about full blast head on collision at the start. This is like that typical pick up speed along the way. It didn't matter though...it gave him some time to clear his thoughts and focus.

Raiden honestly didn't know how the angels looked like so no strategy was running through his mind at the moment. The only thing that occurred was that he at least needed space. He was going to get that request soon.

As soon as everyone broke out into a full on dash, Raiden increased his speed for only a second. With that he bounded off the ground and into the air several feet. Several beam rifle blasts instantly flew out towards Raiden. Raiden twisted in the air dodging most of the shots and deflecting the rest with his gauntlet. Raiden came down on top of a lower level angel pushing his claws through its throat.

Stupid humans...

Raiden turned and spotted an angel as it fired off its beam rifle. Raiden with little effort ran over and placed a hand on its rifle. Suddenly the beam rifle exploded from the little shock he gave it. Raiden not even close to getting caught in the explosion had already dashed on to another victim. So far it wasn't bad. If this enemy insisted on using these electric suits and rifles, then that's all the more easier. Plus Raiden had an ace up his sleeve as well. But for now he would take it slow.

[Lilium Kether]

.....Deviating from the Plan....

I deviated from the plan... but only for a time. You see, I was rather vulnerable to Angels in that state. And I preferred to be seen more of as a support unit, rather than a frontline soldier. I was not a frontline soldier. I was not a soldier at all. War was the place for women. That was how it was when I was taught to defend myself. Just to defend myself. I dropped to my knees for a second, and I know my face must have looked of agony. I still remember the pain...

(AAAAAHHHH!..... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!)

I screamed, and screamed, without any relief. My bones shifted and shattered, and I fell to my forearms. My skin turned a deep shade of pink, and I threw up. I rolled on my back, and my cloak opened up to show my bare belly as my new body was ripping apart my underclothing. Tremors rippled through my body as my muscles grew, and organs shifted. I vomited again, and then I vomited just bile and acid.

(AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUHHHHHH!!!)

I screamed one last time before my vocal cords changed, and I metasized rapidly. My body grew exponentially, and as my... I daresay... friend... Raiden had told me, I became the size of a thing called a 'sedan'. One and a half feet high, discounting my tail and it's razor sharp boar slicing blade. Five meters long, eight legs, and two pincers. My carapace color was white. And it was good armor. Very dense. I could take quite a few hits.

(Braaaahhhghhhh.....)

Then... I caught up with my companions, and joined the fray. Skittering ahead of them as a white mass. Impaling an Angel's shield, and blind siding him with my right pincer. I squeezed his guts out. And wondered how God could be ignoring me now.

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

"NOW UNITS! CHARGE!!!"

The army surges forth, and Torm rushes in. Deciding to start off with his Clockwork Beetles, He digs into his various pockets and pouches and activates dozens at a time, until there is a veritable cloud of the shiny metallic insects orbiting him like electrons about an atom. None of these pussy-footed around with status effects or anything like that; these were build for killing, and killing is what they did. More than half are the brown-shelled 'Driller' clockwork beetles. Capable of drilling through most substances, Torm guides them carefully through weak spots in the armor of angel after angel, and the beetles drill and slice cleanly through flesh and bone like bullets. A battalion of blue 'Shield Bearer' beetles stay close to the Irishman, intercepting spells and projectiles. Finally, a force of the purple "Energy Leech" beetles zoom about, attaching themselves to foes and sucking out their magical energies as well as channeling their stolen cargo to other insects and allied fighters, keeping everyone nearby topped off as best as possible.

In his mind, the battlefield becomes a construct of numbers and trajectories; a 3d grid in which he, allies, enemies, and his hundreds of little mechanical bugs move about. Keeping track of and controlling his little fellas called for a lot of concentration, but he hadn't been training for nothing. He would earn the past year's keep at the Academy through his efforts on this day.

Now the armies merge, and the enemies are everywhere. The bugs are doing an excellent job of of taking down nearby enemies, but there are so many of them! As Torm and the mass of foes approach each other rapidly, Torm brandishes his ladder and flows into combat, directing the beetles to concentrate to the sides and rear; he could handle straight ahead all right for himself. He would save spell-casting for when it was really needed.

Torm starts off holding the ladder across his front diagonally with both hands. He swings the lower end up, bashing away the first angel's weapon and striking it in the side of the jaw. The creature's lower jawbone and crushed helmet spin off into the air side by side. Torm allows the momentum of the strike to carry him around in a spin which brings the other end of the ladder around in a thrust into the stomach of the next angel, bending its armor into a perfect mold of the end of the ladder. Its back armor. No time to pause! A series of similar rapid thrust attacks carry Torm through a small phalanx of angels. He follows it up by fluidly extending the ladder to its full length and whipping it around in a 180-degree lateral sweep, bludgeoning down angels within a 15-foot radius.

This short period of clear space allows Torm to look about for allies. Nearby, he spies a giant scorpion who Torm is quite grateful is an ally. Same went for the dragon a bit further off. Was that Igneus? Tristan was surely over there too. Time for contemplating that ran out immediately though, as more angels rushed forward to oppose. Torm is already quite dirty from the gore of battle; that's what you get for using a blunt weapon. Well, it had been blunt so far, anyway, but that could and would change. Burying woeful thoughts about the dry-cleaning bill, he wades into the fight once more, swarm carving out a path of carnage along with him.

[Chephros]

Chephros smirked as the battle started. His hands started charging on their own though. Instead of running forward, he jumped backwards, flapping his wings to get above his allies' heads. They were charging forward though so he didn't have to move very far to be over them and behind. Sure, he would be vulnerable for a few seconds, but that's what the shield was for. He wasn't fired at anyway, the people in front being much better targets than one moving erratically up and down compared to the others, and so he was left alone(whether by shield or by easier targets in front of him), and made it back to the ruins. He found a small wall with a curving section and jump/flew up to the end of the curve. His tail went back and hooked around the end of the curvature of the broken dome. He smirked, this would be a fun little target practice test.

His left arm crossed over his right and his fingers shifted into rough pentagram edges. The lines crossed and his hands glowed and charged with Chaos. As his arms slowly spun more of his energy charged into one place and he ended up using half his power for this single blast. Of course, the helix would charge during it's firing, but at that point it would be self sustaining from the chaos it would be creating from the blasts, and thus it would grow in power slowly over time, but it would already be pretty strong. His arms circled and his right arm touched his left. The twin lines shot out, spiraling quickly towards a Principality. The lines marked their target then the two end points closed, creating one single dot.

The first two balls of energy fired and traced down the lines rapidly, circling in towards each other. It took five seconds for them to race all the way to their target as they spun rapidly and whirled in a blaze of power. Not a lot of power, but enough so that when it hit, the thing visibly moved backwards. During the first shot's travel, four more had fired, and once it hit a fifth one. Twin blasts each second. He was feeding it a small bit of power as it sustained itself, but only enough to where he wouldn't feel it for a while, and by that point he would probably have been shot from his perch.

Six blasts rocketed into the Principality and then it's armor cracked. Each shot was sufficiently stronger than the previous and at this point a holy shield was raised. The helix still targetted the thing, but the blasts smacked into the shield. It, however, was struggling to contain the mass of demonic energy flying at it rather rapidly. Force, raw power, and the essence of demons all collided with a holy force and after four successive shots, the shield broke and several more powerful shots hit the giant moving cannon. Three broke through to the other side, exploding with a powerful force inside the thing.

His arms turned slightly. The helix moved incredibly fast towards a second Principality, and shots erupted forth. At this point he had definitely been noticed for his ability to destroy these things, albeit he had to stand relatively still to do so, and thus the principality he was firing at in turn shot at him. The blast nipped his shoulder, and the biting force of Angelic power nearly smacked him from the roof. Instead he simply reaimed his shots skyward, at the Ark Angels flying around. Three shots knocked one out of the sky, he used his tail to keep himself aimed upward, then he rapidly shifted downward at the Principality again. The power of the shots dropped a bit with each change, and so now it was a bit under the starting force.

"Fridj el dos dosib mirshannen!"

His shots continually pounded in as blood came out of his shoulder. The angelic force wouldn't allow it to heal with his own demonic regeneration, and as such he would need someone to check it out. His arm was rapidly weakening and soon would die on him. He held it up though and kept the blasts focused on a single point of the giant tank. Eventually it cracked two shields, one from the tank, and one from another Principality, and he took a shot in the leg this time, which grounded him further into the ruin. It strained his tail greatly to keep him upright and his arms aiming at his target.

The armor cracked after several more blasts and then the inside of the thing started taking the explosions. The armor had stopped the double blasts from truly touching, which meant the full force wasn't being used. When the two finally touched into one part, they would explode very violently. The demonic energy would rip through angels in the area, but because it was inside the Principality these explosions were rather good at ripping them to shreds. The armor however, was simply a problem to get through. After four blasts the thing simply tried firing again but it's power backfired and the thing ruptured, exploding on it's own. Chephros' arms dropped, as did his tail, and his wings spread to keep him from directly falling hard. Even so he fell into the snow and smacked his face, one good arm, and lower body into some stone beneath him.

He doubted anyone would hear him, but since the teachers were near by, as he was inside the ruins where they were trying to be tacticians, he called out anyway.

"Hey! I could use help if anyone can heal!"

Then he resigned himself to waiting.