Crowds move like streams through the streets, flowing past abandoned vehicles in their rush away from the giant. All attention had been turned to the mountain of debris after it had collapsed deeper into itself, but moments later, it began bubbling upwards beyond the height it once was. Gray and brown dust rolls down the sides like ribbons of cotton, filtering into the maze of streets while chunks of building hail down. Appearing above the smoke, growing out from it, is the angel from before, the very one that struck the building down with her fingers, only to shrink down and enter the very mess they made. That same celestial now unfurls from a blanket of bricks, arisen to a glowing new scale that continues to enlarge.
200 feet does not satisfy Cyth, though no size properly could. Their humorless expression ignores the panic storming at their feet, their ears far away from the cries of terrified people and the wailing sirens that alert them of danger. As Cyth grows evermore, they stroll up the main road of the city, each footfall flattening two lanes of traffic each and expanding to devour more with every step. A hand brushes against a skyscraper’s balcony, using it as support while they idly stroll by, yet with enough force that the corner crumbles away under their touch. Within only a few paces, Cyth reaches a lake of startled people, but their gaze never falls onto them. A bloody footprint is all that Cyth acknowledges of their presence, with a second step roaring over the survivors’ heads with no regard to who would be crushed next.
Their decision had already been made, hence the carelessness of their movement. The city would be no more. Its future history of propelling humanity into a world of pollution and business would not be allowed to transpire, regardless of wherever the devil Oriphi had fled to. Cyth intends to cover all possible hiding places by destroying them all under foot, ensuring it could never be rebuilt to its former glory. With every foot in height gained, Cyth nears closer to the ideal size for crushing the very city they exit from.
Back in the direction they came, Cyth stands outside the city limits, two enormous feet each occupying a block of suburban homes. They stare into the city, perceiving it once more from a several thousand-foot size; no building surpasses their ankles, no street is wider than a finger, every person a speck of dust that clustered together. Those on Cyth’s side of the city watch in tranquil horror as a range of toes looked back at them, plainly situated over crushed houses and trees. The angel’s disgusted expression is out of sight, reaching the clouds that calmly hover past the doomed town.
The event is wordless, but Cyth’s glare speaks volumes to any mortal in the city with the vantage to perceive it. Their intense gaze weighs on the city as if gravity was amplified; mobs slow to a dreadful halt, while others collapse into whatever refuge they dream can protect them. The busy urban center slumps into paralysis as a foot outside the limits launches into the air, digging up fields of woods and homes that crumble off the bare sole if not becoming a stain upon it. The rain of dirt proceeds to enter the city, a sweep of coolness following it as Cyth’s shadow creeps over rows of structures.
Firearms are discharged. Missiles, too, rocket into the sky. The city’s last ditch efforts to save its population of hundreds of thousands are expended, resulting in small, distant puffs of explosions. Nothing at all deters the foot, tanking any and all damage while it takes an angled position. The heel slams into the earth to rest, conjuring an earthquake that warns the community of the coming disaster. Fear is renewed in the wake of the shockwave, but no panic can save them from the sole lingering over their roofs.
Cyth’s foot declines on the border of the city. Their heel rolls forward first, conquering a road of colorful homes, its winding hillside roads, and eventually a gas station. All is crushed by the round wall of flesh without flinching, including the eruption of the fuel reserves -- a combustion of immense flame, stomped out into nothingness as quickly as it had appeared. The wild flames in their brief lifespan cause an unnoticeable burn to Cyth’s heel, one of many burns that were sure to mark the sole as it continued down onto the city.
Nearby skyscrapers are next in line for demolition, their tall roofs cracking under the slow but unrelenting drop of weight. A particularly tall building topples over from the might of their little toe, causing it to collapse and overrun yet more structures. The crack and pop of building after building succumbing to their foot provides Cyth with only flickers of amusement, their head still deep in the frustration of having let this mission fail. At the very least, they feel confident knowing that Heaven’s authority will be maintained with this city’s destruction, sentenced to death by a single footstep.
But that footstep, Cyth suddenly finds, refuses to finish. Not one structure was strong enough to resist the footfall, and certainly no human effort could ward off their sole. Yet, something quite powerful is under their foot, holding it off in defense of what is left of the city. It pushes back with strength that gradually increases, much to the surprise of Cyth. In time, their stomp is not just stopped, but being reversed. Cyth’s balance begins to falter as whatever is beneath their foot rises, as if growing -- like a celestial.
Cyth is the first to give in, burdened with their curiosity. They relieve their foot from the city entirely, sentencing it back to the wasteland it created where it last stood. What is revealed from having been underfoot is a glowing figure, cast in an orange light that trickles across their body like electricity. The silhouette expands, just as it had been in the face of Cyth’s attack, growing large enough to rival the buildings, and then larger still. Only at this scale does Cyth recognize the menace as Oriphi, the devil unwilling to let her city be bulldozed into a foot-shaped pit.
Though hundreds of feet tall, Oriphi still has a ways to grow before matching Cyth, but does not appear intimidated by the difference in size. Her smile is cocky as she trudges out of the city, soon to outgrow it if she didn’t escape its borders. Though causing some destruction on her path out, she prides herself on succeeding in stopping the meteoric destruction. Growing bigger aptly increases her confidence, soon becoming a titan that mirrored Cyth -- and then surpassed that height.
Cyth trembles backwards, unknowingly flattening even more homes behind them. They look up worriedly at Oriphi’s increasing size, wondering if it might ever end. Fortunately, even Oriphi’s overflow of power has limits, and her growth ceases. Hundreds of thousands of feet tall, Oriphi claims a size almost double that of Cyth’s, so gargantuan that the city sits between her high-heels, each planted miles away from where she had blossomed from.
“You’ve made a critical error, angel,” Oriphi teases, placing her fists on her hips. Her voice rattles the very city she intended to protect. “And that was to underestimate me! You admittedly came close, but I never miss a deadline. That attitude is why this city can prosper with me in it. I get the job done.”
Cyth squints up at the looming giant. “This doesn’t make sense,” they say. “If you could have grown to my size, you would have done so long ago. But you don’t have enough worship from the cult to do that, do you?” It was as Cyth had concluded some time ago, that Oriphi’s powers were limited -- but here, clearly they were not. “Explain this. How can you stand like this?”
Oriphi forbids herself from giggling, so she hides a sly smile behind a long finger. “You’ve been so calm until now,” she says. “Are you losing your cool? Oh, you do look precious with that angry face of yours, angel. Perhaps it will be worth it to make you even madder~”
“Just tell me!” Cyth demands, stomping their foot for emphasis. Smaller communities that dot the hills behind the angel are disturbed by the dramatic impact, drawing even more attention to the two.
“A little help, a little boost~” Oriphi shrugs. “I have people looking out for me -- not devils, mind you, but humans. There’s an interloper between us angels and devils, if you haven’t been spending your time too leisurely to not hear of it. A dangerous and mysterious character, that one is. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and a fallen lady does not refuse the hand offering to lift her up.” Her smile persisting, Oriphi aims her head forward in a glare. “When the sky comes falling down, you too would make any agreement to set things right.”
Invaluable information to have in a dire moment of time, Cyth cherishes what was explained. The image of the doctor, donning the uniform of rescue workers, flashes to mind immediately. The interloper, they whisper to themself, realizing their involvement had to be included here. Oriphi had agreed to something, and it was likely this scene here, the ability to grow and be empowered like a truly worshipped celestial. That energy was Cyth’s, ripped from her body by that peculiar syringe, and now transplanted into Oriphi’s veins. Was that all to this deal the devil made? Or were there other factors to consider?
While Cyth contemplates their situation, Oriphi raises a leg into the air. The point of her high-heel is aimed at the shorter titan, imposing a possible attack that would strike her enemy down with thunder-like force. “By all means, dear, continue where you were!” she encourages, lazily motioning down to the city that could fit in her palm. “I hate being interrupted, and I hate interrupting. Don’t let me stop you! But do be prepared for the consequences of your decision, angel. I’ll personally drag you to Hell to make-up for whatever I lose here.”
Cyth glares back, tapping into a reserve of courage. Though facing a wicked and huge foe, it was through calm and collected thoughts that they always surmounted any obstacle. They don't know how long Oriphi will be supercharged, and they are willing to gamble that neither does Oriphi; how trustworthy could this interloper be? In any case, underestimating Oriphi in this state could not be afforded. Cyth considers all of their tactics, mindful of what was at stake…
---Even the odds by growing to Oriphi’s height before battle.
---Surrender the city and attempt to reach an agreement.
---Destroy the city while possible, disregarding Oriphi’s threat.
Clouds of smoke hover over swathes of the city like storm clouds rolled over a battlefield. Glimpses through the dreary layer of black reveal the two impossible titans standing over their homes, the two celestials responsible for all this destruction. The panic was no longer contained to the area around Brianna Smaul’s corporate building, not since the angel and devil grew out of town, a trail of chaos and demolition left in their wake. Footprints scar the streets like craters, each subsequent step larger than the last. Entire buildings were stomped into without warning, hundreds of lives lost and just as many injured, but their woes amount to just chips and dust stuck to the soles of celestial feet. Power failures leave entire blocks in darkness, fires roar from buildings that have been kicked into, sirens compete with one another to alert citizens of changing circumstances, mobs clash into riots in their struggle for survival.
The earth rumbles; another building, having already suffered significant damage, topples over from the quake. There’s never any pure rest, the world never settles under the godly pressure exerted by the tremendous giants. No matter the situation they are in, the populace always looks to the two up in the sky, unable to see the faces of those that would soon decide their fate. The city stands between their mountainous feet, each soul without a chance to escape -- so they pray. Some pray to their cult and the devils that promise to bring power to them, while others pray to Amana, wishing her to extend her protection over them. Believers of opposing faiths that cross one another in the rioting submit to violence, waging a war amongst themselves akin to the battle yet to take place above them…
Cyth looks up at their opponent, squinting into the bright blue of the sky behind their enemy. Oriphi’s smile is clear, cutting through the clouds with a cocky tilt. Her high-heel remains raised and aimed at them, ready to kick down; at a sixth of her size, Cyth would certainly be struck down hard by such a blow. Awareness of this fact is what inspires their next strategy, to even the odds and match Oriphi’s size one-to-one. Rarely was such a height ever reached for anything more than travel or convenience, but here, it would be put to use in a colossal battle that would see devastation rain across the American northwest.
“You should have admitted defeat when you had the chance, devil,” Cyth taunts as their hands come together, focusing magical energy between them. “You had the chance to slip away and regroup. Your stubbornness will only earn you punishment.”
“How come every angel I meet is as obnoxious as you?” Oriphi sighs, her smirk diminishing as she sees intimidation will not be enough. “This is your chance to escape, so don’t lecture me about stubbornness. Refuse this opportunity to flee, and you will regret it.”
Cyth is unphased by the threat, already having resolved themself to winning this fight. In the face of Oriphi’s sharp heel, Cyth knows that the playing field must be leveled, regardless of the cost. The magic they had concentrated on before now begins to swirl and encompass Cyth’s body, turning them into a golden silhouette. With a stretch, the shining image expands outward--
“Foolish!” Oriphi barks as her foot soars through the sky in its attack on Cyth. Before the golden frame could grow too large, Oriphi charged into the offensive, striking the angel straight in the chest with the heel while the sole smacks flat against Cyth’s face. The strength of Oriphi’s kick is magnified to the world around them, an explosive blast that shakes the air with its dynamite impact. Cyth hasn’t the bearings to endure the attack, far too short and distracted to defend themself.
The angel is thrown backwards, toppled off their feet and left to fall on their rear. Their ass crashes into a puddle-like lake, draining the pool almost entirely as waves are forced up onto the shore. The hit itself rattles the surrounding woods and neighborhoods, creating quakes that ripple through the earth and bring terror across multiple counties. Still recoiling from the strike, Cyth rolls onto their back, flattening smaller communities in their shadow. Even the act of stabilizing themself after such a painful blow results in towns being attacked by hands planting into the ground as to support the huge weight of the celestial.
Cyth rises, eyes locked into the eyes of their foe. Though having successfully grown larger, they had not reached Orihpi’s height, still only waist-high to the devil. Nervousness only then tickles the back of Cyth’s neck, a shiver of doubt. They had not expected to completely match Oriphi in scale, but at least bigger than this. Even accounting for the interruption, this size felt too small for what Cyth had aimed for, as if their power was lacking.
And that was in fact the case, unfortunate for Cyth to discover. While recovering their posture, Cyth listened in on the stream of prayers that resonated from earth’s people. Flickers of whispers pass their ears as they concentrate on the voices, and what they hear alarms them. There is not a chant for Heaven’s glory to succeed, but wishes for Hell to prosper. There are still cries for Cyth to rise and save humanity, but the ratio is uneven, favoring Oriphi. It is apparent to Cyth that their intervention and methods of research had injured the trust between humans and Heaven, and now, they lack the income of prayers to achieve full power.
Perhaps being aware of that disadvantage is why Oriphi’s smile returns brighter than before. She leans forward from amusement, an arm whisked over her mouth to conceal laughter that spills over it. “You’re coming up short,” she teases, her foot taking rest in a newly-created valley. She points down at Cyth with a slender finger, “I liked you smaller, anyway…”
Cyth winces from a pain in their ribs. They hug themself and hunch forward; a spell has been cast onto them. They detect the magical qualities immediately, determining it to be a shrinking spell. Oriphi wants to cut them down to size, but Cyth objects, counteracting the shrinking with continued growth. However, it isn’t enough to overrule Oriphi’s spell, and so Cyth begins to dwindle in height, slowly being drained of their titanic standing.
Now tied to a time limit, Cyth throws themself at Oriphi with an aggressive run-down. Hoping to disrupt the spell and end it sooner, they charge forward in a tackling maneuver. Their footfalls pound the earth with meteoric force, launching entire lots of land into the sky from the sheer power of every impact. Hailstorms of dirt ravage the communities that Cyth runs above, a terrible rhythm of the country shattering ringing out across the nation. The huge bodies meet in an intense collision of colossals, the city beneath them slammed by the winds conjured by their clash.
Cyth growls as their feet dig into the world, bringing rise to slopes that would become mountains for the people. Oriphi is pushed back, but maintains a sturdy posture, budging only slightly to Cyth’s attack. Any further, and the city she sought to protect would be under the angel’s feet. Oriphi pushes back, placing her hands on Cyth’s shoulders and twisting them aside. The struggle between the two is suspenseful to spectate, tens of thousands of people staring up in fear that the loser would be thrown onto them.
With Oriphi maintaining the bigger size, she is able to power through. She grunts and puts all her weight into throwing Cyth off of her legs, managing to unbalance the angel enough to ward them. Cyth gasps as they are then tripped by an unexpected kick, a motion that spurs tornado-like winds to tear through towns. Rushing to Cyth’s face then is a top-down view of a hillside community, a small town that had hoped would be far enough away from the action. The angel’s perplexed grimace is the last vision they see as it swallows their homes; dots of houses and stores disappear in a blink, crushed under an angel’s cheek.
“Stay down, now,” Oriphi suggests, strolling around the perimeter of her city. Each step is accented by a firm clap of her heels smacking the ground, dominating the city with impossible intimidation, though that much is unintended by Oriphi. “You’re embarrassing yourself at this point, in front of the entire human race~ You should be thankful that I’ll shrink you away into nothingness so no human will be ashamed of you ever again.”
Cyth huffs -- and a barn is blown away. While rising, they contemplate their next move, and realize that brute force may no longer be an option. Though able to temporarily delay some of the shrinking, Oriphi’s spell continues to take away their grand size. Only a quarter of Oriphi’s towering height, a new method would have to be approached for Cyth to prevail. The dilemma, however, was finding a viable method that required little magic, yet was somehow effective against a magically empowered foe. Of course, that math didn’t make sense, for it required greater magic to trump magic at all.
Once on their feet, Cyth accepts that reality. Without magic of their own, they would not be able to stop Oriphi. The answer, then, was to not stop Oriphi themself, but to request the aid of someone who could. Dispersing the shame of such a desperate act, Cyth closes their eyes and hums a droning tone. Though quiet to the giant ears of the celestials, this hum vibrates the air enough, falling upon humankind like a despairing melody. Oriphi glares, disliking the melody she hears, but her cockiness does not wane.
“Hm? Angry, perhaps?” Oriphi guesses, unsure what kind of spell the shrinking celestial could be trying to cast. She stands her ground, preparing to deflect yet another attack, regardless of its shape. “Humanity turns to Hell in its time of need. The influence of angels is fading. Yet you persist. Charming~ You’ll be transformed into a lovely new devil. I’ll even ask to raise you personally.”
“You could never be my master,” Cyth declares, interrupting their hum -- it was complete. “I have sworn myself already to the master of masters. Her blessing will cleanse this earth of you.”
The sky ripples as though cracking like glass. The earth no longer shivers, instead washed into a calm where all energy is aimed to the sky. Something begins to form, a sigil takes shape made of lights strewn from distant energies. A portal is being made, a connection to Heaven itself, and its traveler was soon to appear. Her presence humbles all life on earth, but Cyth is stoic, burdened by the embarrassment this all is to them. It should never come to this with any angel, yet all options had been exhausted.
Amana had been called to, and Cyth’s message had been heard. The goddess herself breaks through barriers of reality to make her grand appearance. Oriphi looks to the sky in disbelief, then turns to Cyth with rage sputtering at her lips. She expects answers, at least a hint of what to expect, but how Amana intends to share her blessing with the planet is beyond Cyth’s understanding…
--- Amana connects her magic with Cyth, imbuing them with new power.
--- Amana attacks Oriphi directly with overwhelming might.
--- Amana claims the land to resolve its conflicts under her domain.
--- Amana blinks. She observes, but does not interfere.
A nova of magic centralizes at her fingertip, drawing power from across the universe. Prayers pulled from reserves that she kept scattered across space, now pooled together into the shape of a single droplet. A radiant tear falls from her point, descending hard towards the world. It breaks through the atmosphere, dragging with it tornado winds that whip and spiral madly. Light spews from the droplet in blinding twinkles, as if a slither of the sun was being discarded onto earth. Its destination was not directionless, but aimed onto Cyth.
Impact comes in the form of a splash of light that floods the surrounding area. The city, its neighbors, the mountains, and all the twisting roads are washed harmlessly by this spillage of magic. Unlike a flood, this light does not drain away, but fades, invisibly being absorbed by the intended angel. Their body is cast into a golden silhouette, more vibrant in its shine than any shifting magic they had ever used on themself. Power ripples through their body, recharging what they had depleted and then more. As a result, they grow even taller where they stand, their feet pushed wider apart as they drive down neighborhoods, highways, and farm plots in their unstoppable extension.
The transformation disgusts Oriphi, who grimaces at the obnoxious development. Through her squint past the light, she can tell Cyth’s power has been emboldened, allowing them to match her towering height. The tides are turning, and Orihpi admits that it’s her being beached -- but if this was Amana’s blessing, then this was a great outcome. There was a chance yet to topple the enemy angel and claim victory.
Oriphi bounds over her city in a single step, the footfall of which crashes with enough force to cause an outer ring of buildings to crumble. Another massive leg swings over the city, spinning cyclones under her orange heel before it, too, crashes onto the earth with tremendous weight. The explosive impacts rattle the entire state, but with just this approach, Oriphi is in range to lunge at Cyth.
The arm-spread tackle is met with formidable resistance. Cyth catches the hands with their own, leaning against Oriphi’s aggression with all their weight. Oriphi’s momentum temporarily wins out, pushing Cyth back as their heels bulldoze more of the country. But Cyth stabilizes, their toes finding fraction when they sink deep into a riverbed. Opposing growls meet each other in the relatively short space between their faces, a sound capable of shaking the freeway and its many vehicles directly below them. Onlookers from the ground level are in complete awe at the forces above, the pressure of their fight putting whole communities on edge.
Suddenly, Cyth slips forward. One arm gives up the competition, allowing Oriphi to push forward on that one side, but in doing so, Cyth is able to weave into her embrace. Before Oriphi realizes she’s been outmaneuvered, she’s struck by a rolling shoulder, bashed into her chest. She gasps from the blow, her entire body rocked backwards, resulting in earthquakes that rattle the land as she rebalances herself. But Cyth’s aggression does not end; a follow-up attack sees Oriphi be dragged back, her impossible weight whipped back towards Cyth so that they can be pulled into a trip. A kick at Oriphi’s ankle hits like lightning, appropriately clashing above the heads of humans like a clap of a storm. Oriphi babbles as her one foot is dug out from under her, until both feet are up in the air, her entire body flipping over her head--
“Nooo!!” Oriphi yells, a booming voice that is only accented by the boom of her landing. The earth is devastated by the devil’s back which hits the surface relentlessly. Catapulted into the ground, Oriphi is pained by her own weight, her recovery far too slow to yield her any chance of a turnaround. The shockwaves of her fall blaze through that half of the country like wildfire, casting ruin onto cities one ripple at a time. Whatever life existed in the range under Oriphi was, of course, flattened into dust, abandoned as stains that dot the back of the devil’s blazer.
Across the land, everything waits to settle after the meteoric bodythrow. Clouds of smoke that overtook the sky slowly clear, unveiling the mountains that was Oriphi’s body flung into the earth. Citizens that can afford to look beyond the panic of their communities look further to see twin legs standing over the defeated, leading up to a white robe that had since been dirtied by combat. The world witnesses Cyth as the champion, but there is no heralding of victory of songs of praise in their name, but instead a dreadful constant of sirens blaring and crowds crying. Those nearest to Oriphi’s fallen form have no time to understand the outcome, thrown into a chaotic reality that desperately squirms about the landscape body.
Thundering footsteps roar as Cyth approaches closer. The task was not complete until Oriphi was soundly bested. While their foe is down, Cyth charges magical energy, a process much smoother than their attempts before. Amana’s magic yet flows through them, allowing more spells to be cast without consequence. One hand is aimed at Oriphi, palm forward; a stream of holy light burns into Oriphi, causing her to whine in agony. She shivers and writhes, but the energy that had supercharged her is dwindling. Without it, she cannot counteract Cyth’s spell, which depletes her of her enormous scale. Due to so much mass, the process is slow and unforgiving for Oriphi, left to watch the sky become distant, for the crater of her own body’s impact to swallow her on all sides. She shrinks without escape, bringing with her whatever specks of earth and its life were still stuck to her office attire.
Alone in a pit that stretches across states was Oriphi, shrunken down to a human size. The wasteland surrounding her would not hold her for long as Cyth’s second spell was then cast. Another barrier encircles Oriphi, much like the one applied to her from before. In this bubble, Cyth levitates her from off the ground, whisking her high into the sky. It was almost impossible for Cyth to see Oprihi in her prison, but the twinkle of light was there, brought to their fingertip on demand.
Oriphi reels inside the bubble, a fist punched against the surface as she stares into Cyth’s humongous eyes. She has the energy to argue and bicker, but the angel ignores her, unable to even hear the complaints. They would allow Oriphi to hover at their shoulder for the meantime; there was still one last issue to address, which Cyth turned to with a cold expression.
The city which she had come to research still stood, though in a severely damaged state. Several buildings had collapsed, either from direct attacks or simply having crumbled after so many earthquakes. Mobs ran through the streets, searching for reliable shelter when none could be provided. Many were in an escape away from the urban sprawl, though where they could run from Cyth’s reign, no human was certain. The fate for this city, however, was to be finalized. There existed no other obstacles now that Oriphi had been defeated. The choice was Cyth’s to perform Amana’s will to their understanding.
Was the city deserving of sanctuary and forgiveness, to be given the time to be cleansed of the cult’s corruption? Or had the city strayed too far from holy order, and thus destruction was their only salvation?
--- Spare the city.
--- Destroy the city.
Wind storms ravage the countryside, long after the clash of titans had ended. Panic flows through the roads like rainwater through a gutter. Emergency services trudge through traffic, hopelessly addressing fields of injuries and damages caused by the splinters of Cyth and Oriphi’s battle. It would take years for some communities to recover, if they could at all. Helicopters survey sweeps of land in despair, their lights shining through dust clouds and onto craters of destruction. Mere footsteps had devoured adjacent cities, but the cult-controlled urban sprawl yet stood -- frail and falling apart, locked-down in horror, but still it stood.
As did the celestial looming ahead. The weight of Cyth’s feet alone imposed upon the people. Toes taller than highrises guarded the south exits of town, creating jams in escape routes; spontaneous riots were had at some toes, drivers pitifully striking the skin with whatever they could in the bleak hope they might encourage it to curl aside. Cyth would not budge, not while they determined the fate of these people. They are as cold as a mountain peak while casting their judgement, weighing the value of punishment versus forgiveness.
But the answer was clear, just as it had been from the start. Cyth only wished they had resolved themself to this earlier; so much could have been avoided, but if action was delayed again, there would be yet more to follow. A flicker of regret twinges within Cyth -- they know many lives below are innocent, uncorrupted -- but the cult and its influence was to be weeded out, cut from the earth so that it could not spread. Whether these humans realize it or not, they tell themself, this is all for the better of humanity…
Cyth’s right foot hovers into the air, abandoning the earth except for what is stuck to the sole. Gravel, metal, and entire trees rain down from the loosened creases as the foot claims the skyline. All its districts, all its life; the city is hidden under their foot, already dwindled to just a memory. Panic peaks in the shadowed streets as citizens struggle to grasp their ultimate doom, many failing to comprehend how impossible it was to escape. Remnants of military stations unleash anything they have at the flat target up above, but no firepower is enough to trigger even a flinch or tickle. They could not stop Cyth now, just as they could not stop them when only a fraction of their current height.
The foot’s descent stirs an unsettling rumble. Its fall is audible, the wind splitting apart as it falls effortlessly from where it had been. The smoke of burning fires is pushed down by the sole, conjuring a black cloud that further darkens the area. Screams rise from all over, mobs forfeit themselves to cowering where they stand, wistful prayers are muttered as final farewells, and loved ones stay united in this diminishing second of life. The crack of skyscrapers spikes the volume of horrified shrieks, the pop and rupture of the rest of the skyline follows, and debris scatters through the city like a flood. All manner of noise competes in a brutal cacophony, until--
Crunch… The chaos is muffled, submerged under a powerful quake that rattles the earth. The rip and tear of explosions, the whine of metal bending, the cries of powerless citizens -- all ends under one single step, of which Cyth grants softly. They place their foot onto the city without the speed of a stomp; such a strike was unnecessary. But their foot twists into the earth, swirling the mass of land into a flat spiral of grinded remains, snuffing out any possibility of leftover cultist influence. As they did so, they pinged the crater once called a city, searching for both life and cultist power, but nothing was detected. The ground was an absolute wasteland devoid of virtually all life.
“It may take years or decades for these damages to be undone,” Cyth explains. Their voice rattles the country, heard in the furthest corners as a vague, distressing bass. “In that time, humanity should reflect upon their loyalty, and disperse the manipulation of devils from their land.”
Cyth looks to the sky. Amana’s comet eyes remain fixed in a glare towards earth. Cyth raises their arms, expelling the rush of magic that their master had imbued them with. The steam-like energy floats to the clouds, taking the shape of another portal. Their time on earth was over now that their mission was complete, and so they were to return to Heaven, into the welcoming arms of Amana. Cyth’s body levitates into the air, regardless of their obscene mass, and is drawn into the portal. They disappear, as does the circle and the all-seeing goddess in space; earth is finally freed of celestial pressure.
Just as they had risen into the portal, so too did Cyth rise from its exit. They had returned to Heaven, but what they found was not their destination. An empty plain contains them, stretching out in all directions up to rounded edges. The confusion afflicting Cyth is quickly dismissed and replaced with bewonderment. This was the goddess’s palm, a place only those summoned to could stand. Cyth is swift to bow, turning to face Amana and her humbling glory, a being so gargantuan that she conquers the sky of lights while leisurely seated within a dimensional cosmos.
“My angel Cyth,” Amana sighs. Her voice is melodic and pure, a grace to be heard despite her unbelievable size. “You were directed to earth in order to research the possibility of cultist growth.”
Cyth hesitates to reply. “Indeed, my goddess, and I determined that the city was overrun by a devil in disguise. In your name and might, I enacted purification onto the land.”
“In my name and might, you have wrought ruin and seeded disdain for Heaven’s rule.” Amana’s voice pushes Cyth with a blunt strike. Cyth raises their head from its bow, ambushed by this judgement. “Your methods have collapsed the loyalty of millions under my domain. Many of those lost will now turn to Hell for refuge. Your mistakes resulted in near-catastrophe, and only with my intervention were you saved.”
Cyth stutters, “I-I… thank you, my goddess. W-Without you, that battle may have grown worse, f-for our cause. But... “ They wince, realizing they have little to offer, except for just a little devil. They look to their hand, a finger -- at its end is the bubble containing Oriphi, slumped into a round corner of her prison. Cyth looks back to Amana, “But I have brought--”
“--shame. You have brought shame to all angels.” Amana interrupts, her immensity and rank so overwhelming that she need not raise her volume. “The future ahead on earth now foresees greater friction between humans and my agents. There will be less prayers to draw magic from, increased resistance to the work of angels, and clashes between worshippers will become more common. This disorder you have caused cannot be without punishment, Cyth.”
Cyth stands, but their legs quiver. “M-My goddess… I-I will accept any punishment,” they meekly submit, “b-but I beg for mercy… I acted only in your interests. My initiative was misaimed, but it was genuine. I only sought to empower Heaven’s rule!” But these excuses unphased the peerless ruler. Amana remained cold and distant, her mind already settled on a decision. Cyth stammered to create an argument, but everything felt like a dry excuse -- except, they remembered, one interaction. The interloper, so Oriphi had called them. Their involvement with the events on earth were worthy of concern, and perhaps Cyth’s window of being spared. “My goddess--”
“You will be banished from my realm,” Amana decides. Cyth gasps and their eyes widen in horror, but no expression can move Amana. Her fingers curl towards her palm, surrounding Cyth with tree-like limbs that cage them into the goddess’s grip. “You will be stripped of your holy connection. Your immortality will be voided. You will be unable to communicate with or enter Heaven. You will no longer be my angel -- you shall be sentenced to live among humanity, or die on their world.”
“Th-There is more you fail to understand, Amana!” Cyth spits. They take into a sprint towards the goddess’s arm, hoping to escape the swallowing clutches. “You must listen to me! An interloper i-is among the humans, sided with neither Heaven nor Hell! They pose a threat to our system!”
But Amana would spare nothing. Her hand closes into a fist, sealing Cyth into a magical hold. Her grip tightens, and when the fingers unfold, only a gold dust remains, whipped away by celestial wind. The angel was no more, gone without a scream or shout, their mystical abilities filtered from their form. Cyth’s banishment is conclusive, and Amana quietly despairs over this loss.
---
The earth, the year 2016. The morning sun had not yet surpassed the horizon, leaving life in the Netherlands tranquil and low. A fog drifts through the streets, hiding all but one coffee shop. Its lights make it a beacon, the only business that would be open so early. Even at this hour, it was unlikely to see any customers, but one had waited for them outside their doors. A lone person garbed in a heavy coat, their face partially veiled by a tall collar and long, raven hair.
Their order still steams as it's taken to their booth by a server. The person nods and slides the coffee closer, but does not drink. Their eyes, hidden by aviators, scan the window and the river outside. The rest of the city on the other side remains still as ice, waiting to be shaken from their perch.
A tiny figure only inches tall crawls up the coffee cup, her legs kicking in an attempt to peer over the lip. “Ugh…! Errgh!” she grunts in her efforts, but she fails to reach the drink. Instead, her flailing causes the cup to sway, and a splash of coffee spills over one side as she falls from its edge. The tiny woman, dressed in business attire, hits the table hard with her rear.
“You’re going to make a mess doing that,” Cyth sighs, putting her hand around the cup to balance it. “Besides, it must be too hot to even enjoy. It’s still steaming.”
“I’m a devil, didja forget?” Oriphi snidely replies, rolled onto her back in defeat. “I don’t burn. We both lost out magic, but only one of us lost their celestial blood, remember?”
“Thank you for the reminder. In that case…” Cyth plucks Oriphi off the table by a leg, callously dangling her over the cup before dropping her in. Oriphi squeals as she’s released, but the coffee washes away her complaints, turning them into bubbles. Her head whips up when she resurfaces soon after, clearly unaffected by the temperature, but obviously bothered by being soaked. “Enjoy your coffee.”
“Cunt.” Oriphi glares at her vague reflection in the coffee, then lowers her head to drink from it. Its flavor is bold and bitter, which Oriphi disapproves of. “I miss my soy lattes,” she reminisces aloud, supporting herself at the cup’s lip. “I used to have one delivered to my desk, everyday. A simple pleasure to get my day started. Cue one obnoxious angel, and…”
Cyth dismisses her with a push from her finger, dislodging her off the lip and into the pool once more. They had dwelled well enough on their history, and had heard Oriphi’s take on the matter more than once over the past three months. Banishment was cruel and boring, but whether Oriphi’s addition made it better or worse, Cyth had yet to conclude. In any case, the devil was a necessary component, regardless of how she complained or how tiny Amana’s punishment had left her. In some regards, having a tiny devil to poke and prod kept Cyth’s angelic sanity stable -- on the other hand, Oriphi was still immortal by blood, and so killing her when she got too annoying was impossible, and so every complaint had to be endured.
But that was what drove Cyth to this city, found in the Netherland’s center. Magic and blood may have been stricken from them, but Cyth yet retained their memories, their knowledge. Though they walked on the same earth as humans and obeyed the same laws as humans, Cyth knew they were a holy agent. That was their truth, and they held onto that belief, willing to do what was necessary to reclaim it. Amana, they schemed, would be proven wrong for banishing them. They would return to Heaven without the goddess’s connection, without prayers or reality-bending powers. They wanted to return home, where they belong.
Enough time had passed, and Cyth stands from the booth. They whisk the coffee cup with them, bringing Oriphi along inside. The devil splashes from side to side, but they hardly throw a complaint about it. She knows of Cyth’s goals and what lies ahead. Their opportunity has come, and it was time to move forward, to take the first leap in regaining their celestial rights.
Cyth exits the shop and into the fog. As they cross a bridge over the river, a spark of light breaks up the morning sky. Above the sunrise, overlooking a wide stretch of the city, is a celestial portal. While homes flare up in confusion and concern, Cyth continues confidently. “Right on schedule…”