Liquid darkness. Absolute silence. 

Axiel was submerged in the arcane pool, but did not know if he still breathed. Time did not exist there - memories that were not yours, emotions without owner, and the constant feeling of being between heaven and hell. 

There, in the depths of the mind and the past, images designed as living paintings: 

A heavenly field of golden light. Arkaaniel - Radiant, with four wings made of crystal and eyes of incandescent light - fought alongside an inhuman beauty woman, with flutty silver hair and ivory skin. Both wore translucent armor, forged by its own creation. 

They hunted a fallen angel. 

A being of broken wings, skin marked by black scars and a cracked halo. The battle was absurd. Rays cut the sky, planets trembled in the distance. 

The woman - once bright and kind - changed. Her eyes shone in red, her wings became flabbeds, and her shape deafened. It became a monstrously beautiful, flaming and animalistic entity. 

She was no longer an angel. It was Sekhmet. 

The Sekhmet. 

It was the name of Malak's sword, but he was walking like a woman with burning hair. 

She dug her claws in Arkaaniel's chest, making the "angel of light" stagger. 

And then - the vision has changed. 

Axiel saw Loriel, adult, but youthful, unlike anything she knew: her hair was long, her clothes was a black heavenly robe studded with stars. He cried on his knees as angels fell around him. 

A heavenly of black skin and rubber wings was torn by others of its species. 

- I love you...? whispered Loriel, squeezing the body of that dying angel. 

So Axiel saw himself, not yet as a vampire, but as an essence. A light that fell on fire, like a condemned comet. 

And in the end, a disturbing image: a vampire killed in sacrifice. Embedded in a temple where he had woken up. And behind him, a wall of flames ... with Sekmet's countenance roaring of hatred, attached to a sword. Other celestials falling like comets, and singing of supplications dominated the heavens. 

In another temple room, far from there, Loriel and Nyalan talked low. 

- So will he find out? If I knew it was you, I would never have helped him. Nyalah asked, looking out the window, feeling the aura of being able to increase. 

- Forget it. replied Loriel, with empty eyes. 

- Sekhmet is chained ... You know this, she is the only one that can today in the current state to overthrow your brother. 

"For me, the two can kill themselves, honestly ..." Loriel said, for the first time without sarcasm or irony. - Arkaaniel owes me. They all owe me. For all. By ... he. 

- Axiel didn't deserve it. 

- Axiel never deserved any of this! He did nothing wrong, he even covered them, but they ... They shattered them, none of them deserve forgiveness ... - Loriel exploded, so hard that an ehereal wave traveled the temple, making old bells tilint alone. 

Nyalan, shaken, and fearing Loriel's fury, lowered his head. 

- I understand your pain lady, I also lost the love of my life, in the past. And life was never the same. 

"I ..." Loriel said, the anger overflowing in his silver eyes. - I admire you, Nyalan. I am weak. I will not endure another century like that. Without it, and attached to this body. For me, I will call the heavenly of the apocalypse myself, and destroy this cycle. 

Iris, who passed the hall, heard the hidden conversation. She paled to hearing Nyalan calling Loriel "goddess of the moon," begging on her knees that she did not bring destruction to the world. 

- There are innocents, Mrs. Loriel ... There are so many who still have hope ... 

- I know, but... 

Iris fled the scene, the heart fired. 

Inside the pool, Axiel's symbiote regenerated. The costume plates emerged as a living metal around their muscles. The wings reopened, now with pulsating rubber details, and bright symbols dripped on his skin like a frozen washing. 

He heard a voice inside him - severe, serene, male. 

"It's not time to know everything, Axiel ... But Sekhmet can destroy Arkaaniel." Her fire is old. More than the sun. It needs a channel ... and her body is not ideal. But the paladin ... is. 

- Help Sekhmet. Or the world dies before dawn. 

Axiel opened his eyes with a sigh. 

Before him, Aurelia, the princess of Solarius, watched him in silence. The steam climbed between them as a sacred veil. 

She seemed about to talk when Elena entered the room. 

- What is happening? He asked, frowning. 

Axiel raised, now dressed in his armor completely restored. He ignored Aurelia's interrogator and turned to Elena. 

- We need Malak. And his sword. 

- Sekhmet? Elena asked confused. 

- Sekhmet needs a body. And Arkaaniel ... need to die. 

Axiel's gaze was lost in the sky through the magical dome of the temple. A shooting star crossed the firmament. But he knew, inside him: it was not a star. It was a warning. 

The real war was just beginning.