[Third Person Pov]
As Annabeth entered Solomon's tomb, the heavy doors behind her swung shut with a resonant thud, cutting off the distant clamor of battle that had reignited outside with the angels. The sudden silence wrapped around her like a thick blanket, leaving only the faint echo of her own footsteps in the vast chamber.
She kept her [Mystic Insight] activated the entire time, her eyes glowing faintly with its power as she observed the room carefully. The space was dark and oppressive, illuminated only by a single narrow beam of light that pierced down from some hidden source high above, striking directly onto the ornate coffin positioned at the far end of the chamber. Dust motes danced lazily in that golden ray, giving the air a hazy, almost sacred quality.
Annabeth strolled forward with her hands tucked casually into the pockets of her oversized sweater, taking relaxed, unhurried steps. The only sound in the enclosed space was the soft scuff of her shoes against the stone floor. She crossed the distance at a measured pace, then climbed the short flight of worn stairs leading up to the raised platform where the coffin rested.
She reached out and placed a hand on the cool surface of the coffin, her fingers brushing across the intricate carvings. Slowly, she began swiping away layers of accumulated dust, revealing the ancient patterns beneath. Gripping the edge of the heavy lid with both hands, she prepared to lift it open. But just before she could apply any real force, she felt the unmistakable pressure of a blade pressing against the back of her neck, cold and unyielding.
"I commend you for making it this far," a deep, resonant voice intoned from behind her, "but I will not allow you to disturb the resting place of the King of Wisdom."
Annabeth glanced over her shoulder, turning just enough to get a proper look at the divine being standing there. He wore a flowing white hood that completely concealed his face, and in his grip he wielded a magnificent sword composed of pure light intertwined with flickering golden flames. Two sets of radiant wings extended from his back, glowing with holy energy.
'An archangel, huh,' she remarked dryly to herself, taking in the sight of those wings with a slight tilt of her head.
Her eyes began to water as she turned more fully toward him, her expression shifting into one of desperate vulnerability. "Please," she pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion, "my father is dying. I've searched everywhere for a solution, but the gods… they're so cruel and merciless. They don't care about us, about mortals at all." Thick streams of tears ran down her cheeks as she continued, her shoulders trembling slightly. "I need the help of Ars Goetia. It's my father's last hope of being cured. He's the only family I have left. Without him, I'm all alone in this world."
The archangel remained unmoved. "Do you believe me to be a fool?" he sneered, his grip tightening on the hilt of his weapon. Annoyance radiated from him as he saw through her performance. "I can see right through your deception."
Annabeth turned her head to the side and clicked her tongue in clear annoyance. She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her sleeve and began to grumble under her breath. "It was honestly worth a shot. Come on, admit it—my acting was solid."
"I'll allow you the opportunity to leave," the archangel continued, his tone firm but not yet hostile. "You are prohibited from this place by the Celestial Court. You are young, so I understand you might be curious and reckless. Please do not force my hand. Comply and depart in peace."
Annabeth simply smiled, the tears already drying on her face. "Nah, I don't want to."
"Very well," the angel replied. He reached forward in an attempt to grab her arm and escort her out. However, the moment his fingers made contact, her skin began to crack and crumble like dried clay. Her entire body revealed itself to be nothing more than an animated mud doll, cleverly crafted to mimic her appearance.
A glowing sigil flared to life over the doll's chest, pulsing with intense energy. It detonated in a focused blast of raw power that engulfed the archangel completely. The explosion hurled him backward toward the center of the room, where he stabilized himself behind a shimmering golden shield. Wisps of smoke curled through the air around the barrier as the force of the blast dissipated.
There was a clear hint of annoyance beneath the shadows of his hood. "No more games," the archangel declared. He raised his sword and aimed its tip toward the ground. "I command you to reveal yourself!"
As he slammed the blade into the stone floor, a blinding light erupted outward in every direction, flooding every corner of the tomb with purifying radiance. The intense glow washed over the chamber, disrupting all forms of concealment.
The archangel snapped his head upward. Annabeth's veiling ward had been shattered. She was standing upside down on the ceiling, her sweater swaying slightly with the inverted gravity of her position. "Wasn't expecting to be found so quickly," she said with a casual shrug. "Oh well… I suppose it's time to improvise."
She reached into her pouch, pulled out another lollipop, and popped it into her mouth. As she did so, geometric shapes and magical constructs began to materialize in the air around her, glowing with intricate patterns of power. The space around them started to warp and shift under the influence of the new ward she had constructed. The chamber elongated dramatically, multiplying outward until the entire room transformed into what felt like an endless expanse filled with towering pillars stretching into infinity.
"You know, I once faced a demon duke," Annabeth sighed, reminiscing as she adjusted the lollipop in her mouth. "I was taken down so fast I was honestly humiliated by how outclassed I was."
"Why are you telling me this, witch?" the archangel demanded. He shifted into a defensive stance, his wings flaring slightly while his gaze carefully mapped the altered surroundings, searching for any sign of weakness or trap.
"Although you might not amount to a duke," Annabeth replied with a mischievous grin, "I'm going to use you to at least redeem myself. Thank you for your community service."
Annabeth dropped from the ceiling with effortless grace, twisting mid-air as she descended. A shimmering protective ward materialized around her right arm, condensing rapidly into the form of a glowing gauntlet that crackled with reinforced magical energy. She dove straight toward the archangel like a comet, fist cocked back for a devastating strike.
The archangel reacted instantly, vanishing in a flash of holy light and teleporting directly above her. Annabeth's gauntleted fist slammed into the stone floor instead, the impact shattering the ground beneath her in a wide crater of fractured tiles and rising dust. The protective ward on her arm dispersed in a spray of fading sparks from the force of the collision.
Without missing a beat, the two engaged at full force. The archangel unleashed a sweeping arc of his flaming sword, sending a roaring wave of golden holy fire cascading toward her. Annabeth countered by thrusting both hands forward, rapid geometric wards forming in front of her like layered shields. She met the holy flames head-on, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
One of her newly formed wards flared brightly as it absorbed the incoming holy fire completely, pulling the energy into itself rather than letting it burn through. The ward pulsed once, then redirected the captured flames back at the archangel with double the intensity, the blast now tinged with her own chaotic magic that made the fire burn darker and hotter.
The archangel raised his sword to block, but the redirected attack still scorched across his left wing, searing feathers and leaving blackened, smoking edges. He retaliated immediately, teleporting behind her and driving his blade downward in a piercing thrust of concentrated light. Annabeth spun, creating a spinning ward disc that deflected the strike, though the sheer power behind it sent her skidding backward across the endless pillared space.
The battle accelerated into a frantic exchange. Annabeth hurled a barrage of crackling energy orbs from her fingertips, each one exploding on impact with bursts of raw arcane force. The archangel answered with sweeping slashes that released cutting beams of divine light, slicing through pillars and forcing Annabeth to weave between them. She erected a quick barrier ward that absorbed one of the light beams, converting part of its energy into a counter-pulse that she fired back as a lance of mixed silver and gold energy.
The archangel took the hit directly to his shoulder, the force tearing through his white robes and drawing a deep, cauterized gash that leaked radiant blood. In return, he closed the distance with blinding speed and landed a solid kick to her midsection, his holy flames igniting across her sweater and burning into her skin. Annabeth grunted in pain but used the momentum to roll away, slapping a regenerative ward over the wound even as fresh burns blistered across her ribs.
They traded blows without pause. Annabeth summoned a chain of floating ward circles that rotated around her like a defensive carousel, each one absorbing incoming holy attacks and redirecting them at unpredictable angles. One such ward caught a massive downward slash from the archangel's sword, absorbed the golden flames, and hurled them back amplified, striking him across the chest and leaving a deep, smoking laceration that cut through muscle and bone.
The archangel roared and pressed the assault, teleporting in rapid succession to strike from multiple directions. His sword grazed Annabeth's thigh, cheeks, arm, shoulder leaving a severe burning cut that nearly severed the muscle. She hissed through gritted teeth, blood soaking her clothes, but responded by slamming her palm against the floor and activating her [Geomancy]. Pillars erupted violently from the transformed space, crashing into the archangel and pinning one of his wings momentarily while she followed up with a point-blank blast of concentrated magic that exploded against his torso.
Fatal injuries mounted on both sides as the fight grew more desperate and fast-paced. Blood trickled from the corner of Annabeth's mouth from an internal injury after a brutal elbow strike from the angel. A long slash ran down her left arm, courtesy of his flaming blade. The archangel fared no better—his once-pristine white robes hung in tatters, deep gashes crossed his chest and arms, and one of his wings drooped at an unnatural angle, feathers scorched and torn.
Annabeth bit the lollipop down into her mouth mid-exchange, the casual act contrasting sharply with the chaos around them. "You call those attacks, my boyfriend hits me harder than that!" she taunted between breaths, creating yet another absorption ward that drank in a storm of holy light before flinging it back at him with triple the force this time.
…
"Don't freaking say that!" Lucian shouting into the crystal ball, "It makes me look horrible!"
…
The archangel shattered through one of her barriers with raw power, his sword plunging forward again. "Your arrogance will be your end, witch," he growled, though his voice carried strain from the accumulating damage.
The two continued their whirlwind confrontation, attacks blurring together in a relentless storm of fire, light, magic, and wards, neither willing to yield an inch in the endless pillared expanse of the transformed tomb.
Annabeth danced backward through the forest of pillars, her fingers already weaving through rapid hand signs as she channeled alchemy into the fight. She clapped her palms together, then separated them with a sharp twist, drawing glowing transmutation circles in the air that flared to life. The stone floor beneath the archangel rippled and transformed into grasping hands of hardened marble that clamped around his ankles, attempting to crush bone.
The archangel snarled and countered with a booming divine command. "By the authority of the Throne, be still!" His words carried holy weight, shattering the alchemical constructs instantly and sending a shockwave of light that sliced across Annabeth's side, opening a deep, jagged wound that sprayed blood across the floor.
She hissed in pain but didn't stop. Blood soaked her sweater and pants now, fresh crimson mixing with the older burns and gashes. Annabeth formed another series of hand signs, faster this time, the stick of her eaten lollipop shifting from one side of her mouth to the other. A complex ritual circle bloomed beneath her feet as she slammed both hands onto the ground. The alchemy activated violently—pillars around them melted and reshaped into razor-sharp spears of obsidian that launched toward the angel from every direction.
The archangel spread his wings and roared another command. "I command you to burn!" Golden flames exploded outward in a perfect sphere, incinerating most of the spears mid-flight. The remaining few that broke through cut deep into his torso and thigh, drawing radiant golden blood that spilled heavily. He teleported forward and drove his flaming sword into Annabeth's left shoulder, twisting the blade savagely. She cried out as the holy fire seared through muscle and bone, blood pouring down her arm in thick rivulets.
The fight grew uglier and more brutal with every exchange. Annabeth retaliated by pressing her bloodied palm against the angel's chest and triggering an alchemical explosion at point-blank range. The blast tore open his robes further and cracked several ribs, golden ichor spraying across her face. She followed up with another ritual, forming hand signs so quickly her fingers blurred, turning the blood on the floor into corrosive acid that bubbled up and ate at the angel's legs.
He answered with unrelenting divine commands, each one laced with more power than the last. "Be purified!" A beam of searing light punched through Annabeth's stomach, leaving a cauterized hole that made her stagger. "Kneel before heaven!" Another command forced her down to one knee momentarily, her body screaming from the accumulating damage—deep lacerations across her back, a broken rib, and multiple burns that left her skin blackened and raw.
Yet she kept pushing, using every drop of blood and every moment of chaos to fuel her ritual work. The entire battlefield had become her canvas.
Finally, Annabeth came to a deliberate stop in the center of the transformed chamber, breathing heavily, blood dripping steadily from multiple wounds onto the stone at her feet. The archangel, equally battered and leaking golden blood from deep gashes across his chest, arms, and wings, saw his opening. He charged forward with a roar, sword raised for the killing strike.
As he thrust the blade toward her throat, Annabeth took one calm step backward. The flaming sword halted abruptly—an inch from her skin. The blade trembled violently in the angel's grip as he strained with all his might, but it refused to move forward even a fraction.
Confusion flashed across the hidden face beneath the hood. "What… is this?"
Annabeth smirked, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. At that moment, glowing chains of alchemical silver and crimson light revealed themselves all around them, erupting from the floor and wrapping tightly around the archangel's limbs, torso, and wings. The chains dug into his flesh, drawing more golden blood as they constricted.
"What did you do, witch?!" the archangel bellowed, struggling furiously against the bindings.
Annabeth wiped blood from her chin with the back of her hand, still smiling despite the pain. "First off, thank you. Seriously. I couldn't have pulled this off without you." She gestured lazily at the devastated battlefield. "I turned our entire battle into a ritual. Every clash, every spell, every drop of blood we spilled across this floor helped complete the circle. Your holy power mixed with my alchemy created the perfect catalyst."
She straightened up slightly, ignoring the burning pain in her shoulder. "Thanks to all that lovely effort, we've built a banishment ritual strong enough to send you straight back to Heaven."
The archangel snarled, his wings straining uselessly against the chains. "You're making a grave mistake, girl. There is a reason I was assigned to guard Solomon's tomb. After Solomon himself, the heavens prohibited anyone from acquiring the Ars Goetia. It is far too much power for any single mortal to wield. Should you claim it, you will be marked—branded as an enemy of Heaven itself."
A tense silence fell between them for a few heartbeats.
Annabeth blinked once, processing his words. Then her face lit up with a bright, genuine beam of excitement. "That sounds like a wonderful time."
She gave him a cheerful little wave with her less injured hand. "Buh-bye! Let's do this again some day!"
In the next instant, the ritual circles across the floor and ceiling ignited with blinding radiance. The chains flared white-hot, and with a thunderous crack that shook the endless pillared space, the archangel was wrenched upward in a column of light. His roar of fury echoed briefly before he vanished completely, banished back to the celestial realm.
The light faded, leaving Annabeth standing alone in the middle of the chamber, bloodied, bruised, but victorious. She let out a long breath, popped a new lollipop into her mouth, and turned her gaze toward the undisturbed coffin at the far end of the room.
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