REPENTANCE stood amidst the scattered, glowing shards of its own wing. It pulsed with that blinding, holy light, and slowly, impossibly, the stained glass began to re-form. The shards lifted from the ground, knitting themselves back together into the geometric, celestial construct.
< Protect The Pure Virgin. > The emotionless voice rang in Zac's head again, louder this time. < Destroy The Demonic Evildoers. Protect The Pure Virgin Lamb. >
The simulacrum raised its wooden gavel, turning its faceless visor back toward Zac.
Then, a howl ripped through the scene, a sound of such raw, desperate defiance that it seemed to vibrate the very stone of the ridge.
Zac opened his tear-filled eyes.
Marchosias was standing.
His black plate armor was dented and scored with Bicorn blood, and he favored his right leg, leaning heavily on it, but he was upright. He held his dark steel longsword extended, pointing it directly at the chest of the angelic construct.
"MARCH, RUN!" Zac screamed, his voice tearing his throat. "PLEASE! JUST RUN AWAY!"
Marchosias didn't even look back at him. His amber eyes were locked onto the simulacrum, blazing with a terrible, suicidal resolve.
"I AM NOT THE VIRGIN!" the Wolf Captain howled back, his voice echoing over the roar of the distant battle. "IT DOESN'T MATTER IF I DIE! YOU NEED TO BE PROTECTED!"
The simulacrum spun slowly to face Marchosias, its movements frictionless and perfectly balanced.
< Sinner Detected. Defend The Virgin. Exorcise The Evil. >
The faux-angel lowered its massive gavel and began to walk toward the Wolf Captain. Marchosias bared his fangs, a low, rumbling growl tearing from his throat as he dragged his crushed left leg backward, desperately trying to lock himself into a steady defensive stance. His armor groaned in protest, the metal dented and warped.
"Just run," Zac whimpered from his spot against the boulder, his voice barely a breath. He pulled his knees tighter to his chest, trembling violently. "I'm not worth saving."
Zac watched the clash through tear-filled eyes, his heart shattering as the fight played out. It was completely one-sided. Marchosias inhaled deeply, unleashing a torrent of his silver, annihilating fire, but REPENTANCE merely raised its stained-glass wings. The holy construct absorbed the flames effortlessly, the glass panels drinking in the light and glowing brighter.
March swung his longsword with all his might, but his ruined leg weighed him down. The simulacrum was impossibly fast, its massive wooden gavel weaving through the air to swat the heavy steel blade aside like a toy.
With a sickening thud, the flat of the gavel caught Marchosias in the ribs. The Wolf Captain was knocked backward, tumbling through the bloody dirt.
He didn't stay down. Marchosias pushed himself up on shaking arms. He planted his boots in the mud, clenching his gauntleted fists so hard the metal shrieked. His grey fur stood completely on end, bristling with a terrifying, desperate energy.
Then, the blinding white light erupted.
Two radiant, geometric wings of pure, solid light burst outward from Marchosias's back. A choked, agonizing howl ripped from his throat, the sound of a creature being torn apart from the inside out, as he staggered back to his feet.
"Stop it," Zac whispered, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks.
Marchosias redoubled his efforts, launching himself at the construct. It was as if the wings had supercharged his failing body. He was faster, stronger, moving as a blur of dark steel and blinding light. CLANG! CLANG! His sword met the massive gavel blow for blow, parrying strikes that should have crushed him and driving the simulacrum backward.
For a fleeting second, a spark of hope ignited in Zac's chest. He's doing it. He's actually fighting it back.
But then the Wolf Captain spun to dodge a sweeping blow, exposing his back to Zac.
The hope died, replaced by shock and dread.
The glowing angelic wings were destroying the wolf. The holy magic was utterly incompatible with his demonic form. Zac watched in revulsion as the thick, enchanted black armor on March's back literally melted, dripping down his sides like hot wax. Beneath the slagging metal, his grey fur and flesh were actively burning away, charred black and smoldering down to the muscle and bone right where the radiant wings sprouted from his shoulder blades. He was immolating himself to save a human who had done nothing but mock him.
The angel and the demon clashed again. Marchosias ducked under a crushing overhead swing, stepping inside the construct's guard. With a vicious grunt, he slammed the wolf-head pommel of his sword directly into the simulacrum's side, following it up with a brutal, driving shove with his broad shoulder.
REPENTANCE actually stumbled, its pristine porcelain feet sliding backward in the dirt.
But as Marchosias shifted his weight to press the advantage, his crushed left leg finally gave out completely. His knee buckled, and the Captain lost his footing, stumbling awkwardly into the mud.
The simulacrum didn't hesitate. It regained its balance instantly, its smooth body beginning to pulse with that terrifying, incandescent light.
< Purge. >
A second holy nova detonated. The shockwave of divine energy erupted point-blank, hitting Marchosias with the force of a bomb. The Wolf Captain was knocked violently away, his armored body skipping across the rocky ground like a thrown stone before finally coming to a devastating, motionless halt.
REPENTANCE slowly turned away from the fallen Wolf Captain. It raised its pristine, white hand, reaching out for Zac once more.
< Protect The Virgin. Protect The Innocent. Protect The Pure. >
Zac didn't scramble away this time. He sat slumped against the jagged obsidian boulder, his eyes bloodshot and swollen, his face streaked with dirt and tears. He looked up at the towering, faceless construct, his voice raw and scraping like sandpaper.
"If you touch me, you're going to regret it," Zac snarled, a dark, venomous promise bleeding into his words. "I'm going to destroy the entire fucking Holy City."
The simulacrum paused, its head tilting slightly. The emotionless voice chimed in his mind, processing the threat with chilling, mechanical logic.
< Trauma Response Detected. Human Brain Is Damaged From Demonic Torture. Begin Consoling. >
The angel reached its hand down further, its golden visor reflecting Zac's broken, leopard-print form.
< Who Is A Good Boy? > the voice hummed inside his skull. < You Are. You Are A Good Boy. >