The dense smoke thinned as the fire's roar ebbed into crackling embers, leaving the battlefield eerily quiet. Arlo lowered his arm from shielding his face, eyes narrowing as he scanned for movement. His breath hitched when he spotted a smear of gold blood trailing through the dust.
A single drop of angelic blood.
Gabriel stood motionless in the dissipating flames. A thin line of crimson trickled from his temple, tracing the curve of his chiseled jaw. He lifted a hand and wiped it away with cold disdain. His eyes, sharp as tempered blades, locked onto Arlo with a fury that boiled over into something darker something more dangerous.
"Pathetic," Gabriel hissed, his voice laced with contempt.
"You actually believe you've accomplished something? A mere mortal… making me bleed." His words dripped with disdain, each syllable a hammer to the confidence Arlo had carefully built.
Arlo tightened his grip on the Pit Viper, his pulse hammering like a metronome set to danger imminent.
"Yeah, well, that's kind of my thing. Poking gods with a stick until they notice me." His smirk didn't quite reach his eyes, but his Clown ability masked the crack in his resolve.
Gabriel's wings flared wide, the metallic sheen reflecting the fiery remains of the explosion. "You won't survive another moment, fool."
Before the archangel could unleash the full brunt of his divine wrath, a blinding pillar of light descended from the sky. The heavens groaned as if splitting apart, and the oppressive darkness lifted.
Arlo's HUD pinged frantically, but he ignored it, shielding his gaze from the celestial brilliance.
When the light receded, another figure stood between them—tall, radiant, and unmistakably familiar.
"Michael?" Gabriel's voice cracked with disbelief.
Michael, now fully adorned in his angelic form, his armor glimmering with ethereal gold, regarded his brother with a calm that could part seas. His sword, a masterpiece of divine craftsmanship, hummed with latent energy. "You have failed, Gabriel."
Gabriel clenched his fists, the mace trembling with restrained fury. "I carried out his command. I obeyed. You betrayed him."
Michael's eyes softened, sorrow shadowing his celestial features.
"I gave him what he needed, not what he asked for." He stepped forward, raising his blade.
Gabriel lunged, but the battle was over in a heartbeat. Michael's sword arced with fluid precision, and the clash of divine steel against hardened will reverberated through the desert.
Sparks ignited as Gabriel's mace shattered from the force.
The impact sent Gabriel staggering. He fell to his knees, breathing hard, wings drooping in defeat. The silence between the brothers stretched like a taut wire.
"Finish it," Gabriel rasped, his voice hollow.
Michael's blade hovered an inch from his neck.
"No." He stepped back.
Gabriel said "I would have shown no mercy."
"That is why I still serve, and you do not." Michael's tone carried the weight of eons.
Gabriel looked up, eyes burning with unspoken words. Then, without another sound, he spread his battered wings and ascended into the sky, disappearing into the stars.
Arlo watched him go, every muscle in his body trembling from exhaustion.
When Michael turned toward him, Arlo managed a breathless laugh. "Cutting it a bit close, weren't you?"
Michael's lips curled into the barest hint of a smile. "You fought well, Arlo. I was granted permission to come… just in time."
His gaze swept toward the cars where Jeep and the others waited. "But my task here is done."
Jeep stepped forward. "You're leaving? Where are you going?"
Michael placed a hand on Jeep's shoulder. "You are the protector now. Trust yourself."
"Will we see you again?" Jeep asked, hope tinging his words.
"Have faith," Michael replied before he ascended, a streak of light vanishing into the heavens.
Arlo said to Jeep. "Your turn to be the hero. Go. They need you."
Jeep replied and grinned. "Thanks for everything, Arlo."
"Don't mention it." Arlo turned, his silhouette framed by the dying embers of a long-fought battle. He exhaled deeply, whispering to the stars, "And the war goes on."
....
Jeep watched Arlo with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "Where are you going now?"
Arlo sighed, wiping dust from his coat as if brushing off the weight of recent events.
"My job was to keep the savior safe until now. That job's done," he said, his voice calm but tired. "It's time for me to move on."
Jeep furrowed his brow, stepping closer. "You've been with us through everything. You don't have to go alone."
Arlo smiled faintly, a flicker of weariness in his eyes. "I'm not really the stick-around type," he admitted.
He pulled the key from his pocket and tossed it to Jeep with a smooth, underhand throw. "Take the bike. You'll need it more than I do. The world's a different place now, and speed might be the difference between life and death."
Jeep caught the key with one hand and held it tightly. "Thank you," he said, voice thick with emotion.
"Don't mention it," Arlo replied. He looked toward the horizon where Charlie, Kyle, Audrey, and the rest of the group had begun their slow, uncertain journey to a safer future. "Just get them somewhere safe. The baby needs people, not just a protector. He'll need a family."
Jeep nodded. "I'll make sure of it. You can count on me."
Arlo's smile didn't fade, but a heaviness hung behind it.
"I know you will," he said. "Go on, now. They're waiting for you."
Jeep turned, striding toward the waiting car where the others beckoned. He glanced back once more, raising his hand in a final wave. "Good luck, Arlo."
"Same to you," Arlo whispered as Jeep disappeared into the distance.
Arlo stood alone in the aftermath, the weight of the battle pressing down on him like a physical force. The adrenaline that had kept him moving, fighting, and smiling through the chaos was ebbing away, leaving behind a hollow ache in his chest. His hands trembled slightly as he stared at the dried blood caked in the cracks of his fingers. He clenched his fists, the sting of his wounds grounding him in the moment.
"This was the closest yet," he muttered to himself, his voice low and rough. "One step from oblivion."
The words hung in the air, heavy with the truth he couldn't ignore. He had faced Gabriel, an archangel, a being so far beyond mortal comprehension that even scratching him felt like a miracle. Arlo knew the odds had been stacked against him from the start. Without the foreknowledge that Michael would intervene, he wouldn't have dared to stand against Gabriel. Even then, stalling for time had been a gamble—a roll of the dice with his life as the wager.
"I gambled everything,"he murmured, his voice barely audible over the faint crackle of dying embers. "I accepted my fate. I stood there, smiling like an idiot, knowing I might not walk away."
The memory of Gabriel's mace swinging toward him flashed in his mind, the sheer force of it enough to shatter mountains. Arlo had faced that power head-on, not because he was fearless, but because he had no other choice. He had accepted the possibility of death, embraced it even, as part of the role he had to play.
"I was at the mercy of fate," he whispered, his gaze drifting to the horizon where Gabriel had vanished. "But I kept fighting. I kept smiling. Like a good little clown."
The Acting Method of the Clown echoed in his mind, a mantra he had internalized long ago: Although being capable of knowing a little about fate, one remains helpless towards fate; therefore, one might as well use a smiling face to hide all the pain, sorrow, confusion, and depression.
He had worn the mask of the Clown perfectly, his grin unwavering even as his insides churned with terror. The Clown's philosophy was simple yet brutal: fate was a cruel master, and no matter how much you understood it, you were still its puppet.
"Smile through the pain,"Arlo muttered, his lips twitching into a faint, bitter smile. "Smile through the fear. Smile even when the world is crumbling around you. That's the Clown's way."
He had done just that. Against Gabriel, against the army of possessed, against the crushing weight of his own mortality, he had smiled. It wasn't bravery—it was defiance. A middle finger to the universe that seemed hell-bent on breaking him.
But now, alone in the quiet aftermath, the mask slipped. His shoulders sagged, the weight of exhaustion and trauma pressing down on him. His heart, which had been racing like a war drum, finally began to slow. Yet his thoughts didn't quiet. They raced, replaying every close call, every life lost, every choice that had led him here.
"I'm not a god,"he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I can't undo the tragedies. I can't bring back the dead. Every life lost… it's a scar. And no power in the world can erase that."
As if in response to his thoughts, a notification flickered across his HUD, pulling him back to the present.
[Notification: Clown Potion Digestion Progress: 60%]
[Skill Level Up!]
[Paper Dagger Leveled Up to Level 6]
[Bodily Control Leveled Up to Level 6
[Hand-to-Hand Combat Leveled Up to Level 6/10]
Arlo blinked, the sudden influx of information cutting through his introspection. He let out a long, weary sigh, his shoulders slumping further.
"Great," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Just what I needed more reminders of how close I came to dying."
But even as he grumbled, a small part of him felt a flicker of satisfaction. The Clown potion was digesting faster, his skills were improving, and he had survived. Against all odds, he had survived.
"Not bad for a guy who was one swing away from being a stain on the ground,"he said with a wry chuckle.
Still, the weight of what he had endured lingered. The fear, the pain, the sheer helplessness of facing a force like Gabriel—it wasn't something he could just shake off. But for now, he pushed it down, burying it beneath the familiar mask of the Clown.
"One step at a time,"he whispered, his voice firm despite the exhaustion. "One battle at a time."
Arlo activated his BrainLink with his thought. A Series of notifications filled his HUD.
[Quest Completed: Protect the savior's mother from Angels until the savior is Born]
Remark: You have survived the second coming and the wrath of the Biblical God. By some miracle you have protected the savior and her mother from the onslaught of an army of possessed human and the Archangel Gabriel.
Difficulty: C-Rank
Reward: 10000 EXP, 20000 Credits, Feather of Michael 1x
Evaluation: A
[Hidden Quest 1 Completed: Bleed of the one of the 7 Archangel]
Remark: You have made Archangel Gabriel bleed in his vessel and not die for it
Reward: 500mL of Archangel Gabriel's Blood
[Hidden Quest 2 Completed: Save the survivor in the Paradise Fall Diner]
Remark: You have save some of the survivors of the Paradise Fall Diner and alter their destined fate to die for the savior
Reward: Fragment of Creation 0.5%
Arlo's lips curved into a crooked grin.
[Experience Gained: 10900 XP]
[Level Up! Current Level: 12]
[Experience : 7741 (12960) XP]
[Credits: 20307]
[Status Window]
Arlo Leeroy
Job: Sequence 8: Clown (40%)
Race: Human/Beyonder
Level: 12EXP: 6355 (12960)HP: 145MP: 220
[Stats Info]
Strength: 15
Dexterity: 20
Intelligence: 27
Charisma: 12
Luck: 30
Endurance: 15
Wisdom: 32
Remaining Status Point: 5
"Well, that was one hell of a grind," he muttered, feeling a rush of relief and satisfaction. "And just a little too close to a permadeath run." He dismissed the notifications, savoring the moment of victory.
Arlo then open his inventory to look at the detail of his rewards
[Inventory]
Feather of Michael 1x [Epic]
Consumable, Material
Description: This is the feather of an archangel Michael this sharp feather can can the thickest armor and magical enchantment. Any weapon crafted from this feather can harm any supernatural Entities.
Effect: Divine Power and Anti-Supernatural Entities
500mL of Archangel Gabriel's Blood [Legendary]
Consumable, Material
Description: This is the blood of archangel Gabriel that can kill demonic entities and healing property that can heal anything as long as the user is not dead. This blood can be used to craft items with divine power.
Effect: Ant-Demonic Entities and Healing Property
Fragment of Creation 1% [Phantasy]
Consumable, Material
Description: The fragment of creation has the power to create absolutely anything imaginable, transcending boundaries to create concepts, existence, reality and even Totality itself. This creative power knows no bounds: this can create out of nothing, transform one thing into another, conjure up comic-book images, bring a dead person to life, duplicate anything and manufacture essentially anything they desire on an infinite scale. But due to being fragmented it can only create equivalent percentage. Only by accumulating more fragment of creation can do more.
Effect: Creation 1%
"WHAT THE FUCK!!!" Arlo's exclamation echoed against the rocky terrain as he stared at his HUD, the words practically burning into his retinas. Almost getting pulverized by an archangel was totally worth it!
He rubbed his face with both hands as if trying to wipe away the disbelief. His inventory sparkled with new treasures.The Feather of Michael gleamed in his mind's eye, its razor-sharp edges promising divine power.
"I can forge weapons or add it to an existing weapon from this. Anti-supernatural enchantments... imagine the possibilities!" He pictured a blade cutting through reality itself, a grin tugging at his lips.
Then came the Archangel Gabriel's Blood"Healing and anti-demonic properties. Perfect. I could bottle this and start my own line of demon-slaying potions. Arlo's Divine Brew." He chuckled but felt a pang of exhaustion creep into his bones. The humor, however dark, kept his sanity in check
But it was the Fragment of Creation that had his mind spiraling. A swirling vortex of infinite potential, encapsulated in a mere one percent of raw, omnipotent power. His fingers trembled as he navigated the description again.
"Transcending boundaries... creating anything... bringing concepts to life..." Arlo's pulse quickened. "Literal god powers in the palm of my hand," he whispered. "And just a fraction of it."
He leaned back against the rock wall, eyes closed. His head throbbed as the implications unfurled in his mind.
If anyone finds out about this... He thought of every greedy, power-hungry being that would stop at nothing to rip it from his grasp. They'd hunt me like a shiny legendary Pokémon except there's no Poké Center for this kind of trouble.
The migraine stabbed harder. His brain raced from idea to idea, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of possibilities. He needed rest. The fragment could wait. "For now, I'm keeping my mouth shut. This is my ace. A world-breaking, reality-bending ace."
He opened his BrainLink with a flick, its cool blue interface providing some calm amid the chaos. Notifications lined the screen like confetti from a celebration:
Arlo have migraine in his head he does not know what to do. He sighed and decide to sleep first and think this better after sleeping. Arlo opened his brainLink:
[SYSF Multiverse: Dominion Universe]
[Warning: Portal Transfer Imminent]
[Accept Transfer? Y/N]
Arlo pushes Yes then portal shimmered into view before him, swirling with prismatic light. He could feel its pull, a gravity that led back to the HUB. He took one last look at the empty road, his hand lingering on the hilt of his Pit Viper.
"Not a bad ending," he said quietly, stepping into the portal. "Not bad at all."
****************************************************************************
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