rure
patreon
Overlord of biblical proportions: The new Three-Sided War (18)
🕑 Added 2024-09-01 15:30:48 +0000 UTCVali Lucifer never followed the rules. What else could be expected from an heir of the oldest demonic family, under the guardianship of fallen angels, the owner of the strongest class of [Sacred Gears], a [Longinus]. A person, who from birth, surpassed other devils like the sky towering over the earth?
Raised in his family as a Lucifer, before falling under the tutelage of the Fallen Angels, Vali did not learn to break the rules – rather, they never truly existed for him. There were things for which he could be punished, but using only the 'whip' could get only a certain level of obedience from a child. Especially from a child who had learned a simple truth from an early age.
If you're stronger, you can make everyone weaker than you obey.
That's why Vali became strong.
He realized that as long as his actions didn't kill him – he could break any rules. Perhaps even death was not such a bad outcome. Dying in battle, dying pursuing his goals – Vali was not a philosopher, but with his love in seeking battle against stronger foes, he understood that death had always been much closer to him than it seemed to other people.
But Vali wasn't afraid of the things he encountered so often. Death in battle didn’t scare Vali.
That's why now Vali could only grind his teeth powerlessly when he was forced to do nothing.
Orders, pleas, Azazel's persuasions - to hell with them all!
Since when did anyone decide to think that they could give orders to him?! Even if he got beaten or tortured or even killed for disobeying Azazel’s commands - so be it.
Dying in battle, dying pursuing his goals, Vali was not afraid of it. What scared Vali was dying a foolish death, one that accomplished nothing. Despite others calling him suicidal, for who would be so foolish as to charge straight towards the Crimson Satan, he was not suicidal at all.
Jumping into a pit? Foolish. Jumping off a tall tower headfirst? What’s the point? If Vali was destined to die, he wanted to do so either in a fight or at least achieving something with his death.
That's why Vali could only ground his teeth powerlessly, for that would be what happened if he stepped a foot out of the ‘safe harbor’ that Azazel had groveled to get the Fallen.
Vali was not proud of his Lucifer blood, unlike the other heirs of Devil families, the so-called Pillar Families, and especially unlike the Old Satans. After what he had experienced in his childhood in his home, in his family, Vali certainly did not feel veneration for the noble name of Lucifer.
But still, on some small, pitifully small level, Vali believed that at least he was strong. An heir with Lucifer's blood and the strongest artifact in the world, a [Longinus], the bearer of the name of the White Dragon Emperor.
Vali believed that if nothing else, at least this name held some value, the current bearer of the [Longinus] that held one of the two Heavenly Dragons. A Dragon that took the combined might of the Biblical Factions working in tandem to defeat.
At least, he thought so until the 'false' Lucifer, as the Old Satans liked to call Sirzechs behind his back, turned his pristine white armor, his [Balance Breaker] into so much scrap in barely an instant without even needing to touch him.
Up until that moment, Vali had played with Cadres like toys, crushing them time after time in their ‘spars’, Kokabiel most so as the mad man had challenged him for a ‘friendly’ match time and time again. A ‘friendly’ match that would soon turn as ‘friendly’ as friendly fire, should Vali show any weakness.
That was why he considered himself strong. Even if he met someone incredibly powerful, he could always rely on his [Divine Dividing] to make the playing field fairer.
He had tried to use it on Sirzechs, and the attempt to take half of Lucifer's power literally broke him.
He understood his mistake in that split second, as his wings tried desperately to dump the excess energy lest it destroyed him, as he truly bit off more than he can chew.
And even that desperation was not enough.
His wings, his armor, everything shattered into pieces. His arms, legs, torso, everything exploding from within as the Crimson Satan’s power ran amok within him uncontrolled. If Albion hadn't rushed to his aid, that would have likely been the end of Vali’s story, not from taking on an attack, but from trying to swallow more than he could chew – and nearly suffocating from it.
However, at the end of the day, he might have as well had died that day, it wouldn’t make much difference than his current state in his standard. His [Longinus] had been shattered into pieces; and it would take several days before he could summon it again as even with Albion’s direct help, the dragon had struggled to absorb Lucifer's power.
Something that had made him suffer the worst physical backlash short of death.
His body was in the weakest and most vulnerable state it had been throughout his life – he was weaker than when he was a child and could only take beatings from his father. He was almost as weak as a normal human!
And there was nothing he could do about it.
If it weren't for this fact, Vali would have long since spat on all of Azazel's prohibitions and fled to find Tobio – the one person who had replaced his real family.
Punishment, defeat in battle, even if he died trying to find Tobio, Vali didn't care. Dying while pursuing a worthy goal wasn’t the worst way to die in Vali’s opinion. And rescuing Tobio certainly counts as one.
Right now, Vali couldn't be an opponent even for some four-winged angel, let alone venture into Kuoh. A city teeming with Devils, with even Serafall reported being spotted in the area… And if Sirzechs showed up there, any chance of finding and rescuing Tobio is simply a pie in the sky.
Not only rescuing Tobio, but even the chance of escaping Azazel's surveillance seemed ephemeral at best.
These facts drove Vali mad.
He wasn’t used to relying on others; he wasn’t used to doing nothing or obediently waiting for situations to develop; and he certainly wasn’t used to losing. But current circumstances were such that Vali had lost so utterly, and could now only silently wait day after day as Azazel and other surviving cadres tried to do at least something.
Vali even understood with his rational mind that Azazel truly wanted to find Tobio…
But to hell with rationality when it comes to the only family he has!
But what can he do? Once again, he was nothing more than a weak boy, unable to do anything but take the abuse.
All Vali could do at that moment was ground his teeth powerlessly, obediently wait, and hope that Tobio really was just lying low and would soon send a signal that he was alive…
And that the worst was already behind.
***
Griselda Quatra made her way to an inconspicuous car; a small, gray family minivan. The type that would not look suspicious being driven by an unremarkable middle-aged woman whose appearance she has adapted with a few strokes of makeup and a change of clothes.
Entering the car with a practiced ease, a simple turn of the key and a press on the gas pedal, Griselda was soon on her way. All the while, her eyes, trained by the best teacher in the world, experience, didn’t stray from the road for several more miles. Until she is completely certain that she has left any observation circle of even the most paranoid of Fallen Angel watchers.
An overkill in most situations, but seeing as the Fallen Angel has ample reasons to be very paranoid, Griselda did not take any chances. It was hours before she deigned to stop the car.
Finding a small gas station, she halted the minivan to finally read the report, given to her by the woman that had been sitting on the passenger seat.
For a few minutes, there was no other sound in the car other than the noise of the two breathing.
"The situation with the fallen is even worse than I could have imagined," Pulling on the handbrake as they parked on one of the many parking lots, Griselda turns her gaze on the woman from the Special Division sitting next to her. "Have you already sent the report?"
"I just did," The woman smiles to herself before sighing, looking at the message on the phone she has just sent. A message which is supposed to automatically disappear from the phone memory and conversation history after a few minutes.
"I'm not even sure they'll need to be annihilated. Their Morale is at rock bottom, their strongest fighters are lost, and they are entirely consumed by fear… I'll have to give them credit if they don't crumble after the first blow."
Griselda couldn’t help but opine, she had read about the state of the Fallen after all. Pitiable is perhaps the best word to use to describe them.
"Give them credit, hm?" The Special Division woman glanced at Griselda with a questioning tilt to one of her eyebrows. Before, with a shake of her head, she continued., "I suppose... This is that 'respect for the enemy' I've heard so much about."
"Heard?" Quatra pauses for a moment as she processes the strange remark, looking at the woman's confused expression before continuing. "This isn't respect like I'd feel for a friend or ally. It's not giving respect for their actions or ideals. But to defeat them so utterly… Even if it's possible, that victory would come at a high price. No enemy is more dangerous than one that is fully cornered… Respect, in this, means that we should not underestimate the enemy. I thought that a Special Division operative would share these sentiments."
"It depends on what you consider to be ‘respect’," The woman silently thinks for a moment before casting a glance at her hand, as if trying to find some kind of answer in them, "I believe that no enemy should be underestimated. That’s something mein Vater had taught me… Or rather, it’s something I inherited from him."
Shaking her head, the Special Division operative then revealed why she was an Operative in the first place. Griselda might be a capable combatant, but to hear the Special Division operative speak of it was a thing to behold.
"I suppose you would call this understanding the enemy? Comprehension of their abilities, their willingness, or unwillingness to use any means necessary to achieve victory, and fear or uncertainty of their power and abilities… Such things are undoubtedly necessary to confront a mighty foe and emerge as the victor. But respect?" The girl glances at Griselda, and Griselda could swear she sees a certain contemplation flash in the Special Division agent's eyes briefly,
"Respect isn't born from conflict and opposition, there are many in this world whom I respect deeply, but my enemies do not deserve such an honor. Respecting something or someone, means a desire to emulate, to end the battle, to find common ground. If I’m already facing an opponent, it means I’ve found no opportunities to resolve things through dialogue. Therefore, respect for my enemy isn't something I can speak of."
Griselda mulls over these words for a moment – respect as a desire to emulate the enemy… It could be seen that way, if the enemy was strong, quite a few might want to acquire or emulate their strength, intelligence, and abilities, wouldn't they?
However, if an enemy was nothing more than scum or possessed powers that could only lead to destruction and pain among ordinary people, then perhaps emulating them was exactly what Griselda as their adversary should avoid doing.
Finally breaking out of her thoughts after several more seconds, Griselda returned her attention to the Special Division operative, there’s something more than meets the eye about this woman..
Of course, asking personal questions among members of the Special Division was considered in extremely bad taste… But, the woman spoke not only with confidence born from experience, but also with a conviction that was difficult to find even among the most seasoned servants of the church.
Also, considering how easily she had infiltrated the Fallen Angels’ ranks, alongside possessing a very sharp discerning eyes and mind, Griselda decides it's worth paying closer attention to her and perhaps even recommending her for advancement. It’s not as though she had much influence within the church anymore, especially now that she had stepped aside from fieldwork, yet she still had a few highly useful contacts.
Therefore, this time, Griselda chooses to break unspoken rules of Special Division protocol.
"What is your code name?"
"Pandora, meine dame," The Agent replied with a mysterious smile. “Agent Pandora.”
After these words, Agent Pandora stretches in place slightly before giving Griselda a smile. Watching as her delivered report vanishes from her phone memory and nodding. "And I think we've lingered long enough in this car. We better get moving – otherwise we'll start drawing attention... And I definitely don't want to leave a single error in the task of eradicating the fallen angels."
***
Valper Galilei made his way down the airplane stairs toward the bus waiting to take him away. As he stepped onto the small bus, he could feel a few beads of sweat forming on his forehead even from such minimal exertion. He sighed in relief as the people lining up behind him began to cram into the bus, pressing him against the nearby handrail, therefore hiding him from view.
But what could he do? Despite his official rank as an exorcist and even his right to carry weapons, Valper was more a scholar, a knight of words and test tubes than any kind of combat capable unit.
That was all in the past, though.
At this moment, Valper wasn't even an exorcist or a scholar—just a lonely criminal fleeing from the church, desperately hoping that in this godforsaken corner of the world called Japan, he might escape the ever-watching eyes of the Holy See. Valper pressed himself against the walls of the bus, in an effort to cool himself on the metal of the motor vehicle. Instead only feeling the disgusting, tiny beads of salty sweat beginning to gather on his forehead and tried to take control of his breathing.
Everything in his life had gone to hell in recent years.
Valper had once been a highly respected scholar of the church, researching holy swords and figuring out the abilities that determined how some people could wield holy swords while others couldn't even pick them up, let alone use them. And it wasn't just about the holiness of these swords burning sinners as previously believed.
Contrary to popular belief, angelic light wasn't harmless to humans.
Yet the rejection of holy swords had nothing to do with the phenomenon of repulsion or attraction to holiness or a person’s innocence or lack thereof. An innocent babe couldn’t wield a holy blade, for instance, while an Exorcist bathed in the blood of heretics and creatures of the night could. And since his request of making newborns kill a captured heretic or monstrosity was denied, it was an answer that he could not find using that method.
What was the cause, then? What genetic miracles, magic, or divine grace granted some people the right to wield a holy sword while others were denied that right?
No one knew—and that meant Valper was obligated to solve this mystery!
After all, he was a scholar, and a scholar could never accept the answer 'just because' on faith—he always had to ask 'why' and find explanations for it… before finding cracks in that explanation again and again, always striving for the ideal of scientific thought and always falling just short.
This was the triumph of scientific thought!
This approach earned Valper recognition and respect in the scientific circles of the Holy See. For a brief moment, he rose to the summit of Olympus—strange though it was to speak of Olympus as a Christian—and was welcome in all the highest offices. So welcome that when he merely hinted that he needed support, funding, and some resources to conduct research on holy swords and create ‘artificial’ bearers of holy swords, no one even asked him a single question about it.
Arriving at another bus stop, the small bus stopped, and Valper exited following the general crowd of people. He has reached the airport terminal.
He began moving toward the passport control lines, trying to find a suitable line for himself, the shortest if possible, feeling his hands involuntarily sweating. However, this time it wasn't due to the walk or the weather; it was solely because of his nervousness. Crossing a country with fake documents... For Valper, it was the first time he did it.
Another indignity, another sin he was forced to commit after he was excommunicated from the Church, and it wasn’t even his fault!
The church was entirely to blame, in his humble opinion. If no one was overseeing his actions, at what point was Valper supposed to realize he was doing something that might not please the church?
After all, he even sent reports, progress reports, budgetary reports, heck even employee satisfaction reports! And with half of all the church's scientific papers on holy swords created by him with complete documentation, how could the Church then turn around and put all the blame on him!?
He was the first and only person who managed to create that notorious 'element' that controlled the affinity between a bearer and holy swords. Without him, the church would still be operating regarding holy swords like primitive barbarians, conducting hundreds of useless screenings and training bearers who were entirely unsuitable for using holy swords.
Yes, as a result of his experiments, he had to dispose of several dozen unsuitable bearers and failed experimental subjects, But they were just orphaned children! No one would even notice their disappearance!
They have done great service for the Church, and so surely, they have been granted entry to Heaven, a blessing to them while others have to work hard for their own salvation. And all they had to do was donate their body to the church! Valper thinks that it’s a very lopsided bargain, a little pain for the promise of eternal salvation.
But the Church thought otherwise, for surely they had gone mad, as they unilaterally declared him a heretic, and had sent the Special Department after him like he was some lawless criminal!
And after all he had done for the Church too! The church has truly never understood scholars throughout the ages!
Taking control of his breathing as he reached the clerk at the checkpoint, a tired man who was clearly more interested in the end of his workday than in performing any of his official duties, Valper handed over his documents. He could feel his sweaty palms leaving marks on them and noticed the slight grimace of disgust on the official's face as he took them from Valper’s hand.
“James Brown?” The official accepted Valper’s documents and looked up at him as he read out the fake name on his fake documents, causing Valper to swallow nervously.
“Yes.” Valper tried to smile, all the while biting his tongue lest he say anything that might blow his cover. He had little experience using fake documents, little experience in subterfuge really. But even he knew that the worst thing he could do in this situation was to start involuntarily revealing information that should 'confirm' the authenticity of his documents and attract unnecessary attention from the inspector.
“You look different from the photograph.” The official gave a disinterested glance at the dry lines and numbers on the document.
“Age takes its toll on us all.” Valper smiled again, trying his best to hide the knot of anxiety that is beginning to involuntarily form in his stomach.
The clerk then checked the photo on the documents a couple more times, looking back and forth between it and Valper’s face. Before, with a languid slowness that only made Valper even more nervous, finally raised his stamp and, with a surprisingly loud sound under the current circumstances, slammed in on a page on Valper’s passport.
“Welcome to Japan.”
“Thank you very much.” Valper took his documents hurriedly, taking special care not to drop it, before then hurrying along the line away.
After Valper was expelled from the church, he had immediately started searching for a patron, he would not have survived in this world otherwise. Valper had never wielded anything more dangerous than a kitchen knife in his life, so finding a patron became his number one priority.
Fortunately for Valper himself, finding a patron for the most prominent scientist in the field of holy swords was not so difficult, especially among those who were interested in holy swords and in the church. And who else could a heretic excommunicated from the church turn to, but to the Fallen Angels?
Valper found himself a decent patron—a Cadre, in fact, Kokabiel. Who was extremely interested in information about holy swords and even willing to provide him with a new testing ground. Valper had even stolen a couple shards of the destroyed [Excalibur] as a gift to the Cadre.
He hadn’t even had the chance to enjoy the feeling of having the shards of the Holiest of Holy Swords himself before the news had reached him.
Baggage claim went smoothly for Valper, the slowly moving conveyor belt delivering him his suitcase. With his whole life savings back in his hands, he felt much more grounded. It wasn't much, but it would be enough for a quiet life somewhere in the backwoods.
The moment when the daring heist was supposed to take place, the news that Kokabiel had died and that the Fallen were defeated and scattered to the four winds reached Valper. Thoughts of his daring robbery were replaced with panic-stricken flight.
If Kokabiel had been by his side, Valper could have counted on his protection, but if Kokabiel was dead? The Holy See would drag him out from under an active volcano for his wrong doing, and for stealing shards of the [Excalibur]? Well, only God would know what kind of torment would befall him.
Valper knows, though, that it would become a warning for anyone that would try to follow in his footsteps, and would be remembered for decades to come.
So Valper had to abandon everything; the swords, his research, personal belongings, all he managed to take with him was a handful of things and a little money. Luckily, Kokabiel had prepared the fake documents for him in advance, so Valper could still escape, as he had not even the first idea on how to acquire such things.
But, if before he had thoughts of continuing his experiments, now all the former scientist could hope for was to hide in the deepest hole in territory unaccountable by the Holy See. To stay hidden long enough for the church to forget about his existence entirely.
And thus ends the glory of the great scientist who spent his entire life researching holy swords.
Upon exiting the airport, Valper waved his hand to catch a taxi before placing his suitcase into the trunk of the car and getting inside, the driver not bothering to help him out. Of course, airport taxi drivers charged outrageous amounts, but Valper wasn't in any mood for haggling right now.
“Four-three-six Shinso-Mito-Shi.” Valper didn't know Japanese well but was fairly confident that he at least pronounced the address correctly. However, to his surprise, he received an answer from the taxi driver in clear English… No, rather Japanese that transformed in his mind into English, another nice base feature of inhabitants of the paranormal world.
Though, this time, it only brought great distress to him.
”Welcome to Kyoto, Mr. Galilei.”
'Yokai!?’ Valper quickly realized, before swallowing nervously, as a dark thought immediately formed in his mind.
“Does this mean I'll be handed over to the church?” Valper muttered in a panic as he hurried to try to open the car door again, only to find that it was locked.
“Not so fast there, Mr. Galilei.” The driver started moving slightly forward as he started the car without turning towards Valper.
”Certainly, it's possible that we could do that… But such events become significantly less likely if you agree to have a little chat with the boss.”
“Your… boss?” Valper exhaled sharply as he pressed on his lips in fear before asking. “And what does your boss want with me?”
“Patience, It’s supposed to be a virtue, isn’t it? I’m sure that an esteemed member of the church like you must have an ample amount of them, right?” Mutters the driver before he pressed on the gas pedal, the taxi starting to move and merging to the main road with ease.
The traditional architecture and beautiful sights were not enough to distract Valper, as pure horror settled within him.
"You’ll be meeting with Lady Yasaka very shortly, so any of your curiosity would be sated soon."
***
Upon exiting the airport, Irina, a new exorcist and one of the most talented holy swordswomen in the service of the Church in recent years, looks around before exhaling faintly and leaning on the suitcase next to her. Soon enough, the nun settled on her knees in prayer, though for more reasons than one, the passersby made sure to take a wide berth from the weirdo.
“Holy Lord in Heaven, am I really expected to endure such suffering every time?!”
“Do not take the Lord's name in vain!” Xenovia, walking from behind her friend and partner, pokes Irina under the shoulder blade, making her hiss in response. “This could scarcely be called suffering!”
“Twenty hours of flight, twenty hours!” Irina stomped her foot in indignation, and also to make sure that blood flowed back to them, all the while raising her hands to the sky. “Why me? What did I do to deserve this?!”
“Don't be a drama queen. A long flight is nothing more than a minor trial in comparison to what an Exorcist must go through in their sacred duties.” Xenovia says in Italian, which fortunately for any passerby is a language the average Japanese person would never understand, allowing herself to relax slightly.
She believed it was safe to drop some of her usual decorum… or at least Xenovia thought so. If Griselda had been present, she would have probably scolded her careless favorite student and adopted daughter.
But Griselda was not there at the moment, and the current mission could even be called the first real field trial for the freshly minted exorcists. So Xenovia allowed herself a bit of confidence and laxity, especially since her friend and partner Irina, who was also on her first full-scale field mission, seemed to encourage it.
“In this case, it was a major problem!” Irina rolls her eyes at Xenovia’s actions and sighs. “And you can’t even call this a mission! Simply finding out if Valper Galilei, the Genocide Bishop, is in Kuoh. Is that even something that can be called a mission?!”
“Not just that, but to also gather information on what is happening in Kuoh. And that is definitely a mission, an important one.” Xenovia tries to put on a serious face but can't resist a bit of needling toward her friend as she walks past her.
“You Protestants are always like this, you people can't stay focused on one task you're told to complete.”
“My apologies, at least I don't need a papal sanction to mention Our Lord out of reverence!” Irina retorts before dragging herself forward, lugging her wheeled suitcase behind her.
Xenovia only rolls her eyes at that. Friends or not, exorcists in the service of the Holy See or not, tensions between Protestants and Catholics were a problem so ancient and blurry that not even the Angels themselves could say for certain whose veneration of the Church was more correct. And since the Lord Himself remained silent on this matter, it forced both branches of the Church to jostle for position even when they were carrying out the same mission.
“How very smart, to demean the faith of your partner while on a mission, due to minor doctrinal differences.” Xenovia huffs as she ignores the fact that she was the one who started this argument.
She keeps moving forward, pushing her suitcase on wheels in front of her, before letting loose another small dig at Irina. “Is this the famous Protestant unity? Are you planning to open a new denomination after you return?”
“Only if another Reformation war isn't declared against me,” Irina sticks out her tongue like a child before following behind her friend. Realizing that their squabble was nearing a breaking point and had begun to spill into historical conflicts, she wisely opts to change subjects.
“Any thoughts on where Valper might be hiding?”
“No idea,” Xenovia pauses for a moment as she senses the shift in topics and decides not to oppose it. “I’m not even sure what he might need in Kuoh… isn’t a vermin like him supposed to crawl into the furthest and darkest of crevices, and not instead barge in on one of the hottest hotspots in Japan?”
“The minds of heretics are always hard to understand,” Irina shrugs as she hurries after her friend. “Maybe he has found himself a new patron among the Devils?”
“Doubtful,” Xenovia briefly contemplates the thought before rolling her eyes.
If Valper crosses paths with her, she would definitely seize him and deliver him straight into the Holy Inquisition's hand, no matter whichever Devil that Valper had managed to sweet talk into employment might think about it.
Betrayers of God do not get to hide among the wicked.
“But if that happens, it doesn’t change our task—capture, bind, detain.”
“Xenovia, you’re making us sound like we’re some kind of scary kidnappers instead of noble heroes apprehending a dangerous criminal!” Irina lets out a loud sigh, raising her arms skyward for emphasis and briefly letting go of her suitcase handle.
“And besides, remember?! Our mission is just to gather information, isn’t it? You just said so yourself seconds ago!”
“If Valper doesn’t show up in Kuoh,” Xenovia nods seriously. “But if we do find him here… I don’t think we need additional orders to detain a dangerous criminal.”
“And what if he’s under the Devil’s protection?” Irina pauses for a moment as Xenovia gives an irritated snort. “We don’t want to cause an incident… Wait, did you just snort?”
“There can’t be an incident if someone is hiding a dangerous criminal, especially one as disgusting as Valper.” Xenovia doesn’t bat an eyelash as she continues ahead. “If they do decide they want drama after that—then it's further proof we’re right in treating these betrayers of God as true evil on this Earth.”
Irina waits several seconds to ponder over Xenovia’s words before exhaling. “Catholics and their radicals…”
As she moves towards Xenovia following their exchange, Irina decided to ask something hastily,
“Alright then… any thoughts on where we should head to first?”
“Yes?” Xenovia stops abruptly and glares at Irina. “Wait, didn’t you read the dossier before the mission?”
“I trusted you to read it for both of us.” Irina attempts an innocent expression, but only manages to worsen Xenovia’s irritation, which she suppresses with a sharp exhale. “There’s supposed to be a small church on the outskirts of Kuoh…”
“A church in the city of Devils?” Irina raises an eyebrow.
“Abandoned and taken over by the Fallen Angels,” Xenovia swiftly fills Irina in on the current situation before rubbing the bridge of her nose and turning toward what appears to be the most direct path to the church in question.
“I suggest starting by checking that place out first. If the Fallen Angels can’t offer us any new information well... We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Comments
Abaddon Lucifer
thx man
