The world was awash with flames, a brilliant explosion of colors. Blue fire snaked through the ground, burning the stone pavement.
Cracks spread through the molten pathway, azure flames leaking from the cracks like spectral moonlight.
Yet fire wasn’t the only thing eating away at the world. Petals of silver snow fell from the sky, burning away the moment they came into contact with the ground.
Mortified, Helix moved his head wildly, hoping to understand the situation. Behind the towering pillars of fire, Helix could barely make out a silhouette.
Without hesitation, he ran straight through the flames, his body passing harmlessly.
The world around him was merely an illusion conjured by his awakening. It was a way for his angels to see whether or not he was worthy of a blessing.
Helix knew this, which was exactly why he had ran into a vortex of flames without worry.
Just after a few moments, Helix found himself staring at the source of the destruction.
His legs stopped instantly. He didn’t move, couldn’t.
The Abaddon estate—his home—was in ruins.
It was beyond simple damage; it looked like hell itself had descended upon his house.
Once magnificent marble pillars had shattered into beads of rubble. Broken glass stained the world like snow, bubbling from the heat.
Even the pool wasn’t spared; water evaporated.
Helix struggled to breathe.
What could have brought down the Abaddon household, the very source of his family’s power, to a smoldering mess?
Without a word, Helix began to move, eyes hollow and lusterless. They were like pieces of the abyss, boundless and everlasting.
It was as if the vision demanded he see everything, and he could do nothing but comply.
The estate was silent in a way only death could bring. As he passed, Helix saw faces he knew, faces he saw almost every day.
Bodies of servants were strewn with almost disrespect, with massive scars running through their bodies, blood pooling beneath them.
Helix stopped, the weight of the situation pressing down upon him. He found the head butler, Atlas, soon after.
The man was also dead, a massive cross mark tore through his chest, oozing with crimson. Half of Atlas’s face was burned, nearly unrecognizable.
"Atlas...may Azrael herself embrace your soul."
After giving a short prayer in Atlas’s name, Helix moved on. He passed wreckage and a plethora of burned bodies.
He wanted to puke, to fall to the ground and curse God and all his angels, but he didn’t.
It was a trial, nothing but an illusion. A test from his angels.
Wailing like a child would certainly make him fail...yet it was getting harder to hold on.
His will was deteriorating with every passing moment, as if wrung through a washer. Death was something Helix was never comfortable with, but River...he hated it.
In River’s eyes, death was a plague that would take all that was his, and in the end, even him. Death was not peace; it was something to be feared, something to hate.
He found his mother then.
Cassandra Abaddon lay pinned to the ground, her grey hair splayed around her like a halo. Her eyes were open, still warm somehow, as if she had died mid-smile.
A dozen spears, each a different color, skewered her like a doll.
Following his mother’s gaze, Helix found his brother.
Morgan was slumped against what remained of the front door, armor shattered, one hand still reaching forward. Still fighting even at the end. Still the greatest Abaddon, even in death.
Helix’s legs gave out.
He didn’t fall with a dramatic thud; he simply slumped to the ground, unable to hold himself upright any longer.
Mother...Morgan...
His family was dead...gone.
Something wet dragged across his face, falling to the ground with a soft splatter. Then again, and again.
Helix’s vision became blurry, slick with tears.
Unbeknownst to Helix, the realm was changing. The burning mansion disappeared, a world of color taking its place.
It was as if God had splattered paint on a vast canvas, giving the world its current color. There was no semblance of order; twisted versions of objects were the only things in the realm.
A soft voice tore through Helix’s dazed mind.
"It is okay to cry. Crying is a natural response to pain."
"Huh..."
Wiping away his tears, Helix put his eyes on the figure who had spoken to him. She was a woman, her stature short, but she still looked towering.
"Listen, my child. Never forget what you saw, what you felt."
The woman offered Helix her hand. He stared at the delicate hand, and after a moment of hesitation, he grasped it.
The angelic woman pulled him up. Standing beside her, Helix felt how short she was.
Gathering himself, Helix asked the woman a question.
"Who are you...and where am I? What did you mean by remembering everything? Why?"
Yeah, he asked her more than one question. But thankfully for him, the woman seemed to find it amusing.
"Who I am, you already know, don’t you, my child?"
Her hair shifted—colorless one moment, bleeding into gold the next, then crimson, then the deep blue of an ocean at midnight. Her eyes followed suit, never settling, never still.
He knew those eyes.
He knew that hair.
She was his angel, his patron, and his Divine Mother.
"Ezekiel, Angel of Revelation and...a Malakhim."
Ezekiel smiled, and for a moment, her hair settled on white before continuing its endless cycle.
"Enemy, such a ludicrous word. Does being on the other side make me evil, my child? Am I a villain for simply representing The Malakhim?"
Helix didn’t respond, for he knew calling her his enemy was stupid and unfair. But when had men ever been fair?
"No answer, huh. You will soon know my child when you are mature enough."
"As for where you are," she gestured around the twisted, paint-splattered realm with a pale hand, "is my home. Welcome to the Realm of Madness."
Helix looked around properly for the first time. A chair floated past him, upside down, trailing ribbons of colour. Somewhere in the distance, a staircase spiralled into a sky full of twirling flowers.
Her expression shifted; the time to answer his final question was upon her.
"The things you saw in your trial, they are all the truth, my child. What you saw is the future, a future you must work to stop."
The words landed like stones dropped into still water.
"What you saw is merely the beginning of the end. What is to come will be worse, so so worse."
"Is the war about to start again?"
Ezekiel smiled, and it was the saddest smile Helix had ever seen.
"It has already begun. Azrael tried to convince Lucifer, but we are all tired."
Ezekiel walked past Helix, her hair brushing against his shoulders.
"We Fallen have been fighting the Angels for over a millennium. Lucifer has decided that it’s time to finally finish."
Horror flashed on Helix’s face as he realized what Ezekiel meant.
"And we, the Abaddon, will be the first to fall." He whispered the words, wishing Ezekiel would correct him, but she just nodded.
"You have two years at most. Make the most of them, Helix, because the world will soon burn."
Silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant sound of colour moving through the air.
"What about you! Aren’t you going to help me?"
"You already have everything I can give Helix; mold it and use it as a weapon. The future may be depressing, but seeing is much better than being blind."
"I-I’ll do my best...I’ll try even if I fail. Mark my words, the coalition might die, but my family won’t."
His hollow eyes met Ezekiel’s shifting ones before she laughed.
"Oh, my child." She reached up, pressing a hand to his cheek. "You are so very different from me."
Helix smiled as well. Resolve burned in his onyx eyes.
But there was still something that was bugging Helix.
"What is it you want to ask Helix. I’ll answer if I can."
He took a deep breath.
"Then...do you know who Prince Caspian is?"
Ezekiel’s eyes widened before she smiled again.