Nuclear Army Vault, Hanford Site, Washington - 6:27 AM


    The spiral stairs to the vault descended sixty feet before I reached the bottom. There, I found a door not unlike the ones I had led the Mills to back in Etson. This one was made of metal instead of wood, but the feeling that there was going to be something amazing on the other side was the same.


    I approached, and a beam of light scanned me from above. It was harmless, I knew, and I stood still for it.


    “Access granted,” a metallic voice said before the door suddenly hissed.


    Mist appeared as the vault began to open, and I felt a chill when it crept around my feet. Once the door was lifted high enough that I wouldn’t bump my head against it, I walked in.


    The Nuclear Army’s vault was a long hallway with pedestals lining the side every five feet. Each one held something different. Rocket boots on this one, a sword hilt on another, a stack of skill books ten feet tall further in.


    Everything here would be worth a fortune if I were to take it and sell it, but I needed to keep my continuity alive just in case the Washington D.C. plan didn’t work out. I needed to be picky, so I headed to the long pedestal in the back.


    These items, at least, would be better off in my hands.


    I stopped a few feet away and looked across the pedestal. There were three items here, including the skill book and armor piece that the Omega Colossus dropped.


    The armor was a cuirass made out of polished black steel. It was so shiny that I could see my reflection as I stepped up to it. Reaching out, I turned it around to look at the bulky piece sticking out of its back. Two silver rockets jutted out, pointing downwards, and the bottom of the armor had a curve to it to prevent the fire from affecting the wearer’s legs.


    “Cuirass of Mankind’s Flight,” I said aloud as I pulled it into my inventory. I had ways to fly without it and it only allowed for thirty seconds of air time before it needed recharging. That, at least, it did fairly quickly on its own. It would make a good gift for just about anyone on the team.


    I moved over to the skill book, opened it, and immediately accepted it.


    <<<>>>


    [[Skill]]


    Overclocked Body


    Remove the limitations of your body. When you activate this skill, double your Strength and Dexterity stats and lower your Constitution by half. This skill can be activated once per day for the same number of seconds as your altered Constitution stat. You gain the Extreme Dehydration debuff, taking 50% more fire damage, for the duration and for a number of minutes equal to the number of seconds Overclocked Body was in use afterwards.


    <<<>>>


    Checking my status screen, I saw that this would bring my Constitution down from 97 to 48. That was shorter than a minute, but I could do some great things with an enhanced Strength stat of 94 and Dexterity of 164. The downsides were substantial, but I knew how to work around them.


    The last item was a silver spike with a flashing green light on the side that wasn’t pointy. Gingerly, I picked it up, holding onto the most powerful weapon I had gotten my hands on so far in this run.


    <<<>>>


    [[Item]]


    NA-2 “Let There Be Light” Beacon


    A beacon for the NA-1 “God’s First Day” Orbital Laser. Hold down the flashing green light to create an optical illusion showing the blast radius. This illusion will automatically change size until you release it. When the beam is at an adequate radius, plant the NA-2 beacon in the ground. The NA-1 Orbital Laser will fire after thirty seconds and will continue to fire for ten seconds after the beacon is destroyed.


    <<<>>>


    “I’m sure you’ll find this a little tasteless,” I chuckled as I pulled it and the others into my inventory.


    <<<>>>


    [[Patron Message]]


    On the first day, God said, “Let there be light.”


    You’re right, it is a bit tasteless. However, it’s also very powerful. I’m getting information on it now. Will the people who find this place not need it?


    <<<>>>


    I shook my head. “I traveled with them for a while to see what they’d do with it. They ended up wasting it because they were too scared to enter a dungeon. It was something they could clearly handle, but they built it up in their head that there was no way they could do it and no amount of reassurance could change their mind. Trust me, it’ll be put to better use if I take it.”


    Running my hand through my hair, I sighed. “The Cuirass of Mankind’s Flight ends with a drunkard getting eaten by a Nightmare Gull, which is roughly the size of a B-52 bomber, and it’s digested before the rest of the team grounds and kills it. The Overclocked Body skill goes to someone who ends up squandering it. Dies while showing off, though they’re not drunk at the time; they just take a big hit at half health and it was entirely avoidable.”


    <<<>>>


    [[Patron Message]]


    The people who come here sound completely inept. How do they manage to make it through the Nuclear Army?


    <<<>>>


    “These are the survivors,” I answered honestly. “Most of the competent people die on the front lines without me, leaving the entire company worse for wear. One of my letters actually gets sent to Taylor Duval telling her to wait for a bit until they find EMP grenades a little farther north, not far from here. That would be the smart thing to do.”


    <<<>>>


    [[Patron Message]]


    Not that you needed them. Wanted the thrill, did you?


    <<<>>>


    I shrugged and gave the ceiling a brilliant smile. “You know me so well,” I said cheekily as I started walking back to the entrance.


    <<<>>>


    [[Patron Message]]


    Anthony, be careful. You’re not alone.


    <<<>>>


    When I read the warning, I paused mid-step. “Enemies?” I asked, lowering my voice. I couldn’t see anything outside due to how far away I was from the door, so I only had her intelligence on what was there. “What’s out there?”


    I didn’t receive an answer.


    Navigating through my menu, I went to my equipped items to upgrade the Heelies of the Twice Blessed. Before the Nuclear Army I had only needed three bosses, and I had planned to save it for later. While I thought I knew what to expect, it was better safe than sorry.


    <<<>>>


    [[Equipped]]


    Heelies of the Twice Blessed +1


    (Growth Item, kill 15 bosses to upgrade; +24 Dexterity, +20 Constitution, Winged Messenger+ skill acquired, Celestial Wormhole skill acquired)


    <<<>>>


    “Winged Messenger goes from three times my speed to four,” I muttered, nodding to myself as I checked the description. “I am speed.”


    Taking a breath, I resumed heading to the stairwell. I had gotten a much more solid idea of what Sara could talk about and what she couldn’t. Her restrictions were basically just high level enemies such as Pustibule being a Demon Lord and Angels.


    And while I was expecting Demons to come after me for what I had done, I was sure she could have told me that. By that logic, it meant that the Angel, Glaraphel, had found me.


    I could admit that I had been a little out of sorts when I encountered him the first time. The Golden Dream was still weighing on me and I likely could have done more to turn the situation around. I still didn’t find it likely as he had been an Inquisitor of all things, but I probably could have done more.


    When I began ascending the stairs I saw that it wasn’t just Glaraphel; he had also brought some friends along for the ride. I noted that he was without his halo, though. Apparently, I had actually taken that from him.


    The one in front, taller than the rest, was a Dominion in flowing robes. The glowing orb she held in her hand and lack of armor was a dead giveaway. Her soulfire hair was long and intense, almost covering up the rest of her aura with its strength alone. It made sense that she was here. Dominions were at the top of the middle order and that meant they were in charge of both Virtues and Powers.


    Standing a few feet back from Glaraphel on either side of him was a pair of shorter Angels. One of their halos crackled with electricity, lightning arcing inside the golden circles, while the other had water crashing from one side to the other like waves. These were Virtues, and they commanded an element of their choosing at their creation.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Aside from the Dominion, everyone wore armor and had their swords out. They weren’t on fire, but being held in both hands with the tip on the ground. It certainly didn’t look like there was going to be a fight right out of the gate, and that gave me some hope.


    <<<>>>


    [[Patron Quest: Seek Peace!]]


    I’m sorry this took me so long. I was trying to word it in a way that would give you more information and didn’t go against my rules. Unfortunately, this is all I can give you.


    As a not-Nephilim, find a peaceful solution to this social conundrum.


    Objective: Avoid a fight.


    Reward: 15,000 points.


    <<<>>>


    I stopped for a moment about ten feet below the surface to read the text box. If they were Crusaders, then I’d have a slim chance for a peaceful resolution. If they were all Inquisitors, I’d have almost no chance. I was hoping for the former.


    Giving the sky a thumbs up, I emerged from the hole in the ground.


    “I seem to owe you an apology,” the Dominion said as she laid eyes on me. “Brother Glaraphel, you certainly did find yourself at odds with a Nephilim.”


    “Technically, my race says Half-Angel,” I offered, raising my hand in greeting. “I asked if—”


    Glaraphel took a step forward, raising his sword. “You do not get to speak in the presence of the—”


    The Dominion stopped the Power with a raise of her hand, and I met her eyes. There was an angular quality to her face that was as far from Sara as you could get, but the orange pupils reminded me of hers. The Angel gestured for me to keep speaking.


    This was already a better start than the last time, and I did as I was told. “I asked why it didn’t say Nephilim but never received a response. From the way I’ve been attacked and subsequently tracked down, I’d say I think I know why.”


    “Because it is heresy,” the Dominion replied, her voice firm as if she was reading the truth straight from a textbook. “Not only that, but I am led to believe that you fight as though you have had extensive experience killing Angels. Is this true?”


    That question made me frown, and I did everything I could to maintain a neutral pose. “While accurate, I wouldn’t call that entirely fair.”


    She arched an eyebrow as she rolled the golden ball of light between her fingers. “Tell me why.”


    “Because I have extensive experience fighting everything, to narrow it down to just Angels takes away from the wide breadth of knowledge that I have.”


    “You’re trying to convince me that you’ve fought so many enemies that you just so happen to be an expert in fighting Angels?” she asked, tilting her head.


    I pursed my lips in a thin smile. “While also accurate, I wouldn’t call that entirely fair either,” I responded. “On account of now you’re lumping enemies and Angels together. Can’t say I see any of you as enemies, except for one.”


    “Tell me who,” she demanded, not raising her voice.


    “Arontalscion.”


    The atmosphere suddenly became warmer as the Dominion’s soulfire hair became brighter. Snow began to melt around her. “You had better choose your next words carefully, Nephilim,” she warned. “Invoking the Fallen’s name should not be done lightly.”


    “Trust me, I’m not taking this situation lightly,” I replied, slowly holding up my hands in a placating manner. “I would like to thank you for speaking with me for so long. When I first met Glaraphel, I tried to explain myself to him and got pulled through a train window for my trouble. First, he wanted to take me away. When I didn’t comply, which I think was understandable, he told me that abominations get death, not answers. Didn’t even take the draw like I offered.”


    The Dominion turned to look at Glaraphel, and he stood straighter. “Inquisitors don’t back down,” he said proudly.


    “No, they do not,” she agreed.


    “Which is why we should handle him now,” Glaraphel continued. “He is clearly dangerous, and you have seen how these players are. They get more powerful by the hour. This Nephilim is no different.”


    “I’m very different,” I scoffed indignantly. “Though, if I can get some answers this time, what exactly are you here for? I don’t want to fight, but I’m confused as to why I haven’t been attacked yet.”


    Turning to face me, the Dominion looked down on me again. “I am not an Inquisitor. I am here to seek facts and make a judgment based on those facts.”


    “Ah, a Judge of the Crusaders, then,” I said, smiling. That was very good news for me. Judges only cared about facts, and I felt as though those were in my favor.


    “You know of our army?” she asked curiously.


    “Stationed up in Canada, yeah,” I confirmed. “Haven’t been there, but I know enough. The Seraphim Malphazarin is leading the efforts, getting ready for when the Demon Lord of Potential and his cohorts finally break out of their barrier.”


    “You know of Seraphims and Demon Lords,” the Dominion replied, narrowing her eyes. Her hair, however, finally dimmed. “Who are you?”


    “Anthony Franklin, and yourself?”


    It appeared as though Glaraphel was about to speak again, but she already knew that. Another gesture, and he took two steps back, ending up behind the Virtues. At the very least, he could take an order.


    “I am the Dominion, Tarleann,” she answered. That wasn’t a name I had heard of before, but I wasn’t surprised; there were a lot of Angels out there. “How do you know such things?”


    “If I say another name you don’t like, are you going to attack me?” I asked, crossing my arms. “Because I tried to drop another name before and it didn’t go over well. I’ll admit that I should have pushed harder for peace with Glaraphel but, in my defense, he chose violence every time.”


    Tarleann shook her head. “I assure you, player Anthony Franklin, we will only attack after judgment is rendered, and only if it is necessary.”


    “I’ll take you at your word, then,” I said cheerfully. Glancing up at the sky for a second, I looked back down at the Dominion and raised my left hand, pointing at my ring with my right. “I am the Avatar of the Angel of the End, Esaraphelscion.”


    “Blasphemy,” one of the Virtues said.


    “The Nephilim should not have the name of the Highest Sister on his tongue,” the other added.


    I hadn’t heard the term Highest Sister before, either. This was becoming a very fruitful conversation even if it did end in violence. It was starting to look like I would complete my quest, however.


    Tarleann didn’t stop their words, but looked down in thought. She had stopped moving the ball of golden light in her hand, and I knew she was taking it seriously. I did know to trust her word that she wouldn’t attack without warning, though, so I waited.


    “You have been in Hell,” she finally said. Her eyes had lifted and were now looking into mine with a rarely seen intensity.


    “I have.”


    “You went on a rampage,” she continued matter-of-factly.


    “I did.”


    “You stole the Armor of the End.”


    “Absolutely not,” I immediately denied.


    “The Highest Sister’s holy radiance was detected in Hell,” the first Virtue said.


    “If you went on a rampage in Hell, then you must have stolen her armor,” the other added.


    “It was freely given,” I corrected. “Though I assume you can’t just pop up there and ask.”


    “There is nowhere to pop to,” Tarleann said, using my terms. “There is only your word.”


    I nodded. “My word and my gear. I am her Avatar and she is my Patron. She granted me her power to do her work while she is trapped in the Halls of the End. She did that with this ring, Esaraphelscion’s Love, which turned me into a Half-Angel. Specifically a Half-Angel. It also gave me the ability to feed my soulfire with permanent Demon deaths and allowed me to wear the Armor of the End. In addition, she also purified the Demon Lord of Invention’s scalpel for me after I killed his vessel a while ago. Feel it for yourself.”


    With a flourish, I retrieved the Scalpel of Angelic Healing from In The Palm. Lifting it out of my hand, I gently Pushed it towards Tarleann. She gingerly plucked it out of the air with her free hand and brought it up to her eyes.


    I could sense Glaraphel’s shame rising in his aura. Before, there had been righteous anger that could only come from an Inquisitor, but now he was learning there was more to the situation. That had to be hard for him.


    “I agree, our Highest Sister did purify this,” Tarleann admitted. She held up the scalpel in her hand and I Pulled it back to me. “Interesting trick.”


    “Thanks, I’ve been working at it for a while,” I said. Once the weapon was back in its extradimensional space, I looked up at the Dominion. “So, what now?”


    “The laws of Heaven state that no Nephilim is allowed to walk on Earth,” she answered. “We cannot allow a hybrid of a Fallen Angel and human to go free. Whether they call themselves a Half-Angel or not has never factored into that decision before.”


    “I think I may have one more thing that may factor into your judgment,” I replied. “But, you have to promise me that none of you will attack out of instinct or anything of the sort.”


    “An odd request, considering I already told you that we would not attack before rendering judgment,” she remarked.


    “It’s an odd factor,” I retorted.


    Tarleann took another moment to think. “Very well, whatever you do next, we will not immediately count it as a hostile action.”


    “Thank you,” I said graciously. “Nephilim, Half-Angel, it sounds like it doesn’t mean much to you. However, it also sounds like there’s room where a distinction can be made between the two. If I were the first, then I need to be taken away or killed, correct?”


    “That is the way things should be,” Tarleann confirmed.


    “According to you, yes. If I’m labeled as a Half-Angel, then I get to go on my merry way, killing Demons, helping people, putting good out in the world. Do Esaraphelscion’s work. If I’m a Nephilim, then I can no longer do things like this.”


    “Like what?” she asked as I raised my hand.


    The corpse of the Demon Lord of Invention, Pustibule, fell to the ground. Demonic energy immediately spread out from it, overtaking the Angels. They took a step back, readying their weapons. Thunder shook the earth as the clouds suddenly became more active.


    Even in death, the might of a Demon Lord was powerful.


    The wind became more turbulent as Tarleann took a step forward. She held her glowing ball of light over the corpse, and a beam shot down to envelop it. Her eyes flashed gold as she received information, and she brought her free hand up to gasp. That was the most expression I had seen from her, and I tried to hide my smug smile.


    “We had received information that a Demon Lord had been slain in Hell, but it had been covered up. We had no hard evidence,” she said, bringing her hand from her mouth to her chest as if trying to calm her heart. “Esaraphelscion did this?”


    “I did this with her help,” I gently corrected. “And I don’t plan on stopping with just Pustibule. Zalzarog has a hit out on me specifically. Well. I assume that’s been picked back up now that the Demon Lord doesn’t have dibs. It doesn’t stop at Zalzarog. All the Demon Lords will fear my name, and the Emperor will fall at my feet.”


    Tarleann began studying me as if I was something interesting that she had seen for the first time rather than something to be judged and handled. Not willing to let the Demonic energy start to permanently change the area, I pulled the corpse back into my inventory. Everything started going back to normal aside from the rotten stench in the air.


    “So you have two options,” I continued. “You can label me a Nephilim. Try to take me back or kill me here, if you can. The four of you together might have a shot at that. Or, you can call me a Half-Angel. First of my kind, and I continue doing the work of the Highest Sister.”


    “May I see your ring?” Tarleann asked suddenly.


    I glanced up at the sky to make sure it was okay.


    <<<>>>


    [[Patron Message]]


    Yes.


    <<<>>>


    Without further hesitation, I took it off and walked up to her. The other three Angels hadn’t relaxed yet, but none tried to stop me. I held the ring up to Tarleann, and she took it.


    Holding it gingerly in her hand, she looked through it. “So much holy energy,” she whispered. “This should be a relic in its own right.”


    “And it’s only going to get more powerful,” I said. From my inventory, I retrieved Glaraphel’s halo and tossed it back to him. He snatched it from the air, staring, and I could see his dumbfounded face through his helmet thanks to my aura. “I could have fed that to it, you know. Gained the power of a… Power’s halo, but that wasn’t the right way to do things.”


    “It wouldn’t have been,” Tarleann agreed. She raised her ball of light to her own halo and ran it along the rim. She did it at the same speed that Sara had when she first gave me the ring, and I watched with interest. “I have come to a decision. I hereby decree that player Anthony Franklin, herald and Avatar of the Highest Sister, first of the Half-Angels, is no enemy of ours. All who bear the wings of Heaven shall know this to be true, and none below me shall argue. This, I have decreed.”


    “It has been decreed,” the two Virtues repeated in unison.


    “It has been decreed,” Glaraphel echoed in a voice that made me think he was about to hang his head, but he continued to stand proud.


    <<<>>>


    [[Patron Quest Complete!]]


    Oh, sweet bountiful Eden, I was really worried there.


    Thank you for this, Anthony. I know I wasn’t much help, but I just couldn’t bear to watch this fight if it played out that way. I’m glad everyone is okay.


    Reward: 15,000 points.


    <<<>>>


    I snapped away the message. Seeing how much she offered me, I could absolutely believe that she couldn’t watch me fight Angels even if she wanted to.


    While I was distracted, a second halo came out of the Tarleann’s. She gently placed it against Esaraphelscion’s Love. The ring sucked it in, glowing white for a moment before returning to its golden sheen.


    “I am not sure what this does, but it felt right that I do it,” she said before handing it back.


    I took it and placed it back on my ring finger. Being without it had felt strangely lonely, as if I wasn’t complete without it, and I wondered how sentimental about the ring I really was.


    Regardless, it was a powerful tool that I shouldn’t be taking lightly. Of course I was attached to it.


    “Thank you, Tarleann,” I said with a bow. “If it’s not too much, I’ll be off now. I have many places to go and not a lot of time.”


    The Dominion smiled gently on me. “Just one more thing, Avatar Anthony Franklin,” she said, turning to Glaraphel. “I have one more gift to give you. Glaraphel, as the one who found the first Half-Angel, you must accompany him and keep him safe. This, I have decreed.”


    My attention shifted from her to the Power as he came forward, each step resigned as he continued to hold his halo in his hands. “As you have decreed, Sister Tarleann.”


    “Absolutely not,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t need a babysitter.”


    “Not a babysitter, a bodyguard,” the Dominion replied before bringing her hand to her chin. “But if you feel strongly about it, let us negotiate.”


    I sighed. “Fantastic.”