by Lyndsey Ellis-Holloway
His wings were ablaze, the heat intense as he marched upon the Golden City, alone.
Sammael tore the Gates of Heaven from their hinges, leaving rivers of molten gold in his wake.
The Host tried to stop him, but they could not. They would not. Any who tried were devoured by flame or cut asunder by Scythe.
Entering God’s Throne room, he smiled darkly. “Father, I’m home.” Sammael closed his eyes, hands spread wide, his flames swirling around him.
A deafening explosion shook the Earth and the inferno swallowed Heaven, raining ash on the world below.