Fake Hero [1]

-(Present || Moments before System descended; Location: Somewhere in Great Universe)-

A man was standing in front of a massive glass pane and watching the night sky outside. He was adorning a white and golden archaic armor, his silver hair extended to his waist and his blue eyes reflected the destruction ongoing outside as two races clashed against each other.

Despite his human-like appearance three pairs of unfurled white wings were attached to his back.

"Archangel-nim, we've reached the enemy doorsteps. With our current progression, we'll quell the rebels in a few weeks."

Another man with one pair of white wings and slightly inferior armor spoke while dropping to his knees.

"Good work. You should go."

At the words of the archangel, the trooper left. A small sigh escaped Michael's lips, finally, after months of constant strifes he would be able to return to the great lands.