Chapter Forty

An oppressive silence wafted over the battlefield as the soldiers reloaded their weapons. In these few minutes between volleys of artillery and gunfire, Aeron could see every man nervously shudder in their boots. "Half of them aren't going to survive this fight," he thought as the private next to him started to cry. To win wars, soldiers needed to be unwavering walls of courage and strength—none of these men showed those traits. Instead, what he saw were fathers and sons longing for home. Too afraid to commit to the charge and pull the trigger.

"I saw a few recruits praying near the northern end of the trench," Elizabeth whispered as she walked past him. To hide her gender, she had straightened her hair and covered her face with ash—a passable trick at best.

"You know, there's such a thing as trying too hard," Aeron said when he saw what she was carrying. Resting in her hands was a large box of medical supplies, filled to the brim with medicine and bandages. "Don't you remember what happened on the ship? You can't save these people." These men were about to sprint straight into the jaws of death. No amount of healing was going to help them. However, Elizabeth just smiled and shrugged.

"You're right, but what can I say? This is part of my nature." Aeron sighed. He couldn't fault her for that, but in some small way, he still pitied her for it. In his experience, people like her always had the saddest deaths.

"Hey, you two, over here!" He frowned when he heard Zia's voice pierce the silence. She didn't even try to deepen her tone to sound more masculine. If it weren't for the commander's whistle signaling the start of the assault, she would've been caught.

"Did you find the site?" he asked as bullets whizzed past their heads. With the war raging on in the background, Zia took out her map and showed it to the Cherub.

"It's a bit of a walk—but if we go through those woods—we should arrive within the hour," she told him as she pointed to a large forest to the west. Aeron nodded as he looked over his shoulder for any approaching patrols. Thankfully, since it was nighttime, sneaking away would be a simple endeavor. The second the four of them got the chance, they broke away from the trenches and headed towards the wall of trees. The blood-soaked ground crunched under their feet with every step. Bits and pieces of human flesh and shattered casings littered the area, with stray guns sticking out of the mud like gravestones.

"It feels like I'm walking through a lake of quicksand," Aeron thought as his feet sunk into the wet dirt. The closer they got to the trees, the harder the earth clung to their legs.

"Ah hell," Elizabeth cursed as her medical supplies came spilling out of her pockets. The second the bottles and bandages hit the ground, they vanished into the mud.

"We can always get more. Focus on the task at hand," Aeron told her as they finally arrived at the forest's entrance. The moment a stray branch was within reach, he leaped out of the mire and grabbed it.

"Thanks," Zia grunted as he helped her, Elizabeth, and Kashif, out of the muck. Sludge clung to their appendages like glue—greedily filling every nook and cranny with sopping filth. "Aeron, do you think you could use your fancy powers to get rid of this gunk?" she asked as she scraped her boots off on a nearby rock, but instead of answering the ambassador's question, the Angel narrowed his eyes and pressed his hand against a nearby tree.

"There's mold here," he thought as a familiar soft sensation went across the breadth of his palm. After that, he reached down and broke off a small piece of the afflicted bark, but not without a significant amount of effort. "What the hell?" A sickening orange residue clung to the back of the crust, holding onto it like a powerful adhesive. "This tree is infected with something; I'm not sure what," he finally spoke as he got up and smelled his hands, which were caked in the sticky substance.

"Ugh… whatever that stuff is, it smells like a dumpster," he heard Elizabeth groan as she tossed him a rag to clean himself with.

"It's rancid, that's for sure." It was going to be a while before he forgot this stench. Surprisingly, however, the mold's pungent aroma wasn't what shocked him the most. What made his eyes go wide was its familiarity.

"Kelpies," Zia mumbled as she took in a breath of the powerful odor. "Of course, it had to smell like kelpies." Upon closer inspection, she realized that the mold was the same species they found growing on that editor's corpse. "Elizabeth, Kashif, do me a favor and keep your weapons close. We might need them." After that, Zia squinted and scanned over the dense forest. The intermingling web of branches that hung above their heads was filled to the brim with squirrels and other small animals. With every artillery shell that exploded on the battlefield, a family of rodents would scurry back into their dens. "Well, let's get going; the dig site is right on the other side of this forest," she told them as she drew her pistol and walked into the woods.

The musty trees surrounding them were all covered in the same putrid fungi. Their roots—which jutted out of the ground—oozed the disgusting orange substance all over the forest floor. In the crevices where puddles of this pus formed, swarms of flies hovered over the ground. Root maggots greedily ate away at the trees' rotting bark, creating tiny holes that spewed out even more of the liquid. "So, the kelpies are the ones responsible for spreading this stuff?" Elizabeth asked as she stepped over one of the maggot-covered mires.

"Yes—and if the sorry state of these woods is anything to go by—there must be a lot of them, so stay alert," Aeron spoke as a pile of twigs crunched under his feet, the sound causing a flock of crows to shoot out of the canopy. The four of them hiked through the rotting forest for what seemed like ages until, finally, they arrived at a small clearing.

"Huh, doesn't this place bring back memories?" Zia said as Aeron looked around the small, open patch. "It reminds me of that forest in Purgatory. You know, the one where we eavesdropped on that Demon of a doctor." All that it was missing was a small cave in the center. Aeron nodded in agreement as he took out his map.

"If we keep this current pace, we should arrive in five minutes or so," he exclaimed as he watched another group of birds soar overhead. Every two seconds, a new one would fly out to follow the flock. If it weren't for the fact that they were in the middle of a creepy forest, it would've been quite the pretty sight. However, it also had another meaning. "I think someone's coming," he mumbled as he raised his right hand, signaling them all to stop. Immediately afterward, he heard a loud crunch echo through the woodland, along with the foreboding sound of boots slapping against mud. Without thinking, Kashif and Elizabeth reached for their weapons and moved to place themselves between Zia and the source of the footsteps. "Put your guns away!" Aeron whispered as he forced the bodyguards to lower their firearms. "We're a stone's throw from a war. They could be soldiers!"

"Soldiers? Here?" Elizabeth scoffed. No man would dare set foot in a thicket this infested with rot. However, when she saw how serious the Cherub was, she frowned and holstered her pistol. "Are you certain? What about that mold?" For all they knew, those footsteps could belong to a swarm of kelpies.

"I didn't say you should drop your guard," Aeron told her as his eyes narrowed. As he predicted, a small group of soldiers came strolling out of the trees. Each one was drenched in that foul orange muck from head to toe. "Hey!" he howled at their uninvited guests. At this point, sneaking away wasn't an option.

"What are you doing?" Zia whispered while the platoon steadily inched closer. Every so often, one of the soldier's guns would clink against their belt buckles, making her twitch. It felt like—at any moment—a hail of bullets would come raining down on their heads.

"Let's at least try to do this peacefully. In their eyes, we're just regular civilians," Aeron muttered. Even while talking to Zia, his gaze never left the soldiers' leading officer. The unnatural way the man walked gave off the impression that he was staring at a corpse.

"You four! Identify yourselves!" one of them commanded as he aimed his gun right at the center of Aeron's chest. The man had a deep, gravelly voice that rattled the ears. It sounded like he was talking underwater. However, before he could say any more, one of his comrades cut him off.

"Sorry about my friend here—he's a bit paranoid," the other soldier said in a smooth and reassuring tone. But there was something about it that sounded forced. "If you folks don't already know, this stretch of forest is right next to a battleground. If you're able, I highly recommend leaving." Aeron frowned as the soldier took a step closer to them; he really didn't like the way this man spoke.

"Sorry, but we're not leaving," Zia announced, which made the troops' eyes go wide. "There's no law that keeps us from being here. So, if you all would be so kind, we'd like to be on our way." The faces the regiment made when she said that sent a chill down Aeron's spine. He wasn't sure what exactly it was, but their expressions were… inhuman… to say the least.

"Ma'am, please, this area is dangerous!" the soldier from before said—his voice louder and sterner—as he reached for Zia's coat. For a moment, Aeron could detect a familiar stench wafting off the man's body. When he realized what it was, his lips pursed into a fine line, and he reached for his gavel. "Please, we're professionals. We'll ensure that you and your friends get home safe—" he was cut off. Before any of them knew what was happening, Aeron pressed his gavel against the warrior's temple and pulled the trigger. The sound of the singular gunshot echoed far into the forest, causing hundreds of nearby critters to flee the clearing. As the bullet casing from the weapon fell unceremoniously onto the ground, he grimaced and stared at the fresh corpse he'd made. As he expected, no blood came out of the wound. Instead, sickening blue pus poured out of the soldier's body.

"N-now you've done it," the thing hissed. His previous voice was now replaced with a monstrous accent. Instantly, several giant tentacles exploded out of the creature's head, causing pieces of skull and flesh to be thrown about the forest floor. The fiend's new appendages were as white as sea foam and were covered in sharp, pointed suction cups. Immediately afterward, the other soldiers all started to shake and grunt. One by one, tentacles erupted out of each of their craniums, creating a symphony of broken meat and bone.

"Hit the deck!" Aeron yelled as one of the monsters' tentacles lashed out at them. When he saw that Zia was moving too slowly, he jumped and practically tackled her to the ground. The sharpened flesh whip tore through the air above their heads and effortlessly cut through the trees behind them. Thankfully, Kashif pushed them out of the way before the logs fell.

"I know that dying isn't an issue for us, but please try to be more careful," the bodyguard said as he caught one of the slimy arms; however, he quickly let go. The sharp suction cups had torn chunks out of his flesh, exposing the bone. "Damn… I thought I could grab it!" he thought as Elizabeth pulled him out of the fray.

"Why did you do that?!" the girl yelled as she buried three shots into the nearest monster. "Unless the wound is mortal, we don't heal!" Now it was Kashif's turn to scoff.

"A little pain is nothing," he grunted. Not giving them a moment's rest, one of the creatures leaped into the air and lunged towards them. The second it got within arm's reach, the mass of tentacles that covered its head moved apart to reveal a hideous gaping maw. Several rows of sharp teeth lined its gums—each one wrapped in a thick layer of blood and gore. Kashif slammed his injured arm down the creature's throat and forced it to the ground. The sheer weight behind his attack shattered the monster's ribs. "Angel! I could use your help!" he called out as he struggled to free himself from the abomination's hook-like fangs.

"Then shut up and move," the Cherub told him as Kashif leaned back. When he was sure that he had enough space, Aeron pulled the trigger—completely incinerating the monster's corpse. "Now then," he stated as he turned to face the rest of their enemies. However, before he could do anything else, Zia stopped him.

"Aeron! Wait! Don't kill them all just yet!" she screeched as she shot an approaching tentacle. "These guys aren't like kelpies!" she yelled. "They seem to be intelligent! If we can capture one, we might be able to get some answers out of it!"

"Hmm… you know, that's not a bad idea," Aeron conceded as he aimed his gavel at the largest of the monsters. "You all heard the lady. Are there any volunteers?" he asked as he rested his index finger on his weapon's hammer, causing the horrors to flinch.

"That's a judge's gavel; he must be the one the boss told us about," one of the strongest fiends commented. When he heard that, Aeron raised one of his eyebrows.

"Do you mind if you tell me who this 'boss' is? I'd love to speak with them," he hissed, the venom in his tone practically dripping off his tongue. However—even after all of that—the monster didn't twitch. Instead, the creature started to laugh.

"You're far from the most powerful being on this planet, little Angel," it said, its tentacles parting to reveal its mouth. "After all, without that toy of yours, you're completely defenseless!" As the creature screamed, a sizeable red tendril exploded out of its throat and started to convulse wildly. Suddenly, small, dagger-like spines sprouted up along the red limb's surface—growing progressively larger with every passing second. Before Aeron had the chance to act, the creature flung its tendril through the air, causing the spines to break away and come flying towards him. On instinct, he raised his arms to shield his face, causing the spikes to skewer his forearms and hands.

"Aeron!" Zia yelled, rushing to the Angel's side as he brushed off the crimson quills. "Are you okay?" she asked while the giant monster chuckled. Moments later, the Cherub felt his arms drop to his sides, and his hands seemed to freeze up.

"What the—?!" they heard him yell as he strained to move his paralyzed appendages. "That creature… those spines it shot into me must've been filled with some sort of immobilizing toxin," he thought as he gritted his teeth. This was going to be a problem.

"Our liege told us all about you, judge," the abomination exclaimed as several more devils crawled out of the forest. "Without the use of your arms, you can't use that fancy weapon, which means you can't defend yourself." Aeron bit his lip as he took a step back. As much as he hated to admit it, the creature was right.

"Whoever's in charge of this group of monsters sure knows a lot about judges." The fact that they targeted him first was proof of that. "If those spines could do this to me, an Angel, I don't want to know what they'd do if they hit Zia or the guard dogs." In the worst-case scenario, the paralyzing toxin would cause their mortal bodies to freeze up completely.

"Hey, Templar, what's the plan?" Elizabeth asked as she randomly fired into the approaching swarm of creatures. However, her efforts were useless. It was like trying to stop a tidal wave with a sandcastle. Nothing more than an exercise in futility.

"Ugh… it pains me to have to say it… but I think we're going to have to run," he muttered as he jumped over a swinging tentacle, his arms flailing loosely through the air. "Even though we can't die, we can still be captured." All it would take was a few more well-aimed spines, and it would be over.

"Charge! Turn them into pincushions!" the leader yelled as the main bulk of the horde rushed towards them. Not wasting a moment, Aeron turned around and leaped into the forest—his comrades hot on his heels.

"Do you think you can fly us out of here?" Zia asked as she jumped over a large, rotten log. Aeron frowned and shook his head.

"Without my arms, I'd just get plucked out of the sky." Until the toxin wore off, he was a sitting duck. "No… right now, we should focus on avoiding them," he told her as his left pinky started to twitch. It was faint, but slowly, he was beginning to regain some feeling in his hands and forearms.

"Heads up!" Kashif screeched. "We've got trouble!" The second he got the chance, the bodyguard pointed to a sizable tree near the end of the path. Like the rest of the forest, it was covered in mold and was oozing putrid orange pus. A large group of abominations waited atop the tree's rotten branches, gleefully twirling their tentacles through the air like giddy children. Instantly, almost as if they were standing in the middle of a swarm of locusts, the hanging creatures descended upon them. "Shit!" Aeron heard Kashif curse as a slimy limb hidden in the underbrush shot out and grabbed the man's shoulder.

"Kashif!" Before the tentacle had a chance to dig into the warrior's flesh, Elizabeth grabbed a nearby rock and slammed it into the monster's arm. Almost as if she had punched a mound of clay, the stone left behind a deep indentation in its skin. However, even though she got rid of one tentacle, seven more sprung up to take its place. They wrapped around Kashif's body—their suction cups greedily eating away at his form—before turning their attention to her.

"Elizabeth! Run! Go with Zia and the Templar!" her partner screamed as he tried his best to squirm out of his bindings. "The worst these devils can do is cut off my arms! They can't kill me! So, don't worry about that! I'll find a way to escape!" he yelled as he bit down on one of the exposed limbs. It felt as if he was chewing on solid steel.

"Kashif," Elizabeth mumbled—obviously shocked at the prospect of leaving the man behind. Sadly, at that point, there were no other options. With frustrated tears in her eyes, she nodded and hurried to find the rest of their band—who were busy dealing with another group of horrors. However, before she could even start to move, something grabbed her ankle and yanked her to the dirt. "Guh!" she roared out in pain as she landed right on top of a large pile of stones. Instantly, the fiends swarmed her and latched onto her exposed legs. Elizabeth's eyes twitched in pain as she felt the suction cups tear into her thighs. Blood flowed like a river from her fresh injuries as she was swiftly dragged back towards the horde.

"Oh no, Elizabeth!" Zia cried out when she finally realized what was happening. But it was far too late. She had been snared in the monsters' hooks, and they weren't going to let go anytime soon. When Zia tried to pull her free, the bodyguard recoiled back and screamed.

"It's too late!" she told her in between gasps of agony. "If you keep going like this, you're going to tear them off!" the girl griped as she reloaded her pistol. "My top priority will always be your safety, Ms. Lombardi, so go."

"Elizabeth…" Zia started right as the neighboring bushes began to rustle and shake.

"We're out of time!" Elizabeth announced as she forcefully freed herself and pushed Zia away. "Run! Get out of here! Focus on finding the Scale!" With every word, Elizabeth was pulled further and further back into the dark forest. When the ambassador tried to help, a pair of tentacles sprung out of the tall grass and blocked her path. The sound the grimy appendages made when they slammed against the rock was like the divine hammer of God. There was nothing she could do.

"Elizabeth! Kashif! I promise you that I'll be back!" she yelled as she mowed down an approaching creature. "So, stay strong!" After she said that, Zia heard Elizabeth chuckle as the bodyguard filled the air with bullets.

"We will, Ms. Lombardi, now get going!" Kashif said as he freed one of his arms—which was now covered in deep wounds—and impaled some of the abominations on a nearby branch. In this moment of confusion, Zia gritted her teeth and ran away.

"Let me guess, those two aren't coming?" Aeron wondered as his arms bounced lazily at his side, his gavel periodically bumping against his hips. "Once we're in a position to retaliate, I know we'll get them back," he told her with the cheeriest expression he could manage as light poured through the canopy. They must've been nearing the exit to this damnable forest.

"I know, but still… it's horrifying," Zia spoke as she lightly touched her cheek. "When your fate is in the hands of devils like that, death can serve as a release." There was only so much pain a mortal could experience before letting go. However—for people like them—that wasn't a problem. "Trauma like that… it does things to people… it changes them. It changed me," she mumbled as she wrapped her hands around her arms, which were now shaking in fear. "I don't want that fate for those two. They didn't do anything to deserve it." Aeron's eyes went wide as he watched tears stream down Zia's face, he had never seen her like this before.

"Those two mean a lot to you, don't they?" he asked as they dived behind a large thicket just as a veritable cloud of spines shot through the forest. Aeron cringed as he felt the thin, red needles riddle the wood—almost like a war drum. As Zia wiped the tears from her eyes, she bit her lip and held her pistol close. The erratic visage staining the ambassador's gaze spoke volumes, and Aeron knew precisely what they were trying to say. "That's a bad idea!" he exclaimed as he watched Zia get up. She wanted to go back. "Don't be a fool! Where's the calm and collected Zia Lombardi that I know?! Snap out of it!" The stern tone he gave her was almost like a parent reprimanding a child. However, at that point, he felt as if that was the only way he could get through to her. "You hired those two as your bodyguards! So, stop disrespecting them and let them do their jobs! It's because they're keeping the bulk of the horde busy that we aren't being overrun right now!"

"Aeron…" Zia started as she stared at the Angel, shocked. For the first time since they met, she finally felt that she was talking to the real Aeron Weber, not the cocky judge that she ran into all that time ago in Purgatory. The emotions that washed over the Cherub's face weren't fake. He truly was worried about her and her comrades. "Heh, well, isn't this just peachy?" she sighed as she returned to her spot behind the rotting trunk. "Ah… that's funny," she continued as Aeron raised one of his eyebrows. "You're confused."

"Confused about what?" he asked, causing Zia to let out a somber chuckle.

"Tell me, before today, have you ever cared about anyone besides yourself?" she asked as a red spike shot through the trunk and whizzed past their heads. When he didn't respond, Zia smiled and shrugged. "I'm sure you've got a few people back at the Bureau that you can call your friends, but until now, I never got the impression that you counted us among them." Aeron scoffed and leaned back against the soft ground.

"What brought this on?" For a moment, he thought that Zia had hit her head, but when the Angel realized she was serious, he let out a small chortle.

"It took a long time for me to figure you out, Aeron Weber. The Bureau likes to parade you around like some godlike figure—their immortal pet Angel who judges sinners without mercy, but I think you're just bored of it all." The smug, slightly sad smile that spread across Zia's face when she said that made his blood run cold.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked as he awkwardly pushed his frozen right arm onto one of his legs. "I mean, I could just be another Cherub. We aren't known to be lenient to those from the lower levels and regular mortals." If anyone in Heaven knew about his kinds' twisted nature, it was Zia Lombardi. However, yet again, she just grinned and shook her head.

"Don't bother comparing yourself to them. It's a waste of energy," she spoke as she held her pistol up next to her head, readying herself for the monsters' next assault. "I was just speaking the truth, that's all." Stressful situations like this did wonders for bringing out the honesty in people, including God's precious Cherubs.

"I'm not sure what you're planning to do with that crappy little pistol, but stop; we'll all be in trouble if you get captured." He knew that she wanted to save her subordinates, but that just wasn't possible with her current gear. However, even though the ambassador was facing an uphill battle, he couldn't bring himself to stop her any longer. Whenever he opened his mouth to speak, he saw a fire blazing in her eyes that he found endearing. After a while, he sighed and gave in. "If you're serious about helping Kashif and Elizabeth, then take this," he told her as he awkwardly shook his arm out of his jacket.

"What in the world are you doing?" Zia asked, clearly confused. Instead of answering the ambassador's question, he grunted and used his right leg to shake his gavel loose from its leather holster. Once the weapon was free, he kicked the device over to Zia.

"It feels like the toxin won't wear off for at least another four hours. So, until that happens, you should be the one to carry my gavel." As he spoke, Aeron frowned and gritted his teeth. Having both of his arms paralyzed was starting to take its toll. "If you use its power, I'm certain that you'll be able to save them." With every word that came out of his mouth, a tiny wisp of frozen breath wafted into the air.

"What are you talking about?" Zia started as leaves in the distance began to rustle; the horde of creatures must've been getting close. "Unless I'm mistaken, Mr. Angel, I thought that only judges could use gavels." When she said that, Aeron grinned and let out a pained chuckle.

"That's nothing more than a common misconception," he added as he stretched his neck back. "What defines us judges isn't our title; it's our imaginations." The source of his strength stemmed from his resolve to walk down paths his fellow judges wouldn't dare tread. His only limits were those he set for himself. And while no judge had ever tried to do what he was about to attempt, he knew it wasn't outside the realm of possibility. "Zia Lombardi, I'm going to make you a judge." The words tasted foul as they stumbled out of his mouth.

"Me? A judge? What are you talking about, Aeron?" Zia asked, clearly confused, as a piece of debris flew towards her. It was going so fast that neither of them noticed it until the large splinter of rock burrowed through her left thigh. She yelped in pain as she reached down and ripped the sliver out, flinging chunks of blood and torn skin across the forest floor.

"Shit!" Aeron yelled. "They're right on top of us!" he continued as the hairs on the back of his neck shot up. Not wasting a moment, the Angel turned back to Zia and stared right into her eyes. "Listen, I know what I'm saying must be confusing, but trust me—this is our only chance," he said as he kicked the gavel closer to the injured ambassador. "I'm going to transfer my templar rank over to you, and once I do, you should be able to use my weapon!"

"Hey, stop, slow down for a second!" Zia shouted as she pinched the bridge of her nose. What Aeron was saying didn't make any sense. "If that gavel can do anything, why don't we use it to fix your arms?" After all, judges were supposed to have the powers of gods, so why resort to something as risky as transferring the weapon's ownership?

"That's not how it works," he rattled on. "It's hard to explain, but you'll understand once you start using it. Gavels aren't as easy to wield as you might think." The immense breadth of a soul's mind was not a beast that could be easily tamed. Years of experience were necessary to truly master the judge's gavel. And when it came to something as complex as removing a toxin from an Angel's body, the weapon would become practically unusable in the hands of a rookie. "For your attacks, I recommend starting small. Focus on creating small bombs and tools. Anything larger than that could be dangerous. Remember, you'll be using the power of the judges. One wrong move, and you could accidentally erase the souls you're trying to save. Do you understand?" He could tell that Zia's mind was swirling with numerous questions and ideas; however, when the ambassador saw the steeled look in his gaze, she backed off—begrudgingly accepting his gift. "Good, now then, pick up the gavel and wrap my left hand around its handle."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Zia mumbled as she followed his instructions. "I mean, I'm probably the last person in the Universe who should be given this power." When she said that, Aeron scoffed and chortled.

"Trust me—compared to my spineless coworkers—you're already more than qualified. And even though you hate the Bureau and my kind, I can't think of anyone else I'd be willing to lend my powers to," Aeron said, his lips curling into a warm smile. "Now then, are you ready?" he whispered as he heard a swarm of footsteps rapidly approach their position. After a moment or two, Zia returned his smile and nodded. "Okay then," he began as he closed his eyes. "If you're truly ready, then place my left pointer finger on the trigger and pull the hammer back." Without uttering a word, Zia did as she was instructed while nervously holding her breath. "Okay, now all you have to do is fire, and I'll start the transfer." Aeron frowned when he felt Zia's rough hand wrap around his own and sighed. This was going to be rough.

"After I do this, you should probably head straight for the other end of the forest. We can't afford to waste another moment," Zia whispered as she slipped her pistol into Aeron's holster. Yet again, the Angel chuckled. "Don't give me that! Just take the damn thing!" She wouldn't feel right if she left him without a weapon. "Heh, you're giving me the power of the judges, and all I'm giving you in return is a dinky little pistol." In some twisted way, she found this situation kind of humorous, and so did Aeron. As the pair shared one last round of laughter—with the horde of creatures nearly on top of them—Zia smiled, let out the breath she was holding, and let the chamber loose. "Don't get caught," she finished as a soothing blue light washed over their bodies. And, with that, the torch was passed on, and a new judge was born.

From the desk of Jeremy Knight: A Brief Study on the Philosophy of Angels...

As mentioned in previous chapters, most of creation generally look down upon fallen Angels. Heaven's fervent stigma against its sinful residents permeates through every pore of the realm. And while this reflects poorly on the reputation of some Cherubs, it also brings to light many of the races' other lesser-known biases.

One such issue is that most Angels are stark conservationists who have little patience for mortals. This is the reason why that—even when mortal souls pass on to Heaven—only a tiny percentage of them ever get a chance to see an Angel. When one does show up, it's usually only for a short period. This period usually goes hand in hand with The Bureau of Judgmental Affairs' schedule. Even though there is a severe hatred for judges amongst the Angels' more conservative groups, this has undergone some change in recent times. With the appointment of the new templar, Aeron Weber—the first-ever Cherub to obtain the position—the Angels' prejudices against the Bureau might be subject to some much-needed reformation. However, even if that is the case, the time required for such a significant cultural upset to take root would be tremendous.