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After the End

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'The war really wasted no time at the beginning.' Raphael thought wryly as he ducked behind a wall to avoid a blast of hellfire. By the time he and Asher had realized the were not -in point of fact- watching over the Antichrist, it was too late. 

He threw a bolt of his grace at where the hellfire seemed to be coming from, pinned down in his current spot for fear of chancing the flames. They could do a lot of damage. He would need to retreat, there was no way he could hold this position any longer.

"Well well well... What have we here?" 

The Angel jerked away from the unexpected voice. Its very tone leaving an unpleasant oily feeling on his skin. A flicker of grace formed in his fingers for a second before his hair was grabbed and he was thrown to the ground. A startled cry escaping him as his concentration broke and the light on his fingers popped out of existence.

His arms were pulled behind his back and bound. A sigil was scratched into his back. Not enough to do any real damage per se... Whatever it was had the effect of leaving his head fuzzy and unable to concentrate. He was dragged unceremoniously to his feet and out of his hiding space. The angels had been forced to retreat this round. A few prisoners of war had been taken from both sides... And it seemed that Raphael was among them. 

Gold eyes focused a little more when he was pushed to his knees in front of the throng. "Looks like we've caught a ranked one." There were demons standing in a loose semicircle around him. 

"Lord Beelzebub did say we could keep any spoils." A finger under his chin tilting his head up. Eyes defiant. "Looks like we'll need to teach him how to behave. You don't get to glare angel. It's not your place." 

Hellfire is a terrible substance. It's not simply flames. It's an almost living thing. Viscus and malleable and yet at the same time not. It was like oil, napalm, acid. Raphael hissed as his head was yanked back, golden glare never relenting as the demon pulled a little bottle from its pocket and popped the lid open. "Time to teach you your new place in life." The bottle was overturned in his face, flames a living being as they scorched his eyes. 

He screamed . The pain was overwhelming and the hand on his hair literally the only thing that kept him from falling to the ground. He struggled against the restraints, wanting to claw at his eyes to make the pain cease. It didn't. It was a living entity in its own way. 

Thankfully the overwhelming pain soon gave way to the blackness of unconsciousness.