Inked Wings
Tenth Event

Tenth Event - Chosen Epilogue

“Peace of mind is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it.”

Ash flies in the forest air. The trees are deforming, most are crushed by the size of the mothership’s remains.

The wind whistles above Angel’s wings. Noel is holding onto Angel’s arms, put under his armpits.

They are flying over the ruins. Above thousands of people trying to escape the rubble, most injured. Above corpses. Kinkade is nowhere to be seen, buried deep into the artificial earth.

There is a figure they recognise. Eight-six cries over her late sister. Tales died by a pillar through the stomach.

It is still inside her.

Noel does pity them.

Somewhere east and outside the crash area, Angel lands. He lets go of Noel, who stumbles.

‘You – okay?’ Angel musters to say.

Noel clicks his tongue while shaking his feet. ‘Super, duper -!’ Being dramatic, he continues. ‘- dead inside.’

Half a smile forms on Angel’s face. ‘You alright.’

Crackling.

Angel’s wings rise in a flash. He turns around with a whip, and Noel is pulled behind him.

‘You -’ Eight-six is limping toward the two. She points with what is left of her blade, the level of Noel’s heart. ‘I’m going to...to skin you.’

Angel tenses.

He shows his fangs, his eyes gone wild when thinking her words right back at her.

This cursed person…she is part of Noel’s abduction, of Noel’s near death experience. Agitation picks at his nerves, the familiar anger washing over him.

That anger he felt when he lost Noel to her, the numbness in his bones, when he lost Hashem to them. Angel feels the impatience, the numb bones, the awful feeling he had when he mauled his army friend’s killer. It is not vengeance. It feels uglier: this pure hatred.

Vengeance appears exciting. This…this is agonizingly powerful.

Pressure vaguely snaps him out of it. The corner of his eye gives Noel attention.

The boy is sheltering behind him still, his grip on Angel’s right arm. Noel lightly shakes his head, changing looks between her and Angel. ‘We…we can just leave.’

Factually, Noel is correct. Tales is injured and has but a full blade to hurt them.

Yet, Angel does not see it. He sees her broken mask and wishes he plunged that sharp piece through and out of her brain when he had the chance.

‘Stay here,’ Angel tells Noel.

He is certain she will come back without stopping. Angel made the mistake of letting her go once before, not any longer. He leans forward, ready to dash and finish what was started.

‘Look away.’ He advises before his wings open slightly.

Angel is ready to shake Noel off when:

‘Angel.’ A grave tone calls.

He hears his name.

Eight-six is slowly closing in, her leg shattering with each delayed step.

‘Angel.’ Noel repeats. ‘Please, let’s leave. She can’t do anything right now.’

Angel takes a moment, trying to remember if he’s ever heard Noel call his second name.

Certainly, he did not ever hear it from him, not properly. Usually hold the “shitty” in front.

He is unsure as to why it is affecting him as much as it does.

Shoulders and wings drop.

Angel lets out a frustrated puff while knowing there will not be any satisfaction afterwards, so he lets this new feeling fill his heart to the trim. He wants to get Noel out of here more than anything; he does.

Eight-six screeches. ‘What are you waiting for?!’

She throws her blade, falling at Angel’s feet.

He glances at it, then at her.

Angel picks Noel up and takes flight.

/]/]/]/]/]

The colors of the arched sky are changing, offering the illusion of the natural.

The blues turn to a purple grid with orange hues which are emerging.

Angel lands on one familiar skyscraper, in Grant City.

The view gives them the impression of being mesmerizing.

Legs crossed, he waits out, watching the sundown. Noel sits next to him.

The star slowly dives further past the edge of the district; more flickering dots are being added to the canvas being overlaid in black and dark-purple colors.

Angel inhales.

The sky’s current in Grant City is his favorite. Sheer power, is this hybrid of wind.

His body jumps at Noel’s head crashing into his shoulder. Noel mirrors Angel’s body language, his head resting against the side of Angel’s arm.

‘Don’t. Comment. I’m only dizzy because of the concussion.’ Noel quickly justifies it.

Angel blinks.

’The what ?’

END.

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