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If God ever needed a hatchet man Michael was always there to knock heads. Before he was commander of Heaven's army Michael made a name for himself as a nightmare on the battlefield. From the beginning he was the ideal soldier; unquestioning, unwavering, undeniable in his strength and conviction. Battle after battle Michael
s faith serve as his greatest asset. When God tested the angels' faith by sending them on missions from which they would probably not return all but Michael complained. Those were the days when he and Gabriel and Uriel were like brothers. All Gabriel and the others had was the camaraderie of angels to support them, but Michael had an inexhaustible strength.
It wasn't all their fault for losing faith. Those time saw the most primeval and savage demons in their prime, and abominations walked the Earth with strength so immense man's memory must've omitted them in order to protect its sanity; whoever knows the horrors that beset man an angel alike scoffs at any threat now. Those who found a life outside heaven, out of the war, were cursed for their intermingling with the humans; and so were subsequent generations. The Nephilim who were hunted, albeit reluctantly at first, seen as angels themselves by many, eventually became trophies for their difficulty to kill. They were enormous abominations, resembling the celestial forms of the angels, and they proved that the fusion of souls is a powerful weapon. It is hard to imagine all of these giants were killed.
It wasn't just the demons and deserters, though. To be number one you have to beat everyone. For the angels and their Creator this meant other gods as well. It wasn't easy, but eventually the angels, thanks in no small part to the tactical genius of Michael, started to drive the other gods back, and expanded their territory. Gods were slain, assimilated, and a new class of angels was created: Elohim; and He saw that it was good.
"Michael, heard you got promoted. The big guy wants you to head up the new class. Impressive! Not just anybody gets to be in charge of gods."
"I suppose so... I heard you've had a change of post as well."
"That's a nice way to put it. I've been demoted to errand boy. I d--!"
"There's no shame in being God's messenger." Michael put a hand up to diffuse Gabriel's tension.
"I dealt with Lilith!" To no avail. He'd grown immune to Michael's calming air a while ago. "Those were the days; when the beating of our wings was the death knell for gods and devils alike; when entire world trembled at the mention of our names. We were brothers, you and I!"
"We still are," said Michael assuringly. "To be selected as God's messenger is no small achievement. Plenty of angels would kill for that position."
"They still get to."
"Come now..."
"Well?"
"It isn't my power." He didn't know how to say it, but somewhere in the tone of Gabriel's voice might have been a messenger crying out to Michael that he was losing his strength, his life, and wouldn't be able to hold up his part of Heaven.
"No, it isn't. It's mine, Uriel's, Samael's, Lucifer's too."
"...No'" Michael had turned away from his friend now as if to hold his confidence hostage.
"No?" Gabriel set the sword he'd been playing with down like a annoying kid and stepped to see Michael.
"You're wrong. It isn't any of our strengths. Not Samael's, not Uriel's, not Lucifer's. There is only one strength." He pointed across a lake of clouds which lay quietly under the terrace Michael'd built earlier that day, such was the mutability of Heaven in those early days, to an unparalleled palace: the house of God. Gabriel was speechless. Sure, he made a couple snorts, but he wouldn't dare disagree with Michael.
"I understand..."
"I pray that you do."
"Whatever that means."
"What if you keep fighting for yourself and your brothers?"
"Then I'll be a happy angel."
"Then you'll be the same as them." Michael put a hand up to quell Gabriel's protesting fire. "The demons have loyalty, sure, but it is only to themselves and the power of their family names... And pride."
"I am not Legion."
"I'm not saying you are. You know as well as anyone here that is not faith; and that that is the reason we fight them."
"Are you saying I have no faith!" Gabriel was livid now. He could have strangled Michael if he didn't admire him so.
"No, quite the opposite. The messenger of God has to have faith; otherwise what would he bring to those unholy ones bust cold steel? Trust me when I say, Gabriel, that the Creator doesn't make mistakes." They went on to reminisce for a while after that before Gabriel left, sampling nectar and ambrosia from Olympus that had arrived earlier in the week. Soon after Gabriel was made to spread the Word, and Michael, now that most of the fighting had settled to occupation, was made general in Heaven's army.
From there a distance started to form between he and Gabriel. Not by their choice, surely, but by bureaucracy and the inevitable tensions of a lif in stagnation. Michael had begun having dreams, visions, of screaming seraphim; brothers would cross swords and dimensions would creak and bow under the weight of he battle, and Cherubim would rush in with tear stung eyes to repair the gaps and cracks in the cosmos. When he went to the Lord to ask for guidance he was assured of nothing but his importance in the cataclysm. Michael, intuiting this to mean his dream will come true, asked then about Gabriel, worried he might have to fight his friend who he didn't see in his dreams. The Lord assured him saying, "His faith lies elsewhere. He cannot harm you."
It wasn't too much longer that the tetragrammaton and his regime caught real traction; with the advent of the written Word humanity was worshipping much more steadily. This was the goal of any kingdom: steady expansion. With that is getting the word out; with getting the word out is a messenger; with the title messenger goes the name Gabriel. Prophets describe his glory throughout the ages as nearly indescribable, and Gabriel found it curious the things humans did: in the way they carried on while the glorious expansion of the Kingdom was at their door; how they could ignore a messenger among them when Gabriel was held in such high regard among the angels.
The realms grew closer together. Whenever a crisis occurred in Heaven the humans were given a new prophet and a summoning to duty by the Messenger; whenever a celebration rung out among the angels a human echo sang too. Gabriel was often surprised at how well informed the prophets were before he ever got to them, especially in the matters of devils, namely Lucifer. He learned much of what Lucifer was up to through the chosen ones, proving that prophecy is not a one way street. This is also how he found out about the treasonous acts of Iblis. Needless to say the angel was furious (you're welcome), immediately transforming into his celestial form at the news. After shaking the skies he returned to Heaven to have a word with the Father.
What he didn't expect to find was the Creator, Michael, and the rest of the archangels and sephirahs--even Keter! who was so high he nearly was God--seated around a table which sprung up new and timely messages in swirling fires hiding voices and video feeds from those for whom they were not intended.
"Father... What is--"
"Sit, my son, and you will see." And so did, pulling a chair from the clouds like a cheap illusionist act. The fact that there wasn't an open chair at the table, coupled with the chance way he found the cause of the clattering wings, didn't sit well with him, but he sat regardless. Some o f the whirling fires inquired about the shifting eyes of most of the angels present, to which the Creator replied that Gabriel h finally come. Then Gabriel was included, and he saw what they saw and knew what they knew.
"As you can see, we have some trouble," said Father.
"We have a war," insisted Keter, who cared deeply for the sanctity of Heaven, if only in an architectural sense.
"Call it what you will, there are three parties involved now." Taking a second look inside Antichthon Gabriel could see what Azazel meant. In one of the areas shown was a group of angels battling traitors in their troop, in another a commanding angel was blading an overzealous devil hunter, in another a slice of Hell was shown housing a deal between a group of old and surly-looking demons and an angel; Iblis' was had begun.
"What are your thoughts, Gabriel?" asked Michael who'd been silent up until now.
"The angel is Iblis," he began stating the obvious which, to be fair, wouldn't have been so obvious to the group if the omniscient Antichthon wasn't there. "The latest prophet has told me of his treasonous words in the beginning... Something I didn't know." A few angels shook their heads. "Why, father? Why didn't I know of this fool's treason earlier?"
"We could have taken care or it much sooner," said Uriel the blunt. "But we were too busy building the realm, one sword stroke at a time." By "we" he meant Gabriel. He would never admit to defiance before the Lord, but his zeal often dismissed the cautions of messages from his superiors; and after a while they saw that as long as Gabriel had license to fight his sword would find only the wicked. An ideal soldier, he embodied the message of might and glory in battle which, at the time, came straight from the lips of the Creator. As it was then it is now: Gabriel is Messenger. "You fought alongside Iblis, was here any indication of this?"
"That isn't the point! You all knew he was not with us from the beginning, but what id you do?"
"Traitors like him should be dealt with swiftly, but until they betray us we must put our faith in them." Said Azazel stopping Gabriel from making a fool of himself.
"Yes, I couldn't agree more," said God. "We must do something about this before they become too powerful to deal with. Iblis is already plotting with the old devils: Baal, Leviathan, Ammon, even Lucifer to stage an exterminating war on humans and angels who still have faith." There was a brief clamor.
"We put half of those devils in power with our campaign," said Keter. "And we kept the other half to form the Elohim class. The question now is whether or not our half will remain loyal to us when they have to face their brothers and sisters in battle."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
"Are you really so naive to think we can win against all of the Underworld without the Elohim?" Of the angels Keter was the only one who could speak to the Lord this way and not be punished.
"You would place such little faith in your brothers?"
"Yes. But you contradict yourself, father. Here we have the commanders of the Elohim class as well as the other class generals. You wouldn't call them in if you didn't need the Elohim's support."
"Always so clever, Keter, but I do wish you could have put that cleverness to use earlier."
"I have a feeling you have a plan. Besides, my intellect is no match for your will."
"The fact you still differentiate the two is why you are far from my equal." Of course it went both ways. For every outburst the Creator reminded Keter of his place.
"The fact I am humbled in this way allows me to be second best." And the wind chases the phantom. Somewhere a cough rang out.
"Ah, yes, sorry about that. Back to the matter at hand. I'm sending in a task force of Michael, Gabriel, Raziel, Samael, and Azazel to head straight for Lucifer and Iblis' camp in the center of Hell. The Elohim will be stationed outside Purgatory to stop the foot soldiers. The rest of you will be in charge of getting Michael's team to the center. I trust you will know how to command your troops to accomplish that."
Shortly thereafter the battle of the Gate, as it would later be called, would begin. Devils were crafty, and knowing their limitations increased their numbers substantially by recruiting humans. This saw the first time evil pieces were used to make devils out of humans. Many didn't survive, but those who did made an unpleasant surprise for the Elohim at the Gate.
Finally Michael and the others had reached the center, but they heard nothing from the Elohim who were too busy to respond. But that wasn't the only thing that went wrong.
"Iblis!" Shouted Michael flying down to his level. Baal and the others were there as well. "You are one of us; if you stand with us now I will not count you among the lost of this raid."
"Very kind of you, but I believe I'll stay right here."
"Then you are with them." He lifted his sword and pointed it at Iblis and Lucifer. It was still dripping with demon blood. "I must kill you now. I wish it didn't have to come to this... I'll make it quick." A grin melted across the faces of the angels and demons there.
"I'm sure you will." Said Iblis. Michael and the others drew their swords. His shined the brightest as he led the charge. Azazel followed nest on his right, and Samael on the left. Gabriel and Raziel flew behind. Before Michael could reach Iblis he heard shouting.
"Traitor! Why do you do this?" He held them off with his sword in one hand and a light spear in the other. Michael whipped around to see Samael and Azazel holding up Gabriel. Raziel was laughing with Iblis and the other before Michael swooped in with a light spear to peel Samael off his brother. Gabriel turned to stalemate Zazel. Raziel jumped in to help Samael, as has was no match for Michael on his own. The devils seized the opportunity and rushed the faithful ones. Michael and Gabriel couldn't possibly hold all of them off. Their demonic claws and blades diced their shoulders, Michael was ran through the side by Lucifer, Gabriel's arm was shattered by Leviathan's club. They were finished.
... Or they might have been if Azazel hadn't turned again. He, Samael, and Raziel caught the demons off guard and dealt heavy damage to Lucifer and his men. Michael, injured as he was, lifted his sword. Gabriel forbade him saying,
"Michael! Don't be a fool. We need this chance to escape. What if they come for us if we somehow manage to defeat them? Which in your condition doesn't seem likely." Reluctantly, Michael sheathed his sword.
"He's right," said Azazel. "We'd gladly kill you too if you'd just be patient."
"b*****d!" Said Baal.
"Why have you done this?" Demanded Michael.
"It's simple, really. I hate both of you: angels and devils. You both think you're right, that you have all the answers. You're wrong. The only logical thing to do is destroy both sides, all wrongs. Iblis had it right: the only thing we should worry about is wiping out humanity; or did you forget they ruined our second paradise?"
"One wasn't enough for you?"
"When I heard Iblis saying those things, it... Woke me up. This is what we were born to do. All we need is an enemy."
"I don't believe you."
"You can't afford not to." The surprise attack was turning into a brawl. The two were in no shape to stay. Michael sighed and took off after Gabriel.
"My brothers... I will get you back." On the way up a could of demons broke and fell as rain. Something was wrong at the Gate.
Meanwhile down below Azazel and his group retreated to a secluded area of Hell already established by Iblis as the Fallen stronghold.
"Yes! This is it! Soon mortal will be dying for our sakes. Can imagine, Azazel? We'll be the new gods in all three realms. Not even God can stop us!"
"But I can."
"...What?" Before Iblis could even become properly angry Kokabiel, who'd been waiting here for this purpose, had a sword pressed against Iblis' throat.
"What is this...!" He growled.
"I don't like your style-or lack there of-Iblis. We need a leader who can see five moves ahead, even put one over on the Old Man and Keter, and I'm sorry to say--Hell I'm not sorry, hahaha! ... Well, anyway, it isn't you."
"Ok, so you want to be the leader, fine. Why kill me?"
"See, this is part of the lacking: intellect." Azazel sighed. "The reason I'll kill you off is because you can't be trusted. You've made a career of double crossing your commanders, and we just can't have your type here." Iblis was shaking with fear, not anger, now.
"W-w-wait, Azazel! You said it yourself: if we combine our power we might be able to tip the scales in our favor."
"I did say that."
"... I don't like the way it sounds now for some reason."
"Kill him." Azazel turned around. Blood dripped from the neck of Iblis. Tic. Tic. Tic.
"Better do it quick, boss. I hear they're most powerful when they're fresh."
"Right..." Azazel absorbed Iblis' soul, fused it with his own. A giant light shot up, and all the Fallen knew Azazel had done it. He had ascended to Sephirah status.
Michael was growing weaker in the meantime. His previous wounds had turned batting away insignificant devils into a taxing task. Gabriel, who was stronger at the moment, helped him whenever he could. Eventually they saw the Gate. Elohim were battling newly dominic humans. Uriel managed to spot them coming out of Hell. From a telepathic message Gabriel knew how to get past the chaos. He hurled a light spear at the mouth of Purgatory, and at the same time Uriel shot a bolt of his own downward. The resulting collision cause an explosion which rocked the scrambling devils in all directions. The angels were less affected by the blast, as it was made of light energy.
"We've quite a story to tell Father..."
"Indeed, Michael, quite a story." Gabriel's smile was surprisingly genuine.

After that the lines had been drawn. From now on this would be a three-way war with each side having to fend off two armies. Suddenly delivering the good news didn't seem so bad. For his efforts and his reluctance to kill Iblis, Michael was named Grand Commander of Heaven's armies. Gabriel, when he wasn't visiting bead counters, was his chief advisor. Somewhere along the way the Fallen manage to break Antichthon, but the rest is history.
In the ten years since Issei's final bout Michael has earned, if nothing else, a rival's respect from Azazel. The jabs between the two are more of a verbal persuasion now. He and Keter are sill working on rebuilding Antichthon, but Azazel is being less than forthright with his information. Doing so would let Michael use his time to train and process more new recruits instead of going to progress meetings and listening to patrol reports. He is a warrior, after all, and sends Gabriel in whenever he can. But even so it is lucky to have him watching the realms so closely; he can deal with problems all the more swiftly.