Mark’s eyes wandered around the café as he sheathed his sword in its place in thin air. The white matter from the angel began to drip down his face, splashing down onto the ground.

“What the hell is going on in this town? What was that fucking thing? Who the fuck are you?” Voices demanded from the mass of students, leaving Mark in a slight state of panic.

“I…” Mark began, but was interrupted by that familiar smell.

“I’ll take it from here, Laurence.”

Mark’s head, along with the heads of everyone else in the room, snapped to the snack counter, which was set in the middle of the cafeteria right next to the cashier. A smile crossed over Mark’s lips, a smile of relief.

“What you all are looking at,” Lucifer paused, grabbing a chocolate chip cookie and moving himself in the direction of the crowd, “is that which will save humanity.”

“What is this crap?” David Denison stepped forward slightly, but still kept himself close to the group of students.

“Mark Laurence is… different than you all. He has abilities and strengths that none of you will ever possess.” Lucifer nodded in Mark’s direction and continued. “He is a part of a group of five hybrids; a mix of demonic and angelic blood runs through him.”

“Enough! They won’t comprehend it.” Mark snapped, watching an expression of disbelief grow on the faces of each person in the room. “The only way to make them understand… is to show them.”

Mark turned to Lucifer, who in turn nodded and closed his eyes tight. Lucifer tilted his head backwards, his arms stretched out on either side of him. An aura grew upon him, starting off dull but then growing brighter and brighter each second. In a minutes pass, the entire room was willed with the holy aura.

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The aura died down quickly, leaving Mark, Lucifer, Jon, Andria, and David standing in the middle of a city. The atmosphere was much like that of New York’s, but the look of it was completely different. Buildings were burning; street pavement was cracked and split in hundreds of places, and the biggest change of all was the inhabitants.

Winged, sword wielding beasts stalked the streets of what used to be New York City. Running around frantically, as if in a constant chase, were hellhounds. The hell dog’s mouths were covered in blood, constantly the red liquid dripping to the ground. Hisses and snarls replaced the normal horns and commotion that the city once housed.

The concrete roads would rise up briefly, only to fall back into place and rise up again in an area only a few feet away. The road cracked in places, but for the most part survived through the constant moving of the land.

“What is this?” Jon whispered softly, standing completely still amongst the hell surrounding him.

“This is your future,” Lucifer began, and then turned his attention to the west, “if we fail.”

Mark followed Lucifer’s eyes, and took notice to the horizon. Buildings were aflame and winged demons took to the air; in what seemed to be the middle of all the turmoil was a tall slab of rock, carved and shaped into a throne.

“Is it him?” Mark questioned.

“No. He stays below.” Lucifer paused and closed his eyes.

The area where the wondering group was standing changes quickly when Lucifer’s eyes open. No longer are they standing in some side street, but instead in the center of what used to be Central Park. Constructed as one of the Seven Wonders of the World would be, the large slab of rock towered over them. A long set of stairs lead straight up to the heavens, where at the top sat somebody (or something) no larger than an average sized man.

Everybody’s eyes followed up the stairs, but only Lucifer and Mark could see who was sitting atop the hellish throne.

“Is that…” Mark’s voice trailed off, searching for the name.

“Denis Rochesberg.” Lucifer took his eyes off of the throne and brought them down to gaze at Mark.

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“Why do I know his face?”

“He’s one of whom you are looking for. He… is your next endeavor.”

With those words, the image broke and the cafeteria reinstated itself where it should be. Jon, Andria, and David spun around frantically, looking around themselves. With the sudden change of scenery, they began to wonder if it were all true, if it weren’t just a dream.

Mark’s head dropped until his eyes were level again with everyone else. His head turned once, swiftly, to where Lucifer had been standing right next to him. His eyes widened as he came to realize why the picture had changed so sudden. With a clench fist, Mark swung his arm behind his back.

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Lucifer’s blood spilt to the ground when the blade struck him hind side. Without so much as a grunt, the demon fell to the ground, grasping where the pain rose from. Losing concentration quickly, Lucifer could no longer hold onto the future, and soon enough he and the others slipped back into the past.

From the ground he looked up, his eyes scanning over the now empty cafeteria. A groan escaped his lips as he realized the mistake he made. The angel’s hadn’t of left; they were waiting for a diversion.

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Mark pulled the forming sword from his back and swung it around in front of him. Slowly he approached the fallen human look-alike. His eyes took notice to the puddle of blood that began to form around his back and pooled up quickly, as if to swallow Lucifer’s body whole.

A splatter of blood showered Mark as the head of the demon became detached from its body. The sound of metal on tile followed the painful slice of Lucifer’s neck. The head rolled down to Mark slowly, knocking against his shoe gently. The dead eyes were calm; no sign of panic or pain was present in them.

A snarl escaped Mark as his eyes squinted slightly and his nose crinkled. Nothing came to his senses; nothing except for the missing crowd of students and teachers. His head lifted to briefly examine the area that was once populated with people, but nothing else out of the ordinary struck him. His mind flashed, a bright light replacing his thoughts.

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The blade came down on Mark quick, but not too fast for him to not respond; his own silver sword catching the attacking weapon. Mark’s eyes looked directly in front of him. The form of an angel began to appear quickly, causing the teen to growl. When the angel was fully visible to the human eye, Mark’s mind caught site of a second rushing up behind him.

With as much force as he could give, his arms pushed upward, knocking the first angel back, giving him enough room to spin without getting the sword’s edge lodged into its flesh. Mark’s sword came around before he could, knocking the pursuing angel’s blade away from him.

The teen stood poised, his vision switching from one angel to the other. When the two attackers finally regained their balance after the powerful strikes, Mark’s mind flashed a third time. There was a third angel.

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Before he could react, the warm feel of steel piercing his flesh coursed through Mark. He could feel his back being intruded and filled with the holy metallic blade. With his eyes wide, the sword dropped from his hands and he fell to his knees. Mark’s hands pressed against his stomach, and to his final disgust he could feel the tip of the sword just touch the inside of his flesh. Without another sound, the angel-demon collapsed to the ground, a pool of blood forming around him.

In a state of shock, the watchers of the battle began to move towards the stairwell slowly. Jon and David had to grab Andria and muffle her loud crying. The angel’s took no notice to them, but instead simply stood proudly over their kill.

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Come the top of the stairs, the three fleeing teens made a mad dash towards the side entrance. Jon shouldered the door causing it to fling open and make a cracking sound at the top hinge.

David collapsed onto the grass to his knees. His hands covered his face as he did his best to make sense of everything. Andria slowly fell to the concrete sidewalk, tears pouring down her cheeks and sobs being the only sound she could make. Jon knelt down beside her, placing his arm over her as he too cried.

“If… what we saw was the future…” David paused, shaking his head gently, “Than aren’t we fucked now without them?”

Jon’s head snapped up, and through tears he spoke. “No. Denis Rochesberg… they said his name, maybe he knows…”

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The three angel warriors stood over the two bodies triumphantly. To them, they had just ensured that there would be no human interference; the death of Lucifer was the first key to their success, the death of the teenager was simply an added bonus.

The third angel lifted his sword from the teen’s dead body bringing the blade up to his mouth and licking the blood off slowly. A brief smile crossed over his lips.

“He was a hybrid.” The third angel spoke, his voice carrying a soft echo behind it.

“He will be pleased to hear.” The first angel nodded up towards the sky slightly.

The third angel brought his blade over the neck of the teen, positioning it. When the blade was where he wanted it to be, he brought the sword level to his head and smiled as he swung down.

The blade stopped, ricocheting off of the air above the teen.

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Mark’s eyes opened quickly, a bright red flame glowing in the left, a shining orb glowing in the right. His hands twitched and his body ached as he slowly lifted himself off of the ground in a magician-like manner. Facing the three angels, he snapped his neck, holding his arms out, making a “T” with his body. Arching his back, he groaned painfully as his back began to split and blood splattered to the ground. Through this painful act came two wings, each unfolding as they exited his body. The one on his left was torn, blood red in color, much like the wing of a demon. A whitish, more beautiful feathered wing sprouted from the right side of his body. Both wings distinguished his two forms; the angel and the devil.

“You should have sliced my head off quicker.” Mark smirked, lifting his left hand up in front of him.

The three angels backed away quickly, panic forming over their pale faces.

“The prophecies are true…” The first angel shook as he retreated.

“There is an ultimate being…” The voice of the second angel was lower, more frightened.

“There’s more than just one.” Mark’s left eye winked as his hand became engrossed in flames.