• Date joined:2010-11-30
  • City:Washington DC
  • Gender:Male
  • Alignment:Neutral
  • Points:0 Points
  • Ranked:Currently Disabled

Name: Pre-fall, he went by the name Khesseth, but most in Heaven or Hell now know him as Netzach. Usually only Gabriel refers to him as the former anymore.

Aliases: One-Winged Angel, Nameless Angel, Broken Seraph, Cruel Angel, Clip-Winged Angel, Heartless Angel, The Curbside Prophet, The Man with the Black Wing, Crippled Angel. Faithless Angel

Gender: Male

Height: 6'7*

Weight: 193 lbs

Hair: Silver*

Eyes: Green*

Origin: Angel(Fallen)

Distinguishing Features: Though he is a Seraph and originally had six wings, Michael the Archangel seared off five of them, and the remaining wing has been charred black, tainted, a show to all in Heaven or Hell who lay eyes upon him know of his fall from grace. His pupils, they are like a cat's.

The Cruel Angel's thesis bleeds through a portal like your pulsing blood. If you should betray the chapel of your memories, he will enter the window of your soul.

Background

To be Given Form

It was a seraph. However, instead of chanting all day, he was of action. He helped manage the balance between Heaven’s forces and Hell’s angels. He had always felt unique, and served his creator dutifully. The fall was not entirely his fault. It was mostly the result of Lucifer’s meddling and trickery.

One day, Lucifer approached him and, looking as sincerely as possible, he said “I seem to have lost some of my angels; Five, to be exact. Would you mind helping me recover them?”

Confused, suspicious but not completely malevolent toward him, the seraph questioned “What? I've got no time for this, I've work to do.”

Foreseeing this response, Lucifer said in a sly, knowing voice, “If allowed to roam free for too long, they might cause untold destruction. Do you really want that? And think about it. If you help with their retrieval, you could be saving countless lives, God would be pleased with you, and the big guy wouldn't be on my ass about it. Everybody wins.”

Seeing his point, the seraph agreed, but remained wary.

“You’ll probably have to fight them,” Lucifer told him. Then, handing him five strange collars, he said “Cut their wings off and put one of these around their necks. They’ll nullify their powers and abilities until I can get them all back to my domain.”

The seraph had little trouble rounding up the five, but then Michael showed up, clearly enraged. Along with him came Gabriel. “Have you gone Mad!? What is wrong with you!?”

He was in a panic, having upset the most powerful of all the Angels, he who was said to lead the strike on Satan's forces during the end of days. “I was helping Lucifer catch so—“

“You attack your own brethren? And to aid him?”

Confused and almost speechless, the startled angel only replied “What? My own?—!”

He could not finish. What he saw left him completely speechless. He saw not Hell’s dark angels, but five of Heaven’s own warriors. It had all been an illusion, which he was made to perceive by Satan, who had disappeared. He also noticed that there was something wrong with the angels. It was as if the collars were killing them, then corrupting them, turning them into Satan’s own dark angels.

Angels in Pain

“You will both be punished,” Michael said. “I will send Gabriel to find Lucifer. We will deal with him later.”

Fearful, the angel asked “Is there no way for me to receive redemption?”

Shaking his head, Gabriel said “That path is not open to the angels.”

Almost panicking and with a hint of rage, the seraph replied, “So be it.” and called to him his flame and energy swords. Likewise, Michael did the same.

Fighting with Michael

The battle seemed to be in favor of the seraph, and he even managed to plant Michael on his back. But then, as he thought he was about to end it, Gabriel interfered from behind, striking him through the back with a series of holy arrows. After that, it was a mostly one-sided affair. Michael claimed his firesword and burned of five of his wings, one for each lost angel, and the remaining one had been tainted black as a marker, saying “All who see will know of your abominable deed, and it will serve as a reminder to yourself of how you have fallen. I hereby strip you of your power and cast you into Hell. Begone.”

And as the last word was spoken, The Broken Seraph felt a sensation, like he was burning. He was rocketed from the heavens, spiraling down from Heaven in a blaze of fire.

From there, the Fallen Angel spent a lengthy amount of time in Hell, where he endured various kinds of torture over many countless years. He was bound in chains, said to be unbreakable, and his flesh was burned off repeatedly his eyes plucked out, being torn limb from limb time and time again, with nary a respite. Each day, a demon servant girl would come and heal him just enough so he could endure again the next day. She was petite and young, but had a vivacity unnatural to a Demon in Hell. Over time, his hatred grew. Hatred of Lucifer, of Gabriel, of God, and eventually, he hated himself for even falling for such a ploy. What a fool. Little did he know, liberation would come in the form of the servant girl in Hell. Each day, while repairing his body, the girl would listen to the story of the Broken Seraph. Knowing how far he'd fallen, and seeing how weak he was, she took pity on him. He didn't belong there. And so one day, she sought to set the Angel free. Though the chains that bound him were said to be unbreakable, she pulled and shattered them with little effort. When asked how it was possible, she replied that the chains weren't entirely unbreakable. They were specially attuned to the one bound, and only another with strong faith could break them. Faith, not very common in Hell. She had faith, whereas his faith had been broken long ago. A demon with faith. What a sight. In return, she begged that he take her with him when he tried to escape; she knew he would. It was a deal.

With little time, the two journeyed towards the gates of Hell. The timing had to be perfect, for the gates would close at the end of each day, or if there were any signs of plans such as theirs. After a long but unknown period of time, they were within sight of the gate. Of course, anyone seen on the way out would be suspected, so they stopped so the girl could finish coming up with a plan. Slightly mad from the torture, and even more so by the thought of freedom, the Seraph made a dash for the gate. His strength had diminished, however, from the years of torture, and his legs gave out from under him, leaving him at the mercy of the guarding demons who had gathered around him. It seemed all of his hope would be for naught, when the girl stepped out and, with mere words, no doubt some sort of incantation, conjured up a storm to temporarily disconcert them. With a few more words, she bound them with a special seal, holding them in place. She held up the Angel as best she could, and she started to carry him toward freedom. However, the gates had begun to close and it wasn't long before more demons showed up to stop them, and, using a chain, one of them managed to grab hold of the girl's leg. Realizing they would both be captured, and the Angel couldn't break the chain, she pushed him forward through the closing gates with all of her strength, sending him through a portal to the realm Earth.

The Angel arrived in a small town in Mississippi, where he used a little trickery to be nursed back to health by an elderly woman, before moving on, not minding where he was going. Since then, he lived a mostly transient, uneventful lifestyle, staying briefly in one place, getting by, then moving on.

Return to Hell - In mari inanitatis

In mari inanitatis: Proelium aeternum

Slowly, very slowly, the broken Seraph sunk into the depths of the sea of blood; the same sea of blood which they'd used his own blood to create and fill for thousands of years, until only a few short months ago when he escaped. Lying stretched out, eyes closed with an expression of anguish, he quietly sank into the warm and tranquil ocean. How? How did I end up like this again so soon? How was I broken? Suddenly, his hand opened up and blindly reached around, violently, searching for time, but found nothing and again came to rest once more. That's right. I lost it. The Chaos Magicite.

He recalled the events of his short-lived rebirth as rough, unseen hands pulled him back to the top before binding him once more on the rock where he once withstood torment.

Hours ago, he'd began a journey into Hell with a small group. Moments ago, he'd tasted his lost power momentarily being restored. A number of scientists had agreed to come and needed protection. A few agents of various world governments came along. For extra security, there was also Sharyn, a brash mercenary, armed to the teeth, Freddie, a man specializing in sonic technology, and Ison, another fallen angel like himself, but who'd been lost earlier during the journey. This was the group he'd chosen to go to Hell with. Hmph. Never thought I'd be back here. Not willingly. Maybe I shouldn't have after all. Strange occurrence that anyone would go to Hell of their own volition, especially a Fallen Angel who had spent an agonizing time there before. Yet here he was, drowning in a lake of his own crimson blood. Having followed a simple rumor overheard of a group of students who'd found "some strange symbols" in the Catacombs of Paris and somehow linked it to Rodin's sculpture, The Gates of Hell, he joined eagerly. The symbols told of an actual gate to Hell, where a potentially destructive artifact was hidden away. An artifact which, if used properly, could bestow great power upon he who possessed it. Or power to destroy all of existence with a simple mistake. It sounded simple, a bit farfetched by normal standards, but he'd heard of the magicite since before his fall. It was supposedly locked inside a puzzlebox nigh impossible to unlock. Since the fall, and even his initial escape from Hell, he'd been left powerless, and this. . .key, was the means by which he'd regain his lost power.

All along, he'd planned to hang back, to follow along with this group, possibly just as foolish as he, or even more. He would watch them carefully, mostly hanging back and letting them do the work, though aiding their success by any means he could in the case of an emergency, watching over time the conflicting desires in each of their hearts with regards to what to do with the artifact once they found it. Some came to believe in using it, some for studying it, others just to destroy. He himself remained inconspicuous, not standing out amongst the group. Until then.

They'd finally reached their destination after fighting through literal Hell. A mostly empty room, save for a floating cryptic cube in the center. The walls were decorated with what appeared to be bodies, human, demon, and various other creatures half-showing, their faces either contorted in agony or a sinister grin. and now a verbal conflict ensued between the mercenary and the scientists over the box. She'd wanted to destroy it, and they wanted to study it.

"There it is, the key to whatever it was the glyphs described. The key to untold power. Power enough to destroy the world." One of the archaeologists took a single step forward, her mouth gaped in awe.

"Alright. Smash time." The mercenary stepped up, sword in tow, ready to do the deed without question. To her credit, that was what the job description originally stated, but the scientists weren't having it. "Hold on there," one shouted, stepping in front of her. "Aren't you the least bit curious as to what this thing is? What it means? The applications of such a thing?" For a moment, she seemed to consider it, then,"Nope. I'm getting paid to destroy this thing so nobody can use it to destroy everything." She callously shoved the woman out of the way, but the others had moved in to take her place in front of the woman. Not long, and they seemed to be at each others throats, arguing and shouting back and forth between them.

"Hey, cool it, people." Freddie stepped in, trying to play peacemaker. "We're all comrades here. No need to fight each other over this. I can see where you guys are coming from, but we are getting paid to do a certain job, to destroy it. Besides, don't you remember what they said when we started? Betray their trust in any way, they'll hunt you down, and there is not a government or institution on the planet that will give you safe harbor." The agents were starting to get aggressive now, training their weapons on the group and the box.

This could not be allowed. It was then that the fallen Angel showed his true motives. While they were arguing, he silently made his way toward the box, which held that which would restore his power. Out of his back shot a single beating black wing. Twisting the dials as if a combination lock or some sort of puzzle, he'd expertly unlocked the box, revealing the Chaos Magicite. Little by little, he felt his power returning. The agonizing wait had been worth it. Time to test.

Magicite in his possession, Angel turned his attention on those trying to destroy it, taking up a fighting stance. It seemed to take them a moment, but they'd finally gotten the jist of things. And when he was assured they understood the whole situation, he went on the offensive. A single deft strike with his fist sent a scientist crashing to the ground The mercenary just managed to duck, saving his life, then Freddie made a feeble attempt at an offense with a kick. The Angel quickly recovered and sent a palm strike at his chest, sending him back a few feet. Next Sharyn was up. Wielding a medium-sized blade, she went straight for the throat, but the Angel ducked backwards to avoid it and sent her away the same as Freddie. Almost immediately after, the agents opened fire, but with the power returned by the magicite he projected a shield to hold the hail at bay. A single bullet pierced his shoulder and in anger, he unleashed an electrical storm upon the men, disabling them, continuing until their bodies began to smoke. In his distraction, Freddie managed to sneak around and let out a sonic blast, overloading his senses and sending him staggering off balance. He strained his eyes and straightened his vision just in time for Sharyn to pierce his stomach with her blade. He let a furious fist fly at her rib cage, likely shattering one, then thrust her into Fred. With a grimace, he removed the blade from his stomach and tossed it aside. Then he proceeded to unleash a lightning fury on both of them, now actively drawing on the power of the magicite, hovering above his head.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his back, an arrow protruded through his chest. He turned around to see, "Ison? I thought you were. . ."

Ison was clearly wounded, but not dead. He held an enchanted bow and arrows, aiming and firing another shot. The nameless Angel made to defend himself, but the second arrow was intended for the Chaos Magicite. Through the connection now established, he too felt the pain again in his chest.

As he spoke, Ison began to change form. He revealed himself to be Michael, the Archangel in disguise the whole time. All visible wounds on his body were suddenly gone, and he shone with a light bright enough to illuminate the entire realm, that all others present had to shield their eyes for fear of going blind. " Recéde , malignitas . Vi pater filium et spiritum sanctum tuum tenebrosum et levare te potentia." Wit his words the power began to drain from the Chaos Magicite. In a single second, it was all gone.

In a blind fury, the Clip-winged Angel charged Michael, but was halted by another holy arrow piercing his chest, followed by another, and another, and successively more until he was felled, collapsed on the ground.

For an unbearable amount of time, the broken Seraph was locked in his punishment, with nary a respite, passing out and waking to the same. For months, he cried out in anguish, but his afflicted cries were the only answer. Until one day, it finally stopped. Silence filled the area, then, a blinding light accompanied by a familiar voice.

"Greetings, Netzach. We need to talk.

Having once again been provided with a way out, this time by Gabriel, he once again walks the earth. An agreement was struck, and he has since joined up with the "Redeemers" squad of the Champions of Peace. Upon being cast out from Heaven, his abilities were lost to him, even when he escaped from Hell. By coming into contact with the chaos Magicite, even for a short period, he has regained some of his former power.

Abilities

§ Flight - He can fly.

§ Divinity

Enhanced strength, speed, reflexes*

Enhanced sensory function

§ Shape-shifter - He can change his appearance and voice at will.

§ Eternal youth - Eternal youth

§ Psionic ability

§ Energy Projection/Manipulation - He can emit and control various energy types from his body, such as light or dark or electrical.

Like most all other beings of his nature, he practices divine arts and the arcane. Unlike most others, he possesses a unique art known as Gradation Air.

§ Gradation Air - Also called projection. Magecraft that specializes in small scale reality manipulation to materialize objects, in accordance to his imagination or memory, through the use of prana. Strength of the projection varies with specifics of the weapon he is trying to project, only further boosted by the picture of it in the creator's mind, and the strength of will of the creator. Seems to work better when fighting for a strong purpose or belief. He seems to have maintained an intuitive understanding of structural systems immediately upon viewing, to better understand the necessities in creating them,

§ Reality Marble - Related to projection; the Innate Bounded Field is a topographic type magic that allows Netzach to have his inner world materialized and projected into reality. This projected world is completely cut off from the normal reality and can be manipulated at his will. Anyone caught within range disappears from view, though other magi could feel the presence in the location where the field was erected, but it can not be directly affected from the outside. Being the world of his own, his own general abilities and the strength of projections are enhanced to unimaginable levels, the world itself opening his potential for literally limitless possibilities. While powerful, an incantation is required to erect it, and a great deal of magical energy is required to keep it stabilized.

*His strength, speed, as with all of his powers, rises or falls in accordance with will or faith, in himself, a cause, or his faith in others sharing a common cause, limited only by his own mindset or what he believes can be done.

Equipment

§ Armor - Divine armor that can be summoned at any moment. Provides strong physical protection as well as resistance in other areas, such as protection against magic and manipulation, when he wears it, though he doesn't use it often.

§ Flame sword - A mystical sword with a blade engulfed in flames. The source of the flame is unclear, though it is clear that it is neither an Earthly flame, nor Hellfire. It once fell into a mountain. The Roman cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum were consequently destroyed.

§ Energy Sword - A sword made of pure energy. He can channel his own electrical attacks through this to amplify their power.