Michael thrust a fist to the ground, his knees following the movement, while his right wing whipped around.
I thought for cover.
I thought for protection.
But instead, his glorious wing sliced clean through the Spartan’s body from shoulder to hip. Blood arced through the sky, glistening in the moonlight as it fell near my feet.
Time slammed into me and I was suddenly there. I took a step forward, but the slow clap of hands stopped me. Akaros emerged from the shadows.
“Well done, Michael. Well done.” He’d returned to his glory, his figure barely visible, so black was he. Even Michael’s light couldn’t illuminate him. One figure, golden and glittering, the other like an oil slick in the darkness. “I see you’ve learned a few tricks since last we met.”
Michael pulled his Halo into himself until he stood as a boy before a god. Akaros never deigned to reduce himself to human form unless he absolutely had to.