CHAPTER 87: [87]:BLASPHEMERS

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They knelt. Just like they had in the first antechamber. Bending knee, one by one, their weapons forgotten on the floor beside them.

Uriel smiled. A perfect, faultless smile.

"Kneeling is good. Kneeling means that you know of your sins," the Archangel tilted his head to one side, "But since when has kneeling ever absolved you of them?"

They tensed in their armor, but it was a futile motion. Uriel gestured, a casual flick of his hand, and the wards and seals that had proved so effective against Belial’s fire flared red hot before simultaneously winking out.

Plated forms fell like hewn logs. Toppled like tipped statues. The sound of steel faceplates denting the floor echoed eerily throughout the chamber. Valper stared at the heaps of unmoving armor around him and whimpered. The former priest’s fear was shared by those below. The devils scattered. The humans knelt. He frowned and glanced bemusedly in both their directions.

"Zealots," Uriel’s gaze remained on the balcony. His tone had turned distasteful, "of all the sinners I have had to deal with, they are the worst of the bunch. Heretics, I can stand. Blasphemers a bit less. But zealots, they are the worst of the worst. They choose which tenets they will follow and ignore the rest, and should you argue against them they will not be above using force against you," the Archangel turned to regard them, a thin smile playing on his lips, "It was how the Crusades were started. Thousands and thousands of dead. Cities sacked and ruined. Civilizations brought to the brink of collapse. And if that was not enough, they had to have eight in a row! Eight Crusades, and it was left to us angels to pick up the pieces when they were done! Think of all the paperwork!"

They blinked. He sighed. Uriel chuckled. The seraph descended to land in the middle of them, blood red plate clinking harmoniously as they touched the ground. Bright, luminescent wings folded behind the armored back, and the light that had cast itself upon them all steadily faded until it was no more than an ebbing glow.

"The stubbornness of humans. More often than not it becomes willful ignorance," the seraph jutted his chin towards one of them, "Tell me, would you eat something that a great, celestial being strictly forbade you to?"

Asia looked up, her eyes wide, then shook her head.

"Ah, that makes you wiser than Adam and Eve then," Uriel said with a sage nod, "There are times I wonder if God cast humanity out of Eden for heeding the Serpent’s lies or because He was too ashamed of the stupidity of His own creations."

Xenovia and Irina made faint choking sounds from where they knelt. The others wavered, still unsure. The Archangel noticed and grinned mischievously.

"Worry not, devils. You are not stupid, merely blasphemous. And I would prefer blasphemy over stupidity any day. Besides, if there was no blasphemy in this world, we angels would have very little to do and many of us would be out of a job. Can you imagine? I, the great Uriel, Archangel of Retribution, forced into the ignominy of unemployment?"

"Retribution..." Kiba repeated faintly. The boy’s eyes refused to leave the seraph’s plated form, as though worried that a moment of stray thought would invite the thrust of a blade.

"Why, yes," the handsome head nodded in response," All angels are given a task when they are created. It is a task that they seek to complete no matter the cost. A purpose of existence, if you will, and it can range from something trivial to something very serious. My purpose is retribution, and as you can imagine, it is very serious."

"You don’t sound like someone who is serious," muttered Issei. The devil winced when the seraph’s gaze switched to him.

"Ah, but there is a reason for that," Uriel smiled, "I too once took my purpose very gravelly like the rest of my brethren. But unlike their tasks, mine is truly endless. There is no end to the amount of sinners that needs to be burned. For every one you slay, three more pop up, their deeds just as heinous as the last. It does not help that mankind’s population has grown exponentially since I first accepted the task all those millennia ago."

The Archangel gestured to the limp bodies lying where they fell on the balcony.

"After you incinerate your ten thousandth man, you begin to understand just how tedious it is. Sure they scream and flail as they burn, but beyond that, everything else is the same. So to lessen my boredom, I started listening to the way each of them would beg before I killed them," they began to notice what he had known long beforehand. The merciless steel that lay veiled behind the charming smiles, "Blasphemers recant the words they have built their lives around. Heretics begin praying to a god they have never believed in. Murderers beg their victims for mercy," the seraph chuckled, "It is fascinating to see just how far the human mind will break when so close to death. Why, I have had women offer me their bodies to try and escape the retribution that was ordained for them. I did not accept, of course. I do not wish to join the ranks of the Fallen anytime soon," dark humor glowed in his eyes, "I have had men try the same. I believe the human expression is ’I do not roll that way’."

He could see that they were conflicted. Conflicted between being amused and being horrified. He could well understand. When he first called for this one in the Velvet Room he too had been bemused by its behavior. And while he had eventually grown used to the Persona’s eccentricities over time, they had not.

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