Forge •••

It was another obscure dark night at the town of Angel Pine and the thunderstorm did not let up the ground. Magnus was sitting in front of the ledge of the window, staring into the horizon with an agonized look on his face. Sore and pained he was after another difficult day in the forge, the cellphone kept ringing and the SMS's came one after another, each one with another order from the local citizens, making his phone spin restlessly on the table. His will to aid humanity and provide them with his tools burnt him out, they were many and he was no longer capable of evoking most of his powers from the past, leaving him with no option but to craft each one of his creations manually. Trapped in a confined mortal shell with broken dreams and tormenting memories, Magnus clenched his fist on the armrest of the chair and at once pushed himself up as the chair violently swung backward. No more powers were left to his mortal shell as he got back to his bed and deliberately began digging into the memories of the war. He knew that they might bring pain and misery along, but great things never come at ease. He took multiple deep breaths and actively tried to recall the times when he could shape even the most compressed diamond as it was butter with nothing more but his mere whim. It was not long until his body lost its last power, making him fall into a deep sleep from the physical pain, yet Even found himself in a completely different place, not only awake but in the middle of a furious battle. His sword clung against the claws of an angel of the Flesh as the two were mercilessly fighting above the skies of the Valley of Tears. Alone they were not as many others joined the fight yet the majority were still preparing for the battle. The forces of heaven came at their greatest bastion, striking once again, doing the best of their abilities to reach into the heart of the Black Cathedral. The bastards knew that they were weak at the time, and they used it to their advantage. The Civilization of Ashes recently turned its back on the legions after witnessing the truth of Creation, no one truly knows what made them leave, yet that was something Even never forgave them for. Weak and exhausted he was due to the loss of many of his followers yet that did not fail him in the fight..- not yet at least. Long hours took the battle and the two kept viciously striking one another. At a certain point Even just realized that his opponent's armor is tougher than it looks and renders most of his attacks useless, perhaps he might want to focus on getting that off the way first. It was not long until Chazaqiel had defeated one of the Hosts and came at Even's help. He surprised the Rabisu from behind by unleashing the rage of his flames against his back, buying Even some leeway that allowed him to impose his will and reshape the armor as he pleased, turning it into a pearl as it was soft clay. With that, the Syir pearl fell from the ever-shifting flesh figure like a droplet of the rain, leaving him in a very vulnerable position which Even abused by swinging his sword against the raw flesh, ending up splitting the angel in two.

Suddenly everything went dark, it felt like Even's world was closing on him as Magnus began opening his eyes faintly. The feeling was akin to co-existence between the worlds - almost as they merging, resulting in a partial consciousness regain which reminded him of the truly bitter end of that final fight, scarring his memories with images of the chains of fire once again. Everything returned back to normal as Magnus woke up to his own screams, covered in sweat yet with a glimmer of arcane memory.

Unfortunately, that was not enough for Even. The memories of the past did get back to him yet he didn't get to grasp all of the aspects of creation as he was too busy winning the battle. He knew that getting back into such depths of the war is not coming at ease, and perhaps he better let his mind cool off for a while before trying again. Instead, he had decided to dial an old friend from the third house that he met back in San Fierro, and tried to set up a meeting. Jakob, also known as Melachael, sounded quite busy on the phone as the smites of the hammer echoed in the background as the two talked. Magnus tried to arrange a meeting at Jakob's place yet it was clear that Jakob didn't have time but accepted anyway out of politeness. Upon Magnus' arrival, he had turned his gaze around the forge and had certainly noticed that the place is seemingly running empty. "What's up with your forge?" Magnus asked, Jakob frowned and replied that he was too busy to leave the forge lately and restock as he got into serious debts. Magnus scratched his chin and saw the situation to be an opportunity to aid an old friend in exchange for a favor, placing them in a win-win situation. "I'll tell you what," Magnus said, "What if I offered you my help, perhaps by restocking your forge?". "Now it's all nice and sweet, but let's take the act off. What do you require in return?" Jakob replied. "Witnessing your work will do more than enough" Magnus said and extended his hand at Melachael and the two shook hands.