THE ACTING FORCES

In the celestial realms, amidst the ethereal clouds and sanctified walls, angels stand as embodiments of divine order. Clad in garments woven from the threads of blind righteousness, they wield celestial authority with unwavering determination. These celestial beings are not mere messengers; they are formidable enforcers.

Amidst the shimmering radiance of their abodes, angels covet the precious allure of gold and treasures, symbols of the divine favor bestowed upon them. Their wings, adorned with resplendent feathers, flutter in synchronized elegance, reflecting the ordered grace of their celestial realm. Bound by an unbreakable allegiance to the heavenly hierarchy, angels are steadfast in their commitment to upholding the sanctity of divine law, even if it requires them to be ruthless killers of both humanity and demon alike.

In the canvas of creation, demons emerge as progeny of the untamed realms of nature. They flourish in the midst of nature's chaotic dance, where disorder reigns and unpredictability thrives. Abhorring the shackles of order and the mundane, they revel in the primal symphony of the wild.

Manifesting their hedonistic essence, demons whisper their dark mysteries into the shadows, constructing temples from the flesh and bones of angels and mortals alike. Their sanctuaries rise where chaos holds sway, testaments to the defiance of the structured and the predictable.

To demons, humans and celestial beings are but vexing nuisances, obstacles to be vanquished to expand their influence and bask in the tranquility of their dark dominion.

In the realm of Earth, there dwell individuals endowed with superhuman abilities, their extraordinary powers bestowed upon them as a consequence of either virtuous deeds or unspeakable atrocities. Some among them are the descendants of women who endured the sinister unions with monsters, angels, and demons.

Among these gifted beings are scientists, prophets, warlords, and time-travelers, each marked by a unique prowess that sets them apart from the sheep. Their origins, diverse and enigmatic, trace back to the interplay between the divine and the profane.

These champions, neutral mercenaries, align themselves with realms that promise advantageous alliances for they are the enigmatic stewards of a power that transcends the boundaries of mortal understanding.

In the realm of those who ardently embrace order, there exists a devout adherence to the belief in angels. Fanatically tethered to celestial hierarchies, they shun innovation with unwavering zeal. Their fanaticism for establishing order reaches such heights that it propels them into the depths of madness, causing them to forsake their own well-being and lives.

To be engulfed by a voraciously consuming angel is the epitome of majesty in their fervent imaginations. This sacrificial consummation, a sublime act of submission to the celestial order, becomes the zenith of their aspirations. In their zealous pursuit, they willingly surrender themselves to the ravenous embrace of an angelic force, viewing such a fate as the pinnacle of divine fulfillment.

Within the realm of those who yield to the allure of chaos, individuals are propelled by unyielding curiosity, physical desires, and an incessant pursuit of harmony with nature. In order to achieve this end, they explore every tome, regardless of its explicit nature, experiment with various substances, and even open themselves to the intrusion of demons.

For these seekers, the pinnacle of existence lies not in restraint and order but in the relentless quest for novel experiences.

In this unrestrained pursuit, the zenith of their existence lies in the continual exploration of new and often perilous encounters, whether immersed in the throes of visceral desire or confronting the harrowing embrace of death on the battlefield.

Oh, you godless ones, unfamiliar with faith's embrace. Without the chains of belief, you are ensnared by extremists who profess to possess the absolute truth. Whether you choose to believe or not, you remain pawns in the hands of those who do.

Flee, flee when you hear whispers of the Savior.

Flee when murmurs of the sanctity of nature reach your ears.

For the Savior shall corrupt you just as the chaos of nature, whose tendrils weave through your flesh, brings forth decay.

Souls are proclaimed to be free, or so we are often told. Yet, souls are but reflections of ourselves, burdened by our guilt and shrouded in original sin.

The soul, in truth, belongs to the realm it was pledged to in the course of its earthly existence. Thus, the soul is catapulted into the realm of monsters.

A soul becomes a mere facet in a crown, a whetstone for a sword, a shield against an attack from a hostile creature.

A soul is not inherently sacred, and yet, for a monster, there exists nothing more precious than a soul. It becomes a coveted treasure in the eyes of the monstrous, a coveted path stone on the road to Armageddon.