Haneul gently fingers through Baro's sweat-soaked black hair as he slept. He was breathing easily, and his expression was relaxed; one could almost mistake it for a peaceful, normal sleep. However, the gash along his side still leaking bright red blood and the shimmer of perspiration across his skin betrayed that, revealing the obvious fact that he had fallen unconscious after his bitter fight with Dong-woo. Haneul used her other hand to gently pull the drenched fabric away from the deep wound, finding with satisfaction that his demon's magic was already stitching itself together. At the very least, he is out of danger for now. She glanced up to stare across the uneven, rocky surface of the clifftop, where Jinyoung and Gongchan were facing off against the heavily wounded Dong-woo.

The angel was panting heavily, hunched over as he held a hand to the bony frame of his maimed wing. Thick, hot blood oozed through his fingers, evidence that Haneul had gravely hurt him. The silvery feather structure was limp, the soft feathers scraping across the tough stone as the angel uneasily shifted backwards from his enemies. It was strange, seeing the two unearthly creatures who used to hate each other band together for Haneul's sake; she stared at their backs, the russet wings a stark contrast to the pure white ones, the glittering obsidian blade and the shimmering diamond sword opposites joined in battle. For a moment, it seemed like Dong-woo had realized that he had finally met his match and was going to surrender; then, with a grunt, he whirled his sword around in his hand to viciously hack through the remaining strings of muscle holding his wing together. He clenched his teeth as his blood splattered across the purplish-brown earth, and his wing, the symbol of his holiness now freed from its bonds, flopped lifelessly onto the rocky ground. Blood leaked from the remaining stump jutting out of his back, further staining his red-splattered white garments.

“Ah. That feels better,” he grinned as he rolled his shoulder experimentally, then raised his sword above his shoulder in an offensive stance. “Now. Come at me!” Haneul could not help but once more think he was insane. He was barely standing, his chest heaving with every wheezing breath and his posture unbalanced, leaning heavily to the side as blood continued to flood from the laceration across his side. His hair, normally kept in a loose bun, was now hanging in twisted strings in and around his face. She could see the end of his sword quivering as he held it up, an unmistakable sign that his strength was failing. Even more, he had sliced off his wing, the very thing that made him what he was; it was evident that he was descending into madness at the thought that he would lose, and she and Baro would be together.

It was pitiful to watch, and Haneul could feel only sorry for him.

“Stop this! It's over! You're killing yourself!” she screamed desperately at him. Perhaps she could get through to him, to persuade him of his own folly, now that he was on the brink of death. His eyes flickered to her, dull, tired, devoid of the glittering confidence from before. “Please. Just let us be. Look into your heart. You know what's right,” she pleaded. For the briefest of seconds, she thought she had succeeded; the malice in his eyes wavered to confusion and questioning, weighing the weight of her words. To her dismay, the hard edge reformed in the dark depths, and his face disfigured into a scowl.

“Don't lecture me on right and wrong, human. You have no concept of it!” he hissed. Jinyoung and Gongchan had refrained from attacking the angel while the girl pleaded with him, but Dong-woo was tired of waiting for them to come to him; with an angry shout, he surged forward, the diamond sword flashing in the light as it bore down on the duo. Jinyoung rose to meet him, and the swords clashed powerfully, ringing in the air like a bell. Dong-woo pulled back slightly, and despite his grave injuries, he was still limber; he whirled in a circle around the demon, his sword swinging in his hands to strike at his exposed back, but instead it met Gongchan's blade. The elder angel hopped away as Gongchan bore heavily down on him, feet sliding in the loose gravel layer of the clifftop. They broke apart, standing in a loose triangle formation again, with the angel and demon boys standing protectively in front of herself and Baro. Dong-woo scowled, angered at the interference of the two. His gaze flickered to Gongchan, and the malice increased tenfold. “You. I can't believe that you've become the pet of these disgusting demons. You have fallen low, Gongchan.”

“I am not the one who has fallen,” the younger angel responded levelly. Dong-woo didn't take too lightly to that, and with a hiss fell upon the angel once more. Jinyoung jumped to the side as Dong-woo bore down upon his comrade, but found himself unable to interject in the fierce combat. The clashing swords resounded like thunder across the clifftop, over and over. Boom! Bam! Boom! Bam! The two angels were the writhing storm, whirling in a tornado, a flurry of movement. The swords were nothing but flashes of light, crackles of lightning within the maelstrom of battle. Though he was younger, Gongchan kept up well with the older, more experienced warrior, but likely only on the account that the other was gravely wounded. Amongst the crashing of the swords, the sliding of gravel and their grunts of exertion completed the symphony of carnage. “Look at what you have become!” Gongchan shouted at him suddenly. Like Haneul, he was attempting to appeal to whatever remained of his better nature. “You're a mess!”

They broke apart again, both breathing heavily. Dong-woo lurked like a rabid animal, prowling back and forth, his rage-filled, feral eyes locked on the comparatively calm angel. “Listen to me! I respected you! I revered you! You were someone of honor, who fought for righteousness and good! Where has that man gone?” Looking at him, it was hard to believe such a man had once existed.

“You have no right to preach to me!” Dong-woo snarled savagely and pointed his sword at Jinyoung, the closest demon. “You consort with this ilk. You have no honor of your own; how can you accuse me of having none?”

“Listen to yourself!” It was clear that he was growing frustrated with his former mentor. “Angels, demons, humans- why do the lines have to be so black and white? How can we determine what is good, and what is evil, just by appearance? Shouldn't our actions define that?” He lowered his sword slightly, looking back at the unconscious boy in Haneul's arms, and narrowed his eyes slightly. “I… Used to believe in such things, but I’m not so sure anymore. The things I have witnessed lead me to believe that there is good within him… and that the love they share is true.” His gaze flickered up to meet hers, her dark eyes holding her hazel ones for a moment, before he turned back to Dong-woo. “How can you not see? Has your hunger for power truly blinded you that much?”

“You defy God with that talk, Gongchan,” Dong-woo panted, but despite his seeming attachment to his twisted morals, Haneul could see him breaking; their words were breaking through the wall, chipping away at the hard stone structure of his mind and showing the seeds of doubt. Everything they had done had defied his cemented logic, and it was wreaking havoc within him; once again, that muddled confusion was melting into his expression, and she could see his hand trembling once again, more prominently, as he continued to hold out his sword. Gongchan snorted, raising his sword again to fall into an offensive stance.

“Well, then, if I defy him, let him strike me down here and now!” he roared, and he flew at Dong-woo. He caught the one-winged angel off-guard, as he stumbled back clumsily and flailed his arm in an attempt to block the oncoming blow. His feet slid in the loose earth as Gongchan's powerful blow sent him stumbling backwards, and it was at this time that Jinyoung decided to rejoin the fray; he appeared suddenly at the angel's side, his sword swinging downward in a vertical arc, and the angel could not escape in time. Similarly to when Baro struck him, his side was ripped open, and fresh blood splashed over the rust-colored stains that had already dried in the blazing afternoon sun. Dong-woo staggered back, his free hand flying to the gaping wound while more of his white clothing flooded with blood. It was more red than anything now, a red cloak splashed with pristine white. Still, he refused to surrender, and whirled on Jinyoung with a counterattack, his diamond sword sparkling as it sliced horizontally through the air. Jinyoung’s russet wings beat wildly as they carried him into the air, a safe distance from the blade.

Dong-woo now had to contend with an assault from two fronts, the land and the sky.

Jinyoung dove down from the small height, like a fired missile, and Dong-woo had to raise both arms above his head to block the fierce attack. With his enemy's middle fully exposed, Gongchan lashed out with his weapon, but Dong-woo was not done yet; he grabbed Jinyoung by the shirt and jerked him right out of the air, hurling him into the angel and sending then tumbling in a flurry of feathers and wings. Once they had managed to disentangle themselves, they had to scurry to either side to avoid the angel's oncoming blade, which crashed harmlessly into the hard stone and threw sparks across the blood-soaked earth. Before they could launch a counterattack on him, he whirled about, his bloody cloak fluttering wildly like red-and-white birds. However, he could not escape the weight of his wounds. With a grunt, he sank to one knee, more blood splashing across his leg and the stone. This provided plenty of opening for the two boys.

Gongchan came in from the left, his sword skimming low across the rocky ground before rising upward in a smooth arc. Dong-woo clumsily blocked it, his arm shuddering from the sheer force of the blow, but was knocked off-balance and spun around to land roughly on his hands and knees in the dirt. Before he could have ample time to recover, Jinyoung took to the air again and came shooting down in a drop-kick, landing squarely in his back. Haneul cringed as she heard the sickening crack of bones in the instant before Dong-woo's pained screech. The angel collapsed against the stone, his forehead smacking a against the rough terrain, and he lay there dazed for a moment; then, on unsteady arms, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, his sword still clutched firmly in his hand.

“You just don't know how to stay down,” Jinyoung growled, and before the angel had any time to prepare himself, he grabbed the hilt of his sword with both hands, whipped it above his head, and then send it crashing down at the joint of his uninjured wing, shearing right through the bone. As he screamed in agony, falling back to the ground to writhe, his wing flopped uselessly next to him; Haneul coold see the blood streaming down his back, leaking from the bony stump below his shoulders.

It was then that she decided that she had seen enough.

“That's enough! Let him be,” she yelled before they could deliver a killing strike, and both of them looked at her in utter disbelief. For a moment, they lingered beside the defeated angel, their swords still clutched tightly in their hands, before they both nodded and obediently stepped away from the angel, walking away from him to stand on either side of her and her boyfriend.

“Do you think… I need… Your pity?” Dong-woo hissed, his voice cracking from the sheer amount of pain that he was in. He lifted his head, and she could see that it was flushed red, beaded with perspiration. He was hunched over, unable to even find the strength to even sit fully up. Even now, as he stared at her with hatred, all she could feel for him was pity.

“You may not, but you have it anyway,” she answered. “I think… I understand you now.” The things he had told Baro had etched into her mind, and the expression he had worn when he had tried to convince him to abandon her. “You don't hate demons at all, do you? It's humans you really hate.” His eyebrows shot up his forehead, which was bleeding profusely from a gash that had resulted from his rough contact with the rock. “You never really cared about Baro at all. It was me. You don't want me to be happy. You could care less about my soul.” His face was rapidly turning pale; whether that be from truth within her words, or the wounds he had suffered, she did not know. “You've just been saying that, to convince everyone that was the reason, even yourself.”

“You… You think you know me, girl?” he hissed, but the anger was fading from his voice; she could hear the fear creeping in, leading her to believe that she was right after all. “You can't see through me.”

“You loved a human, and they abandoned you.” That was the only plausible conclusion. It was the only thing that could explain him dogging her steps, insisting upon her unhappiness. “You hate me because I’m what you couldn’t have, and you hate Baro because he has my love.”

“Shut up! You don't know anything!” he screamed at her, then collapsed coughing, his angry outburst sending him spiraling back into his own agony. Haneul watched him sadly. She could not hate him anymore, not really; he had been morphed into this monster by miserable circumstances, and was just trying to make sense of the heartbreak he had suffered. He was a pitiful creature who could not deal with his own pain, and thus had to lash out at others.

“Man. That's ed up.” Haneul gasped and looked down at Baro, who had suddenly awakened and spoken. He still looked weak, slightly pale and weary, but his wound had fully repaired itself and that playful smirk had worked its way back onto his lips. “Leave it to Haneul to figure that out. I thought you were just a crazy prick,” he laughed weakly. Haneul shifted slightly to allow him to sit up, and when he did he looked over at the pathetic angel. “Damn. I even feel sorry for you.”

“I don't want any of your pity!” he snapped, but without bite. He was just whimpering now, like a beaten dog. Haneul rose to her feet and walked over to him. She was still a little groggy from her head wound, and stumbled a little, but managed to walk over to stand over him. When he looked up at her again, he was the picture of a defeated man, his face sagging and his eyes deep pools of misery. “You just think you’re so good, don't you? You think you're sparing me anything by letting me live? My wings are gone! I’m nothing! Just kill me. That would be true mercy.”

“There's more to you than just your wings,” she asserted quietly. “Live, or die- that's your choice. It's not my business to be judge, jury, or executioner.” Dong-woo stared up at her for a moment, through dropping eyes, before slumping forward, seemingly unconscious. Haneul sighed deeply, closing her eyes, and after a moment she felt Baro's arms slide around her from behind.

“You are too good, you know,” he murmured in her ear. “If you let him live, how do you know he won't come for us again someday?”

“I don't know… but I like to hope that there's still good in him, too, and he'll find someone to bring it out of him one day. Like I brought the good out in you,” she smiled and opened her eyes, turning her face to look up at him. He snorted slightly, smiling, and leaned his face in to kiss her. However, before their lips could touch, his head snapped back to where Dong-woo was sitting and he let out a strangled cry, his arms tightening around her, and she felt him tipping backwards. She opened to inquire what was wrong, but she couldn't get the words out before the sword sliced through her.

“I won't let you ruin him like she ruined me,” she heard Dong-woo growl, but she could barely register it; she was too busy trying to register the sword sticking out of her. She looked down, her body shuddering as the shock settled in, to see the gilded hilt of the sword embedded in her stomach at a steep upward angle. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a sickening gurgle, and she felt blood dripping out of . Strangely, she didn't feel much pain; all she felt was cold, deathly cold. Behind her, she heard Baro groan and slip off the blade behind her, slumping to the ground. Somehow, she managed to turn her body, feeling the diamond sword shift in her insides, and she could see him kneeling there, holding a hand right over his heart. Blood was seeping through his fingers, and he was pale, deathly pale.

“H-Hanuel,” he whispered, and when he looked up at her his eyes were so wide, wide and filled with the purest fear she had even seen. “I love you.” He reached out for her, his fingertips trembling, and she could see them slowly turning to black dust. Somewhere in the distance she heard Gongchan and Jinyoung screaming, but that couldn't be, because they were right there, grabbing Baro by the shoulders as he slumped backward, his head rolling back and his eyes glassy as they gazed up and reflected the brilliant blue sky, a mosaic of color in their black depths, and Haneul thought they were beautiful in her confused death-trance.

Her legs wobbled and she collapsed to the ground, but her arms had not the strength to hold her up, and she landed roughly on her side. She felt something hot and sticky spreading around her, and shifted her gaze to see a thick puddle of blood pooling around her, staining her clothes that rosy shade of red. As her eyes followed it across the rock, Baro's hand came into view, and she felt the overwhelming desire to hold it. Though her arm felt like jelly, she managed to reach out and grasp it, curling her fingers around his own with what little strength she had left.

Haneul, I love you. She wanted to say it, too, but her tongue wasn't responding; the blood was filling , and breathing was becoming hard. She felt the tears begin rolling down her cheeks, wet and cold compared to the blood coating her now. Gongchan was kneeling beside her now, but she couldn't hear what he was saying; everything was white noise except Baro’s voice echoing in her mind.

Haneul, I love you. Her vision was beginning to fade, and she kept it trained on the had that she was holding, feeling the warmth fade. Haneul, I love you.

Baro, I love you.

Darkness descended over her.

Then, blinding light.