This chapter's theme music brought to you by Imagine Dragons. I always thought this track was knida fitting given Cypher's situation.

Far above the surface of the world, suspended against a back-drop of infinite blackness, the stars of the universe sparkled in the depths of deep space; gems of light scattered across the incomprehensible vastness of the open void.

For time immemorial, such stars and other astral bodies had always played a great part in the culture and tradition of the ponies of Equestria. From the holy light of Celestia's sun, the Life-Flame of Equestria which burned without end to ensure the continuation of all life in the realm, to the gentle luminescence of Luna's silver moon, as soft and delicate as perfect tranquillity, each and every pin-prick of light was held with reverence and awe by the citizens of the equine kingdom, as beautiful and magnificent as any worldly, earth-bound structure.

Yet it wasn't simply the ponies of the Celestial Sisters who looked to the stars with unreserved wonder.

For all three thousand years of their time in Equestria, three thousand years of labouring under the crushing hoof of Equestrian Imperialism, a much different species; the remnants of humanity, had also turned their gaze skywards, staring upwards at the gleaming stars in the obsidian sky in search of an icon so deeply embedded within their racial memory that all knowledge of what came before had long since been lost to the annals of history. What the humans searched for was not a unique constellation, or some other alignment of astral bodies, which were so revered by their masters, but something else, something synthetic; a God wrought by human hands and forged from blood, bone, and desperation. What they searched for was the Ark, and with it, a sign of the coming of their saviour: the Angel Cypher.

The one they had named the Heavenfall.

For centuries, humanity had always turned to the God-Dreadnought in its prayers, whispering in the shadowed twilight of Lunar Princess' night for deliverance from their eternal plight. Generations came and went; children were born, lived, grew old, and died beneath the unstoppable grind of time and its passage. But the Ark, like the princesses that withheld them in slavery, was eternal, hung as it was above the world like some ancient guardian of the human race, and content to wait until the time had come to bring salvation to the children it had ferried across the stars, and give to them the saviour promised by its prophet: the Arch-Angel Gabrielle.

Yet, to the Solar Princess and the Lunar Princess, the Ark had always held a greatly divergent significance from what it represented to the people. To those eternal, ancient creatures of unfathomable design and purpose, the Ark represented the enduring, damnable tenacity of human spirit; the indecipherable, incomprehensible drive which pushed the subjugated species to continuously rail against their confinement, never ceasing in their attempts to break free from the bonds that held them. Though much had been done to indenture humanity to its new accolade in the cosmic order, to stamp out the sparks of rebellion before they ever had a chance to blossom into the raging inferno they always threatened to be, unfortunately, not even two Demigods could block out the existence of the God-Dreadnought.

Though they both possessed the powers to control astral bodies of immense mass and direct titanic forces of aethereal energy, the Ark had always been beyond their reach, shielded by some barrier that would not tolerate the manipulation of any external influence. Studies had been done, experiments conducted, thesis papers published, and heated scholarly debates held, yet not once in the three thousand years it had held orbit above the world did the Ark ever relinquish its secrets, that dagger of grey-black metal, visible from the surface as little more than an arrow-head of white atmospheric haze, instead simply continuing to drift through the void in endless orbit above humanity's adopted home.

Endless theories had been put forward as to the nature of what exactly shielded the vessel – some scholars theorized the Void-Dreadnought to be shielded by some aethereal barrier, similar to that employed by the unicorns of the realm. Others, that the alien material of the Ark was simply inert to aethereal tampering. Whilst a bare few went so far as to state the great ship was alive, and actively rejecting the advances of the princesses – but ultimately, it remained unknown as to what protected the God-Dreadnought on its millennia long orbit, many simply accepting that it was most likely an answer would never be truly found. And so, for three thousand years, the Ark, the God-Dreadnought, the mother of the human race who had carried her children across an ocean of stars, had been permitted to orbit in peace.

Yet tonight, all that would change.

As she had begun the ritual to begin the raising of her holy moon, it had been Luna who first detected the weakening of the Ark's protective barrier; the alicorn pausing briefly in her ceremony to probe the outer edges of the God-Dreadnought's protective wards, and upon finding their strength lacking, promptly finalised her great duty before conducting eager conference with her sister, the Solar Princess, on what course of action should be taken. Of course, there was no way for the alicorns to ever truly comprehend the exact cause for the weakening of the Ark's shields, that after three thousand years the ionic shell that encapsulated the epic vessel had finally reached a point of terminal decay, but to the two sisters the cause of such weakening was of little consequence; all that mattered was that they finally had a chance to destroy the Mother of Humanity, and with such an action, brutally crush the spirits of the human populace.

Luna had been the first to suggest the use of interstellar debris to destroy the Ark, and after a full hour of correspondence with her sister, Celestia had finally yielded to the younger alicorn's proposal, much to Luna's foal-like glee. After all, both knew that there was no direct way to attack the vessel in orbit, and there was no guarantee that this weakness of Luna's discovery would last. Of course, the elder sister was right to have her doubts about the use of such objects; many of the meteors that held deep-space orbit around the terrestrial sphere of Equestria were of immense size, and even a single planetary impact from just a single object could cause a great deal of damage, provided it came down in an inhabited area. Naturally, Luna had been quick to defend her stance, reminding Celestia that the ancient wards that guarded the surface of the world had held firm against much graver threats during humanity's first arrival, and would continue to do so in the face of a mere paltry meteor storm.

As darkness had settled over the nation of Equestria, the first of the great meteorites had made contact with the Ark, rupturing through the vessel's dorsal city and plunging deep into the God-Dreadnought's metallic flesh. The first impact had been enough to send an immense bloom of scarlet fire spewing from the God-Dreadnought, like an infernal spray of arterial blood from the wound of an ancient titan. The second and third matched their brother in the ferocity of their attack: piercing into heart of the Ark with explosive force, and gutting the great vessel from within. Over the period of a mere ten minutes, the Celestial Sisters, guiding their weapons from atop the highest tower of the Canterlot Palace, destroyed what had taken over a hundred years, and tens of thousands of human lives, to create; and in the process eradicated one of the most important pieces of human culture to have ever existed.

From the surface, the death of the Ark was perhaps less dramatic. Even on the finest of Luna's nights, with the sky clear and atmospheric conditions at their peak, the God-Dreadnought occupied no more than an inch of the sky-line; a thin sliver of silver poised above the world, impossibly distant from those who looked to it with reverence. Yet as the first pillar of scarlet fire rose from the Ark's dorsal city, barely a few centimetres in length from the surface, a collective wail of despair rose from the humans of Equestria, forced to helplessly watch as their guardian was slowly ripped apart. Across the nation, humanity fell to its knees, begging pleas and agonised cries rising from their entreating supplication as they begged the God-Dreadnought to remain with them, to not abandon them to their fate as slaves beneath the ponies of the Celestial Sisters.

Yet the pleas fell on death ears, many of humanity's masters nodding their heads in acceptance of the princesses righteous actions. For too long, the Ark had served as a beacon of hope to their human pets, a final blockade in the process of finally forcing the species to submit to their position of subservience. Many rejoiced at the demonstration of the Celestial Sisters power, their faith in their leaders strength climbing to new heights as the princesses once again proved their dominance over humanity. Others mocked the pleading cries of the slaves, harsh laughter rising from the slave pens and labour barracks as wardens pointed to the death of the God-Dreadnought with vicious, barbaric grins. A rare few dared to sympathise with humanity's loss, recognising the cultural ramifications of such an action.

Yet regardless of both the humans and ponies below, the Ark continued to die, unheeding of whether some begged it to remain, and others rejoiced in its destruction.

As the thin arrow head of the Ark became engulfed in scarlet fire, something settled over humanity, as crushing and absolute as the darkness of the open void. What it was, nobody could quite say; how could one define the destruction of an object so deeply embedded in the racial memory of their species? Words such as despair, agony, anguish, despondency, were suddenly unfit for the duty of defining the collective dread that settled upon humanity's united soul, too weak in their implications to truly impress upon the psyche how deep the loss was. Some wept, some cried bloody vengeance. The elderly looked to the sky with forlorn, helpless acceptance, the young with wide, confused eyes, too inexperienced to truly appreciate the cataclysm they bore witness too. Across the nation, humanity watched the death of its God, and wept bloody tears.

Yet, even as the Ark was completely subsumed by the infernal wraiths of destructive fury that shattered the ancient vessel to its very core, the humans of Equestria saw something that sparked a brief, yet fierce reaction in their hearts, something that, for generations, they had longed for with every fibre of their collective beings. Streaking away from the death-throes of the God-Dreadnought, arcing across Luna's starlit sky on a contrail of golden fire, a lone speck of light descended upon Equestria, gleaming brightly against the back-drop of inky blackness. As one, humanity's conscious turned to the past, the racial memory of the species dialling back the centuries to a time whispered of only in the deathly silence of the darkest nights, a time when the Angels walked amongst the people.

The cynics were quick to dismiss the comet, so indentured to their lives of servitude that dreaming of anything but an existence of toil beneath their equine masters represented thought of the greatest aberrancy. The faithful were quick to preach, proclaiming aloud for all to hear that the saviour had finally come, that humanity's days of slaving beneath the ponies of the Celestial Sisters were finally young. Some had waited for decades to lay eyes upon the comets golden light, others looking to the falling star and failing to understand the implications of such an object. Yet regardless of age or belief, the minds of every human in Equestria turned as one to the legends of their fore-fathers, and final prophecy of the Arch-Angel, united in the such surge of reverential emotion that swept through them. The time of humanity's salvation was at hand.

The Heavenfall was coming.

≤ΘΘΘ≥

Cypher?

"Yes, E.V.E.?"

I believe we may have a problem...

The last Angel tensed at the words, his body locked within the thin capsule of the life-pod, his movements restricted within the choking, claustrophobic confines. Within the life-pod, everything was bathed in a deep, bloody-scarlet light; so dark that Cypher could make out only the faintest outlines of his surroundings. Beyond the pod, visible only through the tiny eight-inch by eight-inch viewing port, the universe sparkled with bright pin-pricks of light, the pod spinning on its axis as it began its descent to Habitable-Biome zero-zero-two, causing the view to alternate between glimpse of deep-space and the benighted surface of the world below, a bare few points of light visible from below.

Occasionally, as the life-pod swung around, and the world beyond the viewing port switched to the twinkling vastness of the void, Cypher was afforded occasional glimpses of the Ark; the epic bulk of the God-Dreadnought incredibly minute from this distance, and growing smaller with each passing rotation. Were it not for the trendils of scarlet wraith fire that ensnared the vessel, it would have been ludicrously easy for the Angel to lose sight of the Ark, for that great ship to simply disappear into the immensity of the universe and be lost for the rest of eternity. Briefly, an errant thought of the seeming fragility of life, of the sheer minuteness of his existence in comparison to the unknowable dimensions of reality, flickered through the Angel's mind, his consciousness reaching out to ensnare the concept and pull it closer for further analysis, yet failing to do so; the higher neurological functions of his mind still too damaged to accurately perceive such abstract contemplations.

"What sort of problem?"

I am detecting an energy signature through the life-pod's sensors, a large one. It is my belief the signature is that of some form of energy shield.

"And?"

This signature, it encapsulates the entire planet.

"What will happen when we reach it?"

I'm not exactly sure. I've encountered such a barrier before, three millennia ago when my master went to war with the Celestial Sisters. The signatures appear to be identical, which bodes ill for our life-pod. Previously, when such a barrier was used, it was proof against every weapon that the Ark could bring to bear, and if the same can be said for the signature I am currently detecting, it is highly likely that upon contact we will be instantaneously disintegrated.

Cypher felt something in his soul sigh with resignation, accepting his imminent death with a passive, uncaring shrug. Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised that his death would come so swiftly, after all, the conditions of his birth didn't bode well for his future; bursting as he did from the steel womb of his hibernation casket, blind, deaf, and inches from suffering a fatal psychological breakdown. Given such a birth, the Angel didn't seem quite so surprised that his own demise would follow so shortly after.

Yet even as the macabre thoughts drifted through his mind, the Angel felt something else within him, another emotion rising from his soul to counter the dispassionate resignation that had been first to emerge: anger. Why? Why should he die here? After all he'd borne witness too, after clawing his way from three millennia of sensory darkness, after being charged with the defence of an entire species, after finding out he was the last of his kind in the entire immensity of existence, why should he die here? No, he shouldn't; he didn't deserve too. Barely an hour had he been alive, and already his suffering had been greater than he could possibly conceive. Of all the things he deserved in recompense, for the trauma of his birth and the empty, hollow void of his own existence, death was something he would not accept. The anger began to smoulder within him, climbing with each passing moment as he contemplated the injustice of his brief time in reality, slowly building into a deadly fury.

Who decided that he should die here? What God had seen fit to look down upon him from the heavens, and deem that it was his burden to suffer for the brief instance of his existence, before snuffing him out in but the blink of an eye? The Angel felt the fury in his soul rail against such an unmerited fate, gritting his teeth in anger as a rage at the sheer injustice of the universe impressed itself upon him. No, he would not die here. Regardless of whether it had always been his preordained to live so briefly, he would not accept such terms. If this was the path fate had chosen for him, than he rejected it whole-sale. If this was what the God's had seen fit to bestow upon him, than he would spit upon their very existence. No, he would not die here. He would reach out and seize his destiny with his own two hands, and if he had to wage war against the whole universe in order to do so, the Angel had no qualms with such a price.

Is everything alright? I'm detecting a great deal of bio-electrical activity within your prefrontal cortex.

"E.V.E., what are the odds of our survival?"

Based on the analysis of the passage of micro-debris passing through the barrier; approximately nine-hundred and thirty-six to one. For reasons I cannot currently fathom, it would appear that the barrier is actively filtering which particles may pass through it. Objects of minimal mass and unstable composition move unimpeded through the energy field, whilst those above a certain mass seem to reduced at an atomic level. I've never encountered this kind of behaviour before in any form of energy shield that has been produced by the Royal Academy of Great Britannia; given the fact that the barrier is capable of actively filtering what may pass through and what isn't, I can only conclude that it is intelligent in some manner. In what way, however, I cannot tell.

"Nine-hundred and thirty-six to one?"

That is correct.

"I'll take those odds."

Interesting, your past self exhibited similar behaviour.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Under orders from the Arch-Angel Gabrielle, I may not debrief you on any subject matter regarding yourself, or the nature of your mission, until we make planet-fall.

For some reason he couldn't quite define, Cypher felt a sense of suspicion settle over him at the anima-spirit's words, the Angel suddenly aware and incredibly wary of the implications of such an utterance. The sensation fell across him with ease, some foreign, distant part of his mind cycling up as it processed thoughts he was unable to access. It was an unsettling sensation, to be aware that somewhere in the back of his mind thoughts and decisions were being made and factors analysed, all whilst being held aware from his conscious awareness. Briefly, Cypher wondered if it was the damage to his higher neurological functions that prevented him from accessing his own thoughts, or if something else, something more artificial, was purposefully locking him out.

A quick shake of his head swiftly cleared the paranoia.

If he was to survive any of this, Cypher knew he would need E.V.E. by his side. Though the anima-spirit obviously knew more than she was letting on, the last Angel was not ignorant to how important a part she would play in his continued survival. It had been E.V.E. who had awoken him from stasis, E.V.E. who had taught him to use his wings, E.V.E. who had taken him to the bridge to receive his mission, E.V.E. who had held him from death in the blazing inferno that was the dying Ark. Though the anima-spirit seemed to be holding cards close to her chest, Cypher knew that without her help he would never have awoken from his stasis, and that on the planet below her guidance would prove to be invaluable.

You needn't fear, Cypher. Though I am under orders to withhold information until we make planetfall, I am in no way your enemy.

"Sorry... I don't know what came over me."

Your paranoia is a documented medical condition, I understand completely.

"Paranoia?"

We are approaching the energy signature.

A faint popping noise emanated from above his head, signalling that the life-pod had begun to re-orientate itself for atmospheric entry. Beyond the viewing-port, the surface of the planet was hidden in the thick shadows of light, a few lights dotted here and there in the darkness, a bare few markers of civilisation amidst a great nothingness. Briefly the sight stirred a memory within the half-dormant mind of the Angel, the sight of another benighted world hung upon the void, clusters of dim, soulless light piercing through a permanent cloud-layer of choking, poisonous ash. The vision seemed to real, so vivid, that for a painful instant Cypher found himself unable to differentiate between the two scenes, unable to tell apart the sight of his own eyes and the ghostly hallucination of his own memory. A sharp pain began to build at the centre of his skull, as if something were lacerated his cerebral tissue with a jagged hook.

Then a shock ran through him, dispersing the vision.

The sensation itself wasn't painful, but it certainly wasn't comfortable either. For an instant the read-outs of his HUD, glowing the same icy-cyan white as when he first awakened, flickered briefly; his muscles tensing as they involuntarily contracted before, as quickly as the sensation had begun, the shock simply vanished. Taking a deep breath, Cypher steadied himself, still unsure as to what had just happened.

"E.V.E.?"

My systems indicated that you were slipping into a psycho-somatically induced hallucination, so in order to prevent a sudden onset of self-induced psychological trauma I administered a low-level electrical shock to your prefrontal cortex in order to negate transmission of the memory. I am as of yet unaware as to what caused this response from your psyche, but I shall investigate. Had I failed to prevent transmission, it is highly likely you would have suffered extreme psychological trauma.

"Pardon?"

What you just experienced was a memory, and the response it triggered briefly threatened to kill you.

"Oh..."

Contact with energy signature in ten seconds.

Beyond the viewing port, nothing had changed, nothing that would indicate they were only ten seconds away from colliding into a barrier that could potentially kill the last Angel in the blink of an eye. A stillness seemed to settle across reality as the seconds slowly wound down, time proceeding onwards in it's inevitable march. Cypher felt something within his stomach tighten, a knot that threatened to crush his insides if he so much as moved a muscle. Instead, the Angel simply held his breath, his mind suddenly becoming frightfully aware that within only a few brief moments he could be dead; destroyed at an atomic level and written out of existence. Would anyone know, the Angel briefly wondered, would anyone out there in the immense expense of the universe know the fate of the last Angel, or would he simply disappear into obscurity, with nary a single fellow being aware that he even existed?

Three... Two... One...

One moment the world was still, the next, the life-pod began to buffet violently, as if it were suddenly being tossed upon a storm-wracked scream. A fierce, unending shriek filed the tiny hollow, harsh and grating, like someone was dragging a box full of rusty nails across the length of a chalk board while simultaneously smashing a hundred panes of glass. The sensory input was overwhelming, Cypher letting loose a scream of his own as neurones began firing in his mind, neurotransmitter flooding his synapses. It was as if thousands of white-hot needles were being delicately hammered into his skull, each a most exquisite experience of agony. Readouts were flashing in his HUD, and somewhere in the back of his mind, the last Angel could feel E.V.E. working at the edge of his consciousness, the anima-spirit fighting the rising tide of electrical activity as she worked to keep him from the brink of death.

Cypher suddenly became painfully aware that without the anima-spirit's presence in his skull, he would have mostly likely been dead by now.

Beyond the viewing port sparks of scarlet were twisting and writhing as the outer-surface of the life-pod burrowed through the protective barrier, the tortured metal squealing as it threatened to crumble beneath the immense force of the barricade. A pressure began to build behind Cypher's eyes, as it someone were slowly squeezing the delicate tissue of his brain until it had been reduced to bloody pulp. The pressure worsened as cold trendils of numbness began to worm down the length of his spine and diffuse into his body, probing his flesh. The trendils spread until not a single inch of his body had been spared their presence, his skull threatening to cave in on itself, before, in a single, horrifying instant of clarity, Cypher felt someone, something, turn its attention towards him. For what seemed like an eternity, the last Angel found himself beneath the scrutinizing gaze of something truly vast and ancient, something that looked into the very deepest recess of his soul and in its unknown depths sought to gain full knowledge of his purpose in existence.

It was an odd sensation, to say the least. Cypher felt the numbness within his heart seem to deepen, his chest so dead that it seemed almost inconceivable that the mass of muscle within was still capable of beating, whilst the pressure in his skull seemed to focus into a single point of refined agony at the very periphery of his consciousness. The sentience, if that was accurate enough a description for whatever entity was currently coiling through his mind, seemed to tightening itself around his brain, slowly suffocating his very existence as it pushed deeper for what it sought. What it searched for, Cypher couldn't say, but as he cast his own awareness into self-reflection, looking within himself to try and rationalise what the entity was searching for, he seemed to meet something, some sort of barricade that was holding him from his own thoughts. The last Angel suddenly became acutely aware that beyond that barrier was something – perhaps knowledge, perhaps memories, perhaps emotions too powerful to ever be experienced – of such dire import that its very existence had been purposefully hidden from him; and whatever the entity was searching for was on the other side of that barricade.

He tried to scream, tried to shout, tried to call E.V.E. for help, yet all he could manage was a mute whimper.

The coiling ice around his consciousness suddenly clenched tighter, Cypher letting a choked gasp pass his lips as he felt the entity constrict itself so tightly he half-expected his head to simply implode. Within his chest his heart was pumping erratically, beating hard against his ribs as if it sought to burst free from his very flesh, whilst his throat seemed to constrict shut, the last Angel struggling to draw breath as a sharp, stabbing pain suddenly ripped through his skull. Images, moving swifter than comprehension, tumbled through the Angel's mind, the deluge of scenes reduced to little more than a blur as a torrent of withheld memories seemed to burst through the barricade of his mind. Of the ever shifting mass of colour, sound, and emotion, Cypher was too pained to even provide his full comprehension, the last Angel barely capable of maintaining consciousness as the numbing trendils began to withdraw from mind. For one final instance, Cypher was held above an abyss of exquisite agony, tears streaming from dead, exhausted eyes as he drowned in a horrid surge of grief, sorrow, anger, confusion, love, and loss; one final torrent of memory and emotion threatening to utterly consume him before the entity was suddenly gone, and the sentience's attention directed elsewhere, no longer heeding of the lone organic life-form as it descended to the world below.

It seemed an eternity before he was capable of movement again, the last Angel of mankind struggling to rationalise his existence as he stared blankly into the upper corner of the life-pod, thin trickles of blood seeping from his tear ducts. Why? Why was this happening? What cruel God would allow such torment to befall a soul who'd barely awakened to the vastness of the universe? Questions circled within his mind, each as hopeless and disparate as the one preceding, yet no answer was given, no consolation offered for the agony of his existence. None. All that could be heard was silence, and the faint patter of his bloody tears and they dripped from his chin and fell upon the grime stained fabric of his hibernation gowns.

Drip... Drip... Drip...

Wait...

"E.V.E.?" he managed in a choked voice, his words littler more than guttural moans so quite they were barely audible. "E.V.E.?"

Within his mind came a reply, something that sounded like a cross between static interference and a deep, booming echo. For several long, painful seconds Cypher waited with baited breath, listening to the silence and static as he prayed that his travelling companion was alive within the artificial wiring of his skull, and that he hadn't been abandoned to face existence alone, before finally, with a voice as faint as his, the anima-spirit replied.

Do not fear, Cypher, I still live.

Cypher allowed a faint smile to pull at the edges of his mouth, his muscles giving up in exhaustion a few moments later in their weakness. "We... made it?"

Correct, we have passed through the energy signature, and are now within the atmosphere of Habitable-Biome zero-zero-two. According to our current trajectory, we will be making surface contact within minutes.

"Won..." Cypher paused mid-sentence, flecks of blood and spittle leaving his mouth as he coughed weakly. "Wonderful..."

There is just one issue.

"Pardon?"

The life-pod's transition through the energy signature placed an incredible amount of tension upon the pod's inner structure, causing severe damage. The life-pod will begin breaking up momentarily.

Cypher felt something within the ragged shreds of his heart slump in resignation.

"Oh..."

As if on cue, the life-pod suddenly let out a horrendous shriek; a sharp, keening wail like that of some terrible banshee seeking sustenance for its incorporeal flesh. A thick storm of sparks burst from every surface of the pod's interior, searing dozens of small holes into the Angel's already decrepit, stained clothing as the life-pod's electronic systems began a cataclysmic malfunction, each spark nipping at the skin like a gnat of fire. The Angel's HUD suddenly revved into life, data-streams pouring into his vision as E.V.E. patched into what was left of Life-pod's onboard systems, relaying information between herself and the on-board, low function anima-spirit. Beyond the viewing port the wild scarlet sparks had died, instead now replaced with a painfully bright orange nimbus of fire as the life-pod began atmospheric re-entry, a contrail of golden fire in its wake as it arced across the star-studded canvas of Luna's night sky.

The flight, whilst turbulent when he had been passing through the energy signature, was now something more akin to being tossed on a storm-wracked ocean than atmospheric re-entry. Save for the blinding glowing of the golden contrail outside the viewing port, Cypher could make out nothin but the cold light of his HUD, the rest of the world reduced to a cataclysmic confusion of shrieking wails, dancing sparks, and his own, heart-rending fear. Throwing his arms up to shielding his eyes from the tempest of flying sparks, Cypher raised his voice in a cry as the life-pod suddenly buckled, a particularly sharp squeal of tortured metal briefly rising above the ongoing screaming. "E.V.E.!"

Remain calm. The anima-spirit replied within his mind, her voice firmer and stronger than before, reinforced by an undercurrent of fierce determination. I am afraid all on-board functions are beginning to fail. The propulsion units have already reached shut-down and we've also lost anti-gravitic capabilities. Life-support is offline an-. A sudden burst of fresh sparks fell from above, the last Angel hissing in pain as they seared the sensitive flesh of his shoulders and neck. And we've just lost the on-board anima-spirit. I am afraid we now lack the capacity to alter the life-pod's vectoring.

"What can we do?" Cypher managed as the panel next to his face suddenly burst loose, a storm of metal shards ricocheting within the confines of the life-pod as several pieces chose to embed themselves within his flesh.

Nothing, this level of damage is beyond my capacity to repair.

Without warning, the front of the life-pod was suddenly torn free in a violent fury of shattering glass, metal shards, golden fire, and continuous, unending screaming, a full half of the life-pod's bulk jettisoned in the blink of an eye to leave the last Angel exposed to the raging inferno of his own descent. Fire and wind whipped against his features, the sensations entailed by both so similar that Cypher found himself unable to differentiate between the sharp, icy touch of high-altitude and the searing, scorching conflagration that was consuming the life-pod. Cypher cried out in surprise above the roar of the wind, pushing backwards into his seat as tongues of fire threatened to scorch his flesh.

Cypher, we are running out of time. The buckled harness that held Cypher in place suddenly dislodged itself, each protective strip retracting into the seat behind him, increasing the Angel's range of movement exponentially, and allowing him to climb free from the life-pod's lone seat. I understand that this may be a harrowing experience for you. But I need you to act now, or we will both die, and humanity will lose its salvation. I need you to follow my instructions to the letter, understand? There was an almost organic edge of fear in E.V.E.'s voice, the modulated voice mimicking the expression so well that for a brief moment Cypher failed to realise he was engaging with little more than a data-programme. Nodding his head, the last Angel stomach his fear and grit his teeth.

"Yes."

Good. Get out of the life-pod.

Pulling one hand free from the flying wreck that was the life-pod, Cypher clung for dear life as he pulled himself from his seat. Above him, beyond the fires of decaying pod, the stars of the void winked at him, so impossibly calm and tranquil in comparison to the chaos of his own existence; whilst below, distant yet stealing ever closer, clusters of light, pin-pricks of civilisation amongst an ink-black ocean of barbarism, growing larger with each passing moment. Stretching out behind the wreck of the life-pod, the contrail of golden fire came streaming from what remained of the pod's thrusters, a trio of triangular nozzles clustered together at the base of the pod. The pod itself was heavily damaged, but thankfully not the extent that he'd envisioned; the majority of its external plating having broken loose to reveal the delicate inner-workings, blood-red flames and black smoke leaking from within as the life-pod continued its terminal decay.

Looking down to where his hand gripped the pod, his grip so tight that the knuckles had turned white, Cypher saw with some shock he'd actually created a dent in the metal; so strong was his fear of death. "I'm out of the life-pod," he told E.V.E. over the wind's roar. "Now what?"

The systems are too badly damaged for me to acquire accurate coordinates of our drop-zone, but based on current telemetry we're heading towards a location recorded in the Ark's archives as the Royal Ruins. When the time comes, I will need you to manually jettison from the life-pod. Statistically, you will be more likely to survive the descent with your wings than if you remain in the pod itself.

"Are you sure about this?!"

I am thirty-nine percent certain that this shall succeed, with an error margin of three percent.

"I... I'm not so sure I like those odds."

Whether you like them or not is irrelevant. If you do not jump, you will die. If you do jump, there is a chance you will not die. It is that simple.

Nodding in grim acceptance, Cypher turned to gaze at the landscape below him as it raced by, little more than a blur at his current speed. Though it was the dead of night, the sun clearly absent from the sky, the night was alive beneath the gentle silver glow of the moon, the silver orb itself hung above the world, pale and beautiful in the silence of the twilight. Beneath him, the ground was bathed in the moons illumination, its features visible only as faint silhouettes and darkened clusters of shadows. Ahead of the life-pod, and approaching rapidly, a small chain of mountains jutted from the surface of the world, each peak capped with thick layer of glittering snow. The closest, also the largest, seemed to bear signs of habitation, one face covered in faint, warm orange lights. To the left, the world seemed to stretch away in the distance, flat and featureless, save for the gentle undulations of the landscape, and the few pin-pricks of light that shone out in the darkness.

Time seemed to lose it relevance as Cypher clung for his life amidst the smoking ruins of the life-pod, the passage of individual seconds too abstract a concept to have any meaningful relation to the imminent fear that course through his being. Adrenaline sang within him, every fibre of his being coiling and constricting as Cypher fought the paralysis that threatened to seize him, threatened to bind him to the wreckage of the life-pod until its descent finished with a final, climactic end of fire and shrapnel. Fear had seized him, a deep, soul scourging fear that sought to extinguish what little hope the last Angel continued to kindle within his heart; the one source of light which, for all his trials and pains during his brief existence, refused to succumb to the predations of misery. What could retain such an emotion within him, Cypher couldn't honestly say; how could one maintain faith through such experiences as his?

Yet, it was still there, buried deep within him; a flickering candle amidst the darkness of his reality. There was something almost... instinctual about it, Cypher gleaning from such hope a sense of raw, unshakable belief and resolve. Perhaps it was simply a part of his survival instinct, the subconscious desire within his mind to claim each bitter moment of life, to persevere regardless of the odds; it was the most logical explanation for the continued existence of such irrational belief. But even such a concise, scientific rationalisation of the strange knot in his heart seemed too clinical, too cold. Whatever it was the continued to flicker within the depths of his heart, Cypher suddenly felt seized by the strong urge to foster such hope, the last Angel realising somewhere within the broken web of his higher functions that without such a basic hope to persevere he would swiftly meet his own demise.

From within him, from the same hidden hollow that shielded the flickering embers of his hope, came something else, a sudden, wild sense of exultation. What it was, and what inspired it, Cypher was at a loss to say. Whatever it was, as the surge of uplifting emotion ran through him, the last Angel knew that there was no words in existence that could accurately define such a sensation. The air was cool against his dirt-grimed features, ice-cold where it met the streams of blood leaking from his tear-ducts, and whipping at his face as it caught the length of his hair, sending its soot-stained strands flying out behind him in the wind. Each breath was fresh and clear, a far cry from the stagnant, stale air of the Ark that he had taken his first breaths upon. Even from so high up, the scents of life reached him, the last Angel taking a deep draught from the air as he took in every scent, every fragrance; the heavy musk of vegetation and the delicate perfume of wild-flowers. For the briefest of moments, the world seemed to fall away from the last Angel, the physical stimuli of reality receding to leave behind a world forged of sound and scent, a world of impulse, action and reaction.

The mountain peak suddenly seemed to come rearing from the shadows, rising from the blackness below in the manner of some mighty beast ascending from the lightless depths of the deep ocean. At the very peak, twinkling in the silver light of the moon and the fainter illumination of the stars, the snow cap of the mountain glittered like the diamond studded crown of some magnificent regent; a lord formed from the very bones of the world. From the lowest rims of the snow-cap, streams of crystal clear spring-water trickled their way down the northern face, slowly binding together to form a swift flowing river that ran a fair course before meeting a jutting lip of rock against the north face, where it promptly plunged from the mountains heights into the verdant valley below.

But it wasn't the natural beauty of the peak that seized the attention of the last Angel, it was the clusters of light that marked it.

Gathered together on the shelf of rock where the mountain stream flowed into the open void of high-altitude, vibrant, bright lights, like those of a fire-fly colony, twinkled in the night; a city built into the mountains very stone. Large boulevards cut across the cities lengths: wide, grand, and where they met in junctions, made opulent by the presence of decorative statues and commemorative memorials. Splitting off from these grand through-fares were a myriad number of smaller roads, each in turn devolving into narrower and narrower streets; the circulatory system of a metropolis. From an altitude such as his, Cypher had difficulty making out any specific buildings, but from the rear of the city, thrusting up into the sky like needles of marble, a cluster of elegant spires rose from an incredible base of walls, towers, halls, and gardens; a palace of the Gods, armoured in white marble and gold panelling, studded with a thousand rainbow hues of flickering light.

As his eyes settled upon it, Cypher felt the sudden surge of wild exultation within his soul suddenly die, crushed beneath his remembrance of the knowledge that, though his existence was as of yet a brief one, it was an existence driven by a purpose. There was a reason he had been fashioned into the winged form that he held, a reason he had been suspended within the depths of the Ark, a reason that after three-thousand four-hundred years of silence he had been born back into reality: to free humanity from slavery. True, he was as of yet unaware of the semantics of their slavery, of what it was exactly that withheld humanity from following its own destiny; but regardless, the release of an entire species from subjugation was, in itself, a cyclopean task, and never one to be taken lightly. Perhaps he would face whatever entity resided within the walls of that gilded palace, perhaps, somewhere within its opulent halls and majestic structure, there awaited the one who held dominion over humanity, watching as he made his descent from the heavens.

For a handful of seconds the Angel regarded the metropolis before him, shining out into the darkness of the night in defiance of its shadows. And then it was gone, and the life-pod continued to rocket towards the surface of the world.

Sailing past the lights of the city, the life-pod began making its final descent towards Habitable-Biome zero-zero-two, arcing across the sky whilst a verdant valley opened up beneath it. With the lights of the city gone, the life-pod was swiftly subsumed by the darkness of the night, Cypher realising that at any moment he could come smashing into the ground with enough force to reduce his body to bloody pulp, and that he was all but blind to it. "E.V.E.?" he called out, the words all but torn from his mouth by the wind as it rushed past. "I can't see a thing out here, it's too dark!"

Be calm, Cypher, I have a counter-measure in place.

Before he could even open his mouth to ask, Cypher felt pulse run through his mind, as if hundreds of sparks were being set off at once. Within his vision, his HUD seemed to expand, its icy-cyan illumination intensifying as thousands of minute lines began to flicker into existence, gradually increasing in number until everything visible was silhouetted in his vision by an outline of icy-cyan, providing the last Angel with the ability to finally pierce through the darkness around him. several dozen miles ahead, and approaching rapidly, a small settlement rose from the base of the valley, little more a hundred or so buildings at the most; the lights of the quite town dim against the silver light of the moon. Noting down its position, Cypher saved the knowledge of the villages approximate location within his mind, noting with some trepidation that, other than the city, it seemed to be the only habitation for miles.

Yet as quickly as the village had come it was gone, and it was only a bare few moments later that Cypher found himself shooting over what seemed to be the incredible density of a forest, the ground beneath him all but obscured by the rippling bowers of vast trees. Realising that he was only a hundred or so meters above the tops of the trees, Cypher readied himself, the ignition rings of his wings beginning to cycle up as he subconsciously roused the flight instincts within him; synthetic wings beginning to unfurl as he rose from his crouched position within the life-pod until he was nearly fully standing, his grip still as firm as ever. Be vigilant. E.V.E. abruptly warned him, her presence so sudden that Cypher nearly released his grip on the life-pod. We will be making planetfall within thirty seconds.

Time seemed to slow as Cypher spread his wings, the last Angel dully aware somewhere at the back of his mind that within thirty seconds he could be dead, little more than bloody paste staining the forest floor. Yet even as the thoughts occurred Cypher dismissed them, fully aware that if he dwelt on such morbid thoughts it would be much more likely that they'd come to pass. Twenty seconds. E.V.E. notified in her monotonous voice. Manual ejection in five seconds. Cypher felt the knot in his stomach tighten.

Four seconds.

His palms were becoming sweaty.

Three seconds.

The roar of the wind had died in his ears, replaced instead with the hollow rattling of his own breath as he took shallow gulps of air.

Two seconds.

The ignition rings began to whine loudly, a fierce orange glow suffusing them as ionised particles simply awaited to be released.

One second.

Oh God. This was really happening?!

Manual ejection, now!

With a roar of fear and confusion, Cypher leapt from the burning wreckage of the life-pod, ignition rings firing as he tumbled through the frigid air towards the surface of the world. Everything became a mass of confusion, his vision reduced to little more than spinning blurs and obscure patterns as he struggled to arrest his path into something more understandable and manageable. The roar had returned to his ears, his heart beating within his chest with such violence it threatened to burst through his ribs. The whine of his ignition rings suddenly died, the harsh noise simply dissipating as Cypher realised with a horrendous jolt that there was nothing to prevent his imminent collision with the ground. Somewhere, a muffled explosion filled the air as the Life-pod met the ground; shards of shrapnel and stone burying themselves within the Angel's flesh. Crying out with fear, Cypher barely had to time register the pain before he smacked into the ground hard, his body impacting against a patchwork of rubble flagstones. A sharp pain flared within his chest, Cypher struggling for breath as he bounced twice more, his wings throwing up showers of sparks with each collision.

For a few heartbeats longer, the world was a unrendered blur of obscure images and bone-deep pain before, with one final impact, Cypher felt his whole body smash into something hard, cold, and unyielding. Stars scattered across his vision, his HUD flickered before shutting off entirely. Clinging to consciousness, Cypher held on to his awareness long enough to hear E.V.E. utter a final sentence before allowing his shattered body to slip into the peace of utter exhaustion.

Secondary Objective complete. Planetfall to Habitable-Biome zero-zero-two: successful.

Author's Note

Well, it took a while, but here's the second chapter. Sorry it took me so long to get it finished.

Anyways; WOW. One chapter in and The Heavenfall already has 788 favourites and 538 thumbs up! Thanks for all your support guys, and rest assured that I shall do my best to ensure The Heavenfall remains a readable fic.

As ever, comments are always appreciated; so if there's anything about the story you'd like to point out, or you just wanna stroke my ego for me, be sure to leave one. Also, three lucky readers, selected at random, shall receive the viewing password for any unreleased chapters, so fingers crossed! Again, thanks for your patience, and stay tuned for the next chapter of The Heavenfall.

Erol.