My hooded figure tore a path through the falling flakes. Whether it was snow or ash was hard to tell and irrelevant. Nothing had grown here in a while. I made my way inside the bunker where I felt I had been led towards my whole life. The whispers in my sleep, the cryptic directions and instructions were all for this.

I had visited the last battleground in that Holy War where blood of angels and man alike was spilt and pilfered from a war machine its heart. As the construct of human malice crumbled to dust, I saw some color return to the ever-dark site; I don't think I'd ever seen the moon before. I went to the place which always bore the same name and looked through the Flaw to see the machinery that worked souls. I could have wrought living beings with this knowledge, but that art was reserved for the gods, not even angels dared infringe upon that sacred law.

But I was able to repair the heart I'd stolen. A faintly glowing crystal I brought to that bunker. Break the night. Bring the dawn. This whispered slogan echoed louder as I approached the basement, that sacrilegious holy ground. Upon the metal slab lay two rings of bone, one nestled inside the other. Every voice I'd ever heard was this Thing. It had a Name once, perhaps it will again. Perhaps it may take my name. Probably something more sacrosanct.

I fitted the crystal into an invisible chamber within the rings. It began to glow, and a warmth filled the room. The rings began to spin and turn around a fire in the middle. Eyes sprang open along the rings, and lightning leapt through the roof to shape six wings. The whispers I'd heard opened a door, and I was admitted to the room they reside in. I felt the lightning charring my skin. As it broke away the physical, I felt the immaterial freed. The Angel sang at my dissolution, and I finally knew peace. I tell my story now that I may let go of it and become one, that I may fully dissolve. Maybe the world can even be saved. Maybe I can be saved.