Outside, up in the air, the sky was quiet, save for the small sounds of greedily gulps, and the occasional flap of powerful wings.
Meanwhile, in the mall, the space containing Noah's and the Seraphim's' battle had become catastrophic. The area was no different than a war zone. The walls looked as if they were holding the rest of the structure by a thread.
The rest of the room was either cracked, scorched, or covered in a divine shine that gave off a deceptively warm, welcoming appearance. But those who knew what that energy signified would see that miraculous energy as a blissful hell.
And in the center of it all, Noah was still fighting the creature whose aura outshined everything else. He was losing ground, a large portion of the slime that encompassed his body was dissolved, bathed in flames by the Seraphim's attacks.
