Chapter 170: Century’s End

{Diana}

Diana watched the new recruits stumble through basic sword forms. Their wings flapped uselessly. Their stances crumbled under their own weight.

[Like watching baby birds try to fuck.]

“Straighten up!” Diana barked. “You think demons care if you’re tired?”

A recruit – barely past her first decade – dropped her sword. It clattered on marble.

“S-sorry, Commander Diana!”

“Sorry doesn’t bring you back from death.” Diana kicked the sword back to her. “Again.”

The recruits scrambled to reset. Diana crossed her arms, enjoying their panic. After a century of this, watching them flail never got old.

Then the air shifted.

Every recruit stopped mid-swing. Their eyes went wide, staring past Diana at something behind her. Or someone.

Diana didn’t need to turn around. She recognized that presence.

[Of course she’d make an entrance.]

Grace landed on the arena floor with perfect control. No stumble. No awkward wing adjustments. Just pure, confident grace that took a century to achieve.

Diana finally turned. Her eyes swept up Grace’s body, cataloging changes.

[Fuck me.]

Grace had grown over the years. Not just taller – though she’d gained at least three inches. Her breasts had gone from non-existant to massive, straining against her white robes. Hips that used to be narrow now flared wide enough to make Diana’s hands itch. Arms and legs showed actual muscle definition. Her white hair reached past her ass now, like a natural cape.

But the real change was her presence. The shy farm girl was gone. This Grace stood with her weight on one hip, golden eyes half-lidded with confidence.

“Miss me?” Grace’s voice had dropped an octave. Smoother. Richer.

Diana rolled her eyes.

“You’re interrupting training.”

“Am I?” Grace sauntered forward.

The recruits parted like water.

Grace picked up a training sword from the rack. Tested its weight. Then pointed it directly at Diana’s throat.

“How about a demonstration?” That smirk. That fucking smirk Diana wanted to kiss off her face. Or fuck off. Both.

“You sure you remember which end to hold?” Diana drew her own blade.

“Only one way to find out.”

They circled each other. The recruits pressed against the walls, sensing violence.

Grace moved first.

[Holy shit.]

Her speed had tripled. The training sword whistled through air where Diana’s head had been. Diana barely got her blade up in time to block the follow-up.

“Not bad.” Diana grinned. “For a farmer.”

“Ex-farmer.” Grace’s strikes came faster. “I’ve had good teachers.”

They danced across the arena. Diana had to actually try now. Grace’s technique was still rough compared to Diana’s centuries of experience, but her raw power made up for it.

Their swords locked at the hilts. Grace leaned in close.

“Yield?” Her breath tickled Diana’s ear.

“Fuck off.”

Diana headbutted her. Grace laughed and spun away.

“There’s the Diana I remember.”

They separated, both breathing harder. The recruits watched with mouths open.

“GRACE!”

Seraph’s voice boomed across the arena. The commander of the Bravery Sisters vaulted the railing and landed between them.

“Put the swords down before you traumatize my recruits more.” Seraph grinned. “Good to see you vertical.”

“Good to be vertical.” Grace tossed the training sword back to its rack. “How’s the arm?”

“Still attached.” Seraph flexed her left arm. A century ago, it had been severed in battle. Now crystalline scars marked where it rejoined. “You heading out today?”

They walked to a bench overlooking the training grounds. Diana dismissed the gawking recruits with a glare.

“I think a hundred years is enough, Seraph.” Grace sat down, crossing those long legs.

[When did she learn to sit like that?]

“You sure?” Seraph’s voice turned serious. “The Origin isn’t just dangerous. It’s suicide for most angels.”

“I’m not most angels.” Grace watched new recruits filter in for afternoon training. “Besides, I made a promise.”

“To Azrael.” Seraph shook her head. “That stubborn bitch won’t thank you for dragging her back.”

“Probably not.” Grace stretched, robes pulling tight across her chest. “But someone has to try.”

Diana leaned against a pillar, pretending not to stare. A century had changed more than Grace’s body. Her whole energy felt different. Confident. Flirtatious. Like she finally understood the power she wielded, and liked it.

“How’s the realm?” Grace asked. “I’ve been gone so much lately.”

“Stable.” Seraph counted on her fingers. “Demon attacks are down. The Veil remnants integrated fully. No major disasters.”

“And the Pillars?”

“Your friends?” Seraph laughed. “The Earth-Tenders live with the Root now. The Root teaches younger angels about balance and growth. The Mountain opened a meditation retreat – angels pay to sit still for weeks. Can you imagine?”

Grace smiled.

“The others?”

“The Flame works with the Bravery Sisters. Controlled anger training. The Tempest handles weather management. The Void…” Seraph paused. “You’d know better than me.”

“She’s doing well.” Grace’s expression softened. “Learning to feel without emptiness consuming her. Our visits help.”

Diana snorted.

“Visits. That’s what you’re calling it?”

“We talk.” Grace’s eyes sparkled. “Among other things.”

“And the Tide?” Diana couldn’t help asking. “Still making booty calls to the ocean?”

“She gets lonely.” Grace shrugged. “I help with that too.”

Seraph whistled.

“Busy days for you.”

“Someone has to check on them.” Grace stood. “Make sure they stay stable. Happy.”

[Always the savior.]

“When do you leave?” Seraph asked.

“Now.” Grace spread her wings. Pure white, spanning fifteen feet. “No point waiting.”

“Grace—”

“I’ll be fine.” Grace touched Seraph’s shoulder. “I’ve trained for this. Every day. Every technique. Every possible scenario.”

She was right. Diana had watched her progress from clumsy flyer to aerial artist. Seen her master complex maneuvers that took most angels millennia. All for this moment.

“The Origin will try to tear you apart.” Diana stepped forward. “The gravity shifts. The color storms. The screaming winds.”

“I know.” Grace met her eyes. “You helped train me for it.”

“That was training. This is real.”

“I’m going, Diana.” Grace’s voice held steel now. “She’s been alone for a century. That’s enough.”

Diana wanted to argue. Wanted to lock Grace in a tower until she forgot this suicide mission. But the new Grace was impossible to cage. It was painfully difficult to talk this girl out of anything.

[Fuck. When did she get so stubborn?]

“Fine.” Diana stepped back. “Try not to die.”

“I’ll do my best.” Grace winked.

She leaped into the air. Her wings caught the wind casually. No wobble. No hesitation.

Grace had become everything Seraph, Venus, and Mara had trained her to be. Strong. Confident. Unstoppable.

Diana watched her circle higher. Other angels stopped to stare. Word had already spread – Grace Lightsinger was making her move.

“Think she’ll make it?” Seraph asked.

“If anyone can, she will.” Diana tried to sound casual. Failed. “Stubborn bitch.”

“Learned from the best.” Seraph clapped Diana’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get drunk and pretend we’re not worried.”

They left the arena. But Diana looked back once more.

Grace hung in the air like a star. Divine light radiated from her form. Then she turned and shot toward the horizon.

Toward the Origin. Toward chaos incarnate. Toward Azrael.

[You better come back, farmgirl. Or I’ll kill you myself.]

The recruits whispered among themselves. They’d witnessed Grace Lightsinger in person. The angel who killed demons. Who saved the Pillars. Who absorbed corruption and lived.

“Was that really her?” one asked.

“The Saintess herself,” another breathed.

Diana scowled.

“Back to training! Unless you want to explain to demons why you’re still shit at swordwork!”

They scrambled to obey. But their eyes kept drifting to where Grace had vanished.

—

{Grace}

Wind rushed past Grace’s face as she flew. The Dominion shrank behind her. Ahead lay the wasteland between civilization and chaos.

[A hundred years for this moment.]

She’d trained until her wings bled. Practiced maneuvers until muscle memory took over. Studied every account of the Origin until she could navigate it blind.

All for Azrael. Still punishing herself in self-imposed exile.

[Dramatic idiot. Just like Eternia.]

The landscape below shifted from green to brown to grey. Life couldn’t survive near the Origin. The raw creation energy corrupted everything.

Grace’s mind wandered to the past century. So much had changed. The Pillars found purpose. The realm stabilized. She’d grown into her power.

And her body. Venus’s training had unexpected side effects. Channeling Love energy for decades altered her physically. Curves appeared where none existed. Her presence became magnetic.

[Not complaining about the tits though.]

She thought about her regular visits. The Void, learning to exist without emptiness. Their quiet conversations that sometimes became more. The way she’d gasp when Grace—

[Focus.]

The Tide was different. Pure physical need. Grace would arrive at the ocean and immediately be pulled under. Hours of desperate touching until the Tide’s loneliness faded.

[She’s gotten creative with those tentacles.]

But it wasn’t just sex. Grace helped them process emotions. Taught them healthy ways to exist. Showed them they deserved more than abandonment.

[Everyone deserves that.]

The air grew thinner. Colors started bleeding at the edges of reality. The Origin was close.

Grace checked her equipment. Armor reinforced by Earth-Tenders. Sword blessed by the Flame. Circlet upgraded by the Mountain. Gifts from Pillars who wanted to help.

[Time to see if a century was enough.]

She’d left letters. Just in case. One for each friend. Diana’s was shortest: “Don’t break too much furniture.”

The horizon warped. Space bent wrong. Sounds that shouldn’t exist reached her ears.

The Origin. Where Eternia first shaped reality. Where creation energy still ran wild. Where Azrael waited in self-imposed prison.

[Hold on. I’m coming.]

Grace took a deep breath. Then dove into chaos.

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