They were in the club ready for the fight.
Moebius had greeted the warriors with an excited apprehension, she led them to a corridor that had been hidden by her bookcase and took them down to the portal room. Her words echoed in Belials ear, you must not mae contact with yourselves if you are already in this world, go straight to the club, wait there and you will intercept the attack on cue as promised.
They were her only words, and the Demons obeyed her wishes.
They were in the club, all five groups covering different parts of it, lights flashing and the booming bass of repetitive trance music choking them.
The Club was owned by the Demons as a way of funding their eartbound espionages, it was always compulsory to blend amongst the humans to discover what was new happening on earth, Priests and Vicars always deemed themselves useful ports of information, many of which had to be infiltrated and questioned. It was a thankless task, but the Demons let the Humans fund it by attending their drug induced stagnant cess pool of a club.
A simple place. One large box for a sunglasses donning arrogant prune of a human being, clad simply in jeans and open shirt, making erratic hand singles to the whooping humans below him on the circular dance floor.
There were two long bars all attended by young nubiles wearing black poloshirts and plastered full of make-up serving plastic bottles full of poisonous beverage.
The Human gathering below him was not unlike the infested infectious violence that he witnessed in hell a few hours previous. The same spasmodic grinding, and nonsensical hand signals made to passers by, friends and strangers.
They were at the club, and they were waiting.
It was approaching midnight when twenty five figures clad in long white robes entered the forum. Headed by a large bearded individual with gleaming brown eyes and a dark look upon his face. This was Micahel. The Archangel who had led the Seraphim Order of Heaven to many victories and few defeats. An intimidating lunk of a man who was only here for one thing.
*in this white wave I am sinking*
The music floated above Belials adrenaline for a moment, and suddenly he was lost in a strange Euphoria. This lasted only a few moments before...
*in this silence I believe*
Michael sliced open the back of a nearby human, one swift movement; the rapier under his gown and across the bare back of a young teenage girl. A girl probably too young to be at this place, and much too young to die in such a casual manner.
Another young girl was chopped before the dancing viruses realised what was happening.
*Heaven holds a series of wonder*
The music stopped and the humans started screaming and fleeing the scene. All of the Angels below had their weapons out and were slashing the scampering, horrified youngsters as they raced for the exit.
"Where are all the Demons? Wouldn't it be fitting if they appeared this evening? A little drink maybe boys? How about a bloody Mary." On the Word mary Michael cut down another young woman in a red dress, decapitating her with ease and watched with a placid grin as her curly blonde head rolled across the dancefloor.
Lucifer broke the cover of his dark corner and raced to a balcony positioned above the heads of the Angels. "You're right, these Human's must be such easy meat for you Michael, maybe you do need a demon to show the order of the world."
Michael glared up at the long haired figure and smiled. "I wonder if titivillus saw this night my partner of destiny."
"For your sake I hope not." Lucifer covered the waver in his voice very nicely.
With a grim laugh Micahel launched himself in the air, fifteen feet to the balcony and the rest of the Angels cried in bloodlust. All the Demons broke cover and mounted a simultaneous attack.
Belial came face to face with a tall muscular blonde Angel. The distinctive ring of metal clashing in lust and hatred greeted his ears, and spurred him on. The Angel was a challenge, however not much of one. Belial's quick footwork and excellent swordplay bested him within seconds. Falling the Blonde angel held a hand to his throat and thick red seeped through his sausage thick fingers. Belial jumped up to the Balcony, followed by Aim and Aamon to confront to leaping Seraphim attacking Beelzebub's lieutenant Charn.
It was Obvious Charn was outmtched and he had fallen screaming to the wooden floor before Belial had managed to land before the shrieking Seraphim.
Surrounded by a cacophony of clashing metal, ripping skin, screaming etheral Angels and Demons, and falling bodies, Belial felt suddenly at home again. The war was on, he was fighting for the right to tell God that he will not be ruled under a dictatorial cover of lies and propaganda, and is here to help freedom burst through the dark heavenly clouds again.
All Demons fought with a frenzy, adrenaline taking control of their quick limbs and superior muscles, rendig, swiping, tearing and sutting through the advancing Angelic onslaught until victory was clearly evident.
It was during the Seraphims retreat that Belial looked around, and saw the one thing that would change the course of the war. The one hatred he could hold to his own, and the one thing that would turn the tide.
A young Angel was being brutalised after surrendering to the Demons. A beautiful young angel was being tortured by Aamon and his Lieutenants.