But the sword never made contact; a golden chain shot out from somewhere, grappled his entire body, flung him downwards. And Lucifer, frozen, kicking, screaming — he saw Michael suddenly above him, then grabbing him by the throat and crushing with both hands, one with the other end of the chain wrapped around the palm. He had six wings, obscuring his details, but they couldn’t hide the droplets that trickled down from between the hoard of feathers. Lucifer felt the tears land upon his own cheeks, as if they were his own.
