Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

Metatron's spell, like an invisible yet incredibly precise awl, pierced deeply into Castio's soul, finding that last pure flame representing his angelic essence, a blessing from God.

"what--!"

Castio let out a heart-wrenching scream that was completely inhuman.

He felt his existence being brutally dissected, the most core, precious part of his soul that defined him as the angel 'Casdio' being forcibly extracted and stripped away by an irresistible force!
That warm, pure, yet rapidly fading milky-white light was forcibly pulled from his violently trembling body and floated onto Metatron's palm.

The instant Grace left his body, Castio felt an indescribable, excruciating pain in his back, as if his bones and flesh were being crushed at the same time.

His wings, already battered and weak, crumbled and disintegrated like a weathered sand sculpture amidst a mournful howl.

It turned into countless shimmering dust particles and dissipated into the air.

The power vanished from his body like the receding tide.

Extraordinary perception becomes dulled, and the faint connection between the soul and heaven is completely severed.

The feeling of lightness was replaced by the heavy burden of the mortal body.

He was overwhelmed by a great deal of cold, pain, weakness, and an endless, hollowed-out void.

He collapsed onto the cold, dirty ground, curled up, and could only gasp for breath.

His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at his hands, which had lost their luster and become no different from those of an ordinary person.

Angel…Castio…It’s over.

Metatron looked with satisfaction at the light of grace belonging to Castio floating in his palm, then at the magnificent sight of the dark red magic circle at his feet and the pink and gold light net above his head, and finally at the abandoned body on the ground that had lost everything and was as lowly as an insect.

“Anchored by the heart of taboo.” He said loudly, his voice full of power.

"Using the arrow of love and desire as a guide."

"With this key of purity, open the gates of judgment!"

He gently pressed the light of Castio's grace onto the core node of the spell that was floating in front of him, formed by the convergence of heart energy and the light net of arrows!

"Buzz———————!!!"

An indescribable roar—a violent tremor from the very rules!
The entire abandoned church, no, the entire ground, and even the space in higher dimensions, trembled at this moment!
The eerie murals on the church walls seemed to come alive, their colors flowing wildly.

The light from the ground magic array shot into the sky, completely merging with the dome's light net, transforming into a destructive energy torrent that defied color definition and contained immense expulsive power. Centered on the church, it violently erupted upwards, toward the dimension where heaven resided!

Space was torn apart, revealing the chaotic turbulence that followed.

Metatron's figure slowly became transparent amidst this earth-shattering eruption of energy.

He glanced one last time at Castio, who was curled up on the ground, too weak to even lift his head, and a cold smile spread across his lips.

"Farewell, chess piece, enjoy your remaining mortal life."

The light engulfed his figure, as well as the lead box and the crystal bow.

The next moment, he and the two offerings vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed.

Only the torrent of energy, tearing through dimensions and soaring into the sky, continued to roar, illuminating the abandoned church as if it were daytime, and also lighting up the motionless, seemingly dead figure on the ground.

Castio's cheek pressed against the cold ground, his nostrils filled with the smell of dust and mold.

His unfocused gaze, through the broken window, fell upon the distorted sky illuminated by a torrent of energy. He could sense, or rather, his remaining spiritual sense could still detect a trace of that intense energy fluctuation emanating from the far reaches of the heavens.

That's the direction of heaven.

That's Metatron's spell, it's taking effect, it's banishing all the angels...

And he could do nothing.

He lost his wings, his power, and his grace; he was no longer an angel.

He was just Castio. A mortal lying on the cold floor of an abandoned church, penniless and unable to even move a finger...

They can't even return to heaven.

The surge of energy outside the church gradually weakened and dissipated, the night sky was once again shrouded in darkness, the wind still howled, and inside the church, only endless silence and the barely audible gasp of a broken soul remained.

Meanwhile, Dean and Sam, far away at the Witcher Guild, suddenly felt inexplicably restless, as if something was about to happen.

The sound of heaven collapsing is not something that can be heard by ordinary ears.

It was a deafening roar, like a giant beam supporting the universe, shattering everything in an instant, followed by a silent shriek.

Countless angel souls were violently ripped from heaven in the same instant, and the tearing sounds converged into a tsunami that swept over the spirits of all angels.

Metatron stood at his carefully chosen observation point, located at the very edge of paradise.

This was once a terrace where God occasionally overlooked the fruits of creation; now only broken railings and peeling gold leaf remain.

He stood with his hands behind his back, his robes fluttering wildly in the turbulent energy currents caused by the tearing. His face was expressionless, only displaying an extreme, icy calm, as if he were admiring a grand work of art that he had just completed.

What was once a paradise has now turned into a nightmare.

The pure dome of light shattered, revealing a dark background that churned and lay between nothingness and reality.

The energy flowing with hymns and the light of blessings reversed and evaporated, turning into golden ash that drifted across the sky and smelled of burnt wood.

The magnificent halls, corridors, gardens, and squares—all the angelic civilizations—collapsed and disintegrated like sandcastles under the violent onslaught of that indiscriminate expulsion spell.

The building fragments were swept up by the powerful repulsive force field and thrown in all directions, some of them being directly annihilated in the spatial turbulence.

The angels, however, were the most tragic part of this destruction.

At first, there were just points of light.

Countless white dots of light, representing the existence of angels, were like fireflies swept out of their nests by a gale, densely packed and forced to peel off and pop out from every corner and every piece of debris in heaven.

Among them were angels of the Uriel faction fighting, their swords still pointed at the enemy opposite; angels of the lower ranks, scribes or attendants, trembling in the ruins; and prisoners, bound by the chains of the law, imprisoned in the silent corridors or confessionals.
This even includes those ancient things that have long been forgotten in remote corners, like background decorations.

For example, Gadreel.

This ancient angel, who was once tasked with guarding the east gate of the Garden of Eden, was blinded by Lucifer's clever lies due to a moment of negligence, allowing the serpentine demon to enter and indirectly causing the original sin of mankind.

Already exiled, they were sealed on a perpetually snowy mountain peak at the very edge of paradise.

He believed that eternal repentance could atone for his sins. (End of Chapter)