Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

Deep in the Rocky Mountains, west of Kansas, bordering Colorado.

This place has no name; on the map, it is just a large blank space representing an uninhabited area. The peaks are steep, covered with snow that never melts and dark gray exposed rock layers.

The valley was deep and dense, filled with a dense coniferous forest that was permeated with the damp smell of humus and the stench of some wild animal.

The air was thin and cold, and the wind howled through the jagged rocks, creating an endless lament.

Hidden at the bottom of a secluded valley surrounded by cliffs on three sides and accessible only by a narrow mountain pass lies a long-forgotten abandoned mine that once mined some non-precious metal.

The entrance to the cave is concealed by cleverly disguised vines and fallen rocks. The interior meanders deep into the mountainside, cold, damp, and dark, with only occasional glimmers of light seeping through the cracks and some luminous moss on the cave walls providing negligible illumination.

This is the third, and currently the safest, hiding place that Gadriel and his sixty-seven followers have found since their fall to Earth.

In a relatively dry and spacious hall deep inside the cave, the campfire is the only source of heat and the main source of light.

What was burning was not firewood, but pine resin blocks collected from the nearby forest and simply blessed with holy light, which crackled and produced a smoke with a strange, sweet smell.

The firelight flickered, casting huge, distorted shadows on the rough rock face.

Gadriel sat on a relatively flat stone. His once magnificent and exquisite angel armor was now tattered and covered with mud and dark blue dried bloodstains.

His wings were severed at the base, leaving only two charred, blackened scars that were sealed off by burning. Every unintentional movement would aggravate the wounds, bringing a continuous stinging pain.

His face appeared unusually thin and pale in the firelight, his eye sockets were sunken, and his once wise and gentle pale golden eyes now only showed weariness, confusion and a kind of calm that he was trying hard to maintain.

On the ground in front of him, a simple map was laid out with pebbles, roughly outlining the terrain near the Rocky Mountains and known human settlements and monster activity areas.

“We can’t go to the ranger station thirty miles to the east,” whispered an angel named Elisa, whose left wing was reduced to a small stump wrapped in torn clothing. “Last time Simir and his group went to fetch water, they were almost spotted by a group of hikers. It seems that human cell phone signals have partially recovered, and they’re taking pictures everywhere.”

“There are wolves in the valley to the north, a lot of them, and… they’re not quite normal,” another angel with fresh burns on his face said hoarsely. “They’re not like ordinary wild animals; their eyes glow red at night, they move in an organized manner, and some of our people saw them dragging away a brown bear.”

"Now that our power has vanished, it will take some time to recover."

“Our food reserves are only enough for five days,” reported the young angel in charge of supplies, who looked like a human boy, his voice filled with anxiety. “And it’s all wild fruit, grass roots, and the occasional fish we catch. Our bodies… need energy, pure energy, otherwise our weakness will worsen.”

A somber silence enveloped the small circle of campfire.

It has been less than 24 hours since I fell to Earth, but every minute felt like a year.

With only a fraction of his strength remaining, his injuries causing unbearable pain, his connection to Heaven completely severed, and he must evade the pursuit of the Bartholomew's faction, who seem particularly keen on hunting down their own kind to obtain the remaining blessings.

There is also the increasingly frequent exploration by human technology.

Survival has become the most realistic and cruelest problem.

"Where is the clue to returning to... Heaven?" a voice asked timidly; it belonged to one of the youngest angels in the group.

Gadriel paused for a moment, then shook his head. “Metatron’s spell completely sealed the passage. I can’t sense any call or opening from heaven. In my existing knowledge… there is no way to reverse the expulsion under these circumstances.”

He paused, watching the light of hope in everyone's eyes dim, and added, "But that doesn't mean it's impossible."

"Ancient texts may contain records, some forbidden knowledge, or... some ancient beings may know the methods. We need information, we need the power to search for information, and even more so... we need to survive."

live.

This most basic demand seems so difficult at this moment.

“Lord Gadriel,” Elisa looked up, her eyes filled with struggle, “shouldn’t we… consider… making contact with… other beings?”

“Other beings?” Gadriel looked at her.

“Those…non-humans who also live here.” Elisa’s voice was even lower. “Vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters…and those…humans who are enemies of the Witcher Guild. They are familiar with this land, they have their own way of life, they have resources, and they have intelligence networks.”

"Perhaps...we can switch."

"To ally with dark creatures?!" An older angel immediately objected, his voice sharp with agitation. "We are angels. Even if we fall, we..."

“What are we?” Elisa interrupted him, her tone unusually sharp and bitter. “Look at us now, with broken wings, hiding in rat holes, surviving on wild fruits, even avoiding a group of ordinary humans with cameras. The Bartholomews are hunting us, humans are terrified of us, and the Witchers probably won’t go easy on us either!”

"So, can pride keep us alive? Can it help us find our way home?"

The older angel opened his mouth, but could not refute it, and lowered his head in dejection.

As Gadriel listened to their argument, his fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of the tattered armor on his knee.

Contact with dark creatures... This goes against the most basic doctrines of angels, but Elisa is right: doctrines cannot satisfy hunger, cannot keep you warm, and cannot ward off pursuers.

"What can we exchange?" Gadriel finally spoke, his voice calm, yet drawing the attention of all the angels. "Besides this broken body and my pitifully meager strength."

“Knowledge,” Elisa said immediately, “about Heaven, about certain ancient legends, about the nature of energy… even a tiny bit of it could be priceless to those dark creatures who crave power or immortality, and… our senses.” She pointed to her eyes, “Even with our power weakened, our perception of the Holy Light, of evil, of certain energies remains sharper than that of most beings.”

“We can provide early warnings, or… help them evade the Witcher’s pursuit.”

“Or provide some shelter,” the young angel in charge of supplies added in a low voice. “Not real protection of holy light, we can’t do that… but it could be some blessed items, or instructions on how to use certain places with faint holy properties… to avoid what they fear.”

They used the knowledge of angels and their remaining divine qualities to exchange for the protection and resources of dark creatures.

This is nothing short of an irony and a betrayal of all their past beliefs.

But no one around the campfire objected vehemently anymore.

The pressure to survive crushed his pride. (End of Chapter)