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The battlefield raged.

Such was the clash between angel and demon. They were not simply warriors fighting for their cause, no; each of them was a force of nature given form, and their battle shook the landscape around them. Spear against claw, blade against flesh -- the air itself was rent apart with the shockwave from their clashes, little ripples in the fabric of space manifesting around them that would be invisible to all but the most gifted of seers.

Fate was changing.

Once upon a time, Imperius had fought this very same fight. He'd won. His fellow Archangels had smashed their way through the door to aid him, and together, they had captured Diablo. Imperius had allowed his rage and hatred of the Prime Evil to overwhelm him, and had torn through the demon's body in a single slash.

Time could be fragile, however. A single moment could be the nexus of many realities, and sometimes -- through a fluke of luck and just the right nudge -- all of history could change course.

Perhaps that explained why Imperius and Diablo fought with so much vigor, where before the Prime Evil had laughed with a certain confidence. He knew that he had the Archangel of Valor in his grasp. There was an anger that burned within him, a hatred that he knew he could manipulate and use to his advantage.

The anger was still there, of course. Though both Imperius and Diablo knew that something was different, neither could pinpoint exactly what the difference was. All they knew was that something about this fight was more important than ever, and that fate somehow hung in the balance.

It was at the first clash against the door that Diablo realised what had happened. He could feel the other Archangels just outside, their weapons and power out in full force -- yet for all the power they had, the door would not budge for them. He'd arranged it so that they would break in and watch Imperius strike him down in his anger, so that they would know the Archangel for his wrath rather than his valor... but for whatever reason, they could not break down the door.

That called for a change of plans.

"Your rage makes you powerful," Diablo sneered. "Yet you hide it from your brethren. Perhaps you fear them seeing you for what you truly are."

Imperius' rage boiled off of him. "I fear nothing!" he roared, dashing forward. Energy gathered within his spear, and he thrust it forward, its tip aimed straight for Diablo's heart. He had him now, he thought; he could see Diablo moving to block the thrust, but the demon wasn't fast enough. His spear would pierce the demon's flesh, and that corrupt blood would spill onto the ground.

Except at the last moment, he saw Diablo cock his head. The demon smirked, and a claw reached out with greater speed than it had any right to. They closed around Solarion's tip.

For a moment, Imperius thought he'd won. Solarion had slain uncountable demons; there was no flesh it could not cleave in two. Prime Evil or not, if Diablo thought he could catch it with a mere claw, then he had lost the fight. He gathered his strength, pushed forward even harder, and... Solarion didn't budge.

Imperius kept an impressive amount of control, though his eyes widened within his helmet. When he spoke, his voice burned with anger -- but it was calm and smoldering, rather than the explosion of fury he was tempted to let loose with. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It seems fate tips in the balance of evil," Diablo chuckled. His laughter was deep and menacing -- and though he would never admit to it, a chill of something ran up Imperius' spine. It wasn't fear, not exactly, but something deep within the Archangel was aware that something was terribly wrong. Something was happening that wasn't supposed to be happening.

Imperius retreated.

He jumped back, pulling his spear from the grasp of the abomination of evil that stood before him. Imperius' eyes glowed fiercely, but their light was tempered with concern. "What have you done, Diablo?"

"Me? I have done nothing." The demon smirked, approaching Imperius slowly. He could feel power coursing through his body -- power that he didn't have before, power that he hadn't tried to obtain. Something was interfering in the course of history... but whatever it was, it seemed to be on his side. He wasn't about to complain. "Perhaps it is you that have lost the will to fight, Imperius. Do you see some aspect of yourself in me? You call yourself the Archangel of Valor, but your rage inspires only fear in your enemies. Perhaps a part of you calls out to the Lord of Terror himself, seeking to understand your darker self, the self you have never allowed yourself to show..."

"Blasphemy." Imperius' eyes narrowed fiercely, his grip on Solarion tight. Whatever had struck him had surely only been a temporary setback; he merely needed to gather his strength, and Solarion's blade would once more pierce the flesh of even a Prime Evil.

"Truth," Diablo laughed. "Is that not one of the virtues you angels value? Or does the lie run so deep that even you believe it, Imperius?"

"You will be silent," Imperius snarled, and such was the depth of his rage that his voice trembled with his fury. Had the words been spoken to a lesser demon or to another angel, his voice itself might have cowed them to silence -- but Diablo was a Prime Evil, and the Lord of Terror. He was not so easily intimidated.

Other emotions, however, sparked within the demon. For the first time, he felt intrigue -- curiosity, even, at the darkness that might lie within this angel. He was the Archangel of Valor, true, and yet there lay so much darkness within him... His words before had been meant to probe at the Imperius' weak points, but now the angel's anger had aroused his interest.

"Such rage," Diablo said, and this time there was a note of respect in his voice. The demon chuckled softly. "Oh, how I will enjoy seeing that rage transform..."

"And what absurdity do you speak of now?" Imperius demanded. Diablo merely grinned.

"To think that I thought to use your anger against you... I see now that I was wrong, Imperius. You deserve _much_more than that. I will see you beneath me, Archangel. I will see you writhe and beg to be corrupted. That darkness you carry within you must be nurtured."

Imperius' eyes widened -- but before he could reply, before he could even launch himself at Diablo for even daring to suggest such sacrilege, the demon moved, and he moved with such speed that it was all that Imperius could do to throw himself out of the way. His wings flared behind him to halt his momentum, and he panted in a mixture of surprise and exertion.

"You will submit," Diablo snarled. The demon turned, and Imperius could see a flare of lust in his eyes. There had been arrogance and pride, before, a look he'd seen in many a demon -- but not this lust, this utter carnal desire for flesh. And to know it was his flesh specifically that Diablo desired...

Imperius didn't need to glance down to see the Diablo's form had shifted. A thick, dripping cock had emerged between the Prime Evil's legs, throbbing with clear desire. It was rare for demons to fight with themselves exposed; it presented too much of a weak spot, and for Diablo to do so meant that he either didn't consider Imperius a threat or had simply been consumed by his lusts.

Not that either possibility mattered. Imperius steeled himself, staring straight at Diablo and ignoring the desire pulsing within the Lord's eyes. "I will succeed," he answered in return. His voice was strong, steady, exactly as an Archangel of his position should be.

Then Diablo struck at him, and Solarion shattered.

Imperius didn't have time to register surprise. Diablo's infernal power should not have been strong enough to shatter the starforged metal that Solarion was composed of, and yet it had. The result was predictably disastrous -- all the energy he had stored within the weapon burst out in a massive shockwave that cracked the stone that surrounded them, and left a small crater beneath their feet.

Diablo was unaffected, save for the infuriating smirk that played on his demonic features. Sharp claws dug into the back of Imperius' armor and forced it apart.

Angels, it was said, were made of light and sound -- and for all that Diablo had heard of this, it was the first time he'd personally seen an angel stripped off his clothing, even partially. Imperius' body shimmered with light, so concentrated that it appeared almost solid, and it forced a growl of lust from Diablo's throat.

It wasn't from the sight of it alone; no, Imperius' form was mostly shapeless, with barely visible cheeks in the otherwise shapeless light. Instead, it was from the thought of corrupting that light, of bringing out the darkness within it and nurturing the Archangel's lust for vengeance into a different kind of lust.

Diablo did not hesitate. Before Imperius could struggle, cry out, or do a thing to stop him, he forced his aching cock into that formless light.

Both angel and demon cried out immediately. Imperius' yell was more a shout of surprise -- whatever he expected, it had not been for a lance of demonic energy to force itself into his being, and though he expected pain, all he felt was pleasure. Diablo's corruptive power mingled with his light, giving it the taint of shadow, and the Archangel's gauntlets clutched at the rock.

"Diablo!" he roared. "You will release me!"

"You are... hardly in the position... to make demands." His words were harsh, but the demon's voice was tempered by his pleasure. The Archangel's essence pulsed hot around his cock, and it was all he could do not to cum right then and there, to pour his own demonic powers into Imperius and corrupt him for good.

But it wouldn't do to allow himself that pleasure. Not this early in the process. He wanted to enjoy it, wanted to see Imperius slowly succumb to his baser nature. Even Archangels had their needs, if properly manipulated into it.

And Imperius could only do so much to resist. Perhaps if he had been mortal, had enjoyed such pleasures before -- but in all the millennia of his existence, Imperius had never felt anything like the rush of pleasure that flared through him. He felt the demonic taint echoing within his essence, and it felt good. It felt like worship. Though his body was a mere conduit for Diablo's pleasure, the shudders of ecstasy that passed through him were all too real. He shared in the Prime Evil's pleasure, though he rebelled at the thought.

"How does it feel... Archangel of Valor?" Diablo mocked. His cock ground hard into Imperius, and slowly, he could feel the light start to coalesce into something more solid. Muscles wrapped around his cock, tight and warm; it felt almost the same as the hole of a lesser demon. To think he was using Imperius in such a way... "How does it feel to have a Prime Evil's cock buried within your very essence... To know that a demon is using your body for his pleasure?"

"I will not endure this mockery," Imperius grunted. His voice trembled, despite his protests; angels wore their armor for a reason. To be a being of light also meant that their physical forms were also their souls -- without protection, they were easily corruptible. It was no mistake that Imperius' hole ached for more of Diablo's cock; its very presence was a manifestation of physical desire. It existed to be used, to be stretched and filled and abused, and it was all Imperius could to stop himself from giving in.

The tendrils of light that were Imperius' wings dug themselves into the ground, trying to wrench their owner away from Diablo nonetheless. "You choose the coward's way of battle!"

"I choose my way of battle," Diablo chuckled. Imperius' attempts at escape were futile; Diablo pulled Imperius' wings into place behind his back, and summoned a rope to bind the angel. The demon leaned over the Archangel, heavy, lustful breathing right next to that golden helmet. "What of it, if my chosen method brings us both pleasure?"

Demonic precum dripped into Imperius' body, absorbed quickly into his flesh -- for the Archangel was flesh, now, though his skin was a pale gray. Imperius gasped beneath him, and his hips jerked back into Diablo. It was infuriating how his body betrayed him with its need, and yet each wave of pleasure clouded his mind further. "You cannot deny how you feel, Imperius. My cock pulses with demonic energy within you, and your body craves my seed. With every passing moment, you fall further from the heavens..."

"You fool yourself, Diablo," Imperius muttered. His wings fluttered uselessly, unable to escape from their bonds -- yet the angel's struggles had died down. It was to conserve his energy, he told himself. Not because Diablo's precum made each of his thrusts slick and smooth, and filled him with undeniable lust. "When I free myself, you will burn."

"Fitting words, for a demon," Diablo laughed. "But it is my cock that is buried within you, Archangel. Perhaps it is your soul that will burn?"

He emphasized his words with a thrust -- and how the Archangel writhed beneath him! The light beneath him had solidified into flesh, a mark of Imperius' corruption at the hands of the Prime Evil, but it wasn't Imperius' skin that drew Diablo's attention. Rather, it was the angel's own shaft. It had been a mere tendril of light, barely visible beneath the angel's loincloth, but now...

Now it was a thick, obsidian cock, throbbing and leaking with precum. Imperius writhed and groaned, his fingers digging into the rock beneath him, but there was no escaping Diablo's thrusts. Perhaps he didn't want to. The demon's cock burrowed itself into his essence, and though his mind protested, his body gave in. His hole loosened itself, allowing him to be properly taken, properly marked by the demon's seed -- and his hips pushed back against every thrust of Diablo's cock, eager for him to be filled, for that corrupting energy to spill into him.

He had never felt such pleasure before. To think now he was feeling it at the hands of his worst enemy...

"No..." Imperius hissed softly. He wasn't sure if he believed his own words; his own need was throbbing between his legs, leaking onto the ground. Diablo's cock throbbed within him, and the smallest of movements from the greater demon sent a wave of pleasure through his body and forced a spurt of precum from his cock. It felt so terribly, terribly good, and though it was a sin Imperius felt himself aching to let go.

He wanted the pleasure. He wanted to be taken, to be marked by the demon he had once regarded with little more than contempt and hate. Even if he were to escape, he would always remember the feeling of being filled -- and perhaps in the darkest of nights, his fingers would wander over to the gap in his armor, and he woulf force it into himself... "I must not... give in... Your corruption will not take me!"

"I do believe my corruption has taken you already, my dear angel." Diablo pulled back just enough that Imperius could feel the loss of his cock -- and then forced himself back in, eliciting a cry of pleasure from the Archangel. His spine arched, his wings spread, his cock jerked against the ground... it was a beautiful sight. "Soon, you will be a general of my armies. You will be corrupt -- a shadow of your former self, yet so much more. You will serve me when I ask it, but the demons under your command..."

Diablo reached around with a claw, trailing it along the Archangel's cock from base to tip. Imperius jerked in his arms, gasping, and the demon smirked. "You will have them serve your every need. Does that not sound appealing. Imperius?"

"I... defy... your taint..." Imperius muttered -- but his protests were weak, and barely coherent. His cock was leaking beneath him. He would not last much longer. It was incredible. Imperius could not deny that for all his protests, Diablo was delivering sensation that he had never before experienced. It was a sensation that he knew he would crave forevermore, a sensation he would ache for... so why fight?

"For now, you do." Diablo ran a surprisingly gentle claw down the angel's helmet, and Imperius seemed to shudder, almost leaning into the touch. "But for how long, I wonder? My seed will fill you, Archangel, and you will beg for it before long."

That, it seemed, was Diablo's cue to toss all caution to the wind. The demon rocked his cock in and out of Imperius, caring for little but his own pleasure -- yet from the way the Archangel gasped beneath him, moaning and writhing and just barely stopping his fingers from teasing his own cock, Diablo knew his plan was succeeding.

"You are tight, angel..." he hissed, his voice a low growl. "Are you ready for my seed?"

Imperius uttered a moan of denial -- but Diablo ignored him. He sped up his thrusts, thick arms gripping on to the Archangel's shoulders, forcing him back against his cock. Every slam of his hips was enough to make the angel's armor rattle; spittle fell from the demon's lips, and remnants of the Prime Evil's precum dribbled down Imperius' thighs.

The pleasure built. Imperius was rocking against him, despite his verbal protests; the very tip of his wings were curled in his pleasure, and he could see the desire beginning to build within the Archangel's eyes. "Your first taste of corruption," Diablo growled -- and he forced himself in one more time.

The demon's seed came not in spurts but in torrents, mixing with the Archangel's essence. What little could not be absorbed was simply forced back out through Imperius' loosened hole, dripping into the gaps of his armor and decorating Diablo's cock with a faint sheen of his own seed.

"You... will not..." Imperius began -- but he fell silent, unable to finish his own sentence. He no longer had the will. It felt amazing, to have the demon buried within him, and he no longer wanted it to stop.

"Oh, I think I have," Diablo purred. The Prime Evil was still rock hard, still casually thrusting in and out of Imperius, and the angel had long since given up his attempts to fight back. His armor, in fact, had started to twist. There were spikes in the metal where there hadn't been before, and its hue had changed from a brilliant golden to a more tarnished shade of silver. He looked considerably more menacing.

"Beg for me to continue," Diablo demanded. He slowed his pace, his cock still halfway inside Imperius. "Beg for my seed, Archangel."

"I..."

"Beg." A thrust for emphasis, a slick, cum-stained cock sliding into Imperius' abused hole. The angel hissed -- but his cock was throbbing with need, his hole eager to be filled. He wanted more.

He broke.

"Fuck me," Imperius spoke. No longer was his voice weak, nor whimpering in protest; instead, there was a strength in his tone, albeit corrupted. His eyes glowed with lust and desire, and he pushed himself back against Diablo, groaning unashamedly at the feeling of that demonic cock sliding further into him. His own shaft pulsed, needy. "If you wish to corrupt me, Diablo, then you best be sure to do your job thoroughly. Fill me with your seed -- mark me so that I cannot walk without your cum dripping from my hole, so that my brethren can see me for the corrupted soul that I am."

"Even corrupted, you make demands." Diablo seemed amused. He began to rock in and out of the Archangel again -- and this time, Imperius met his thrusts with moans of pleasure. He saw the last remains of angelic seed spurting out of Imperius' cock as the angel shuddered in his grasp. Like him, Imperius remained hard and aching. "I should have expected no less."

A thick gauntlet wrapped around Imperius' cock. The Archangel had reached for himself, and stroked himself furiously as Diablo fucked him. Rivulets of cum dripped from his armor onto the ground, and Imperius didn't care. All he wanted was that cock inside of him. Never mind that his helmet had twisted slowly into a monstrosity, with teeth snapping where the gap in his armor had previously been. Never mind that he was now a demon, his body and armor a singular entity.

All that mattered was the cock buried within him.

If anything, the transformation had strengthened him. There was a surge of power through his body that revitalised him, made his cock spasm as precum jerked out of it. An angel's armor protected their essence from being corrupted -- but once compromised, that armor became a part of the angel.

Such was the case for Imperius. The changes meant that he could feel every inch of Diablo's muscled, powerful body as it slid against him. He could feel the warmth of the demon's skin, the heat of his breath, and the rise and fall of his chest. He could almost taste the lust that burned within the Prime Evil, and he wanted it.

"You will be the general of my armies?" Diablo questioned. His cock slid in and out of the former Archangel, nice and slow, his seed slowly trickling out and into Imperius.

"Yes." Imperius didn't hesitate. He would have done anything for more of Diablo's cock, now -- anything for the opportunity to feel the Lord of Terror buried to his hilt within him.

"You will lead them against Heaven?" Diablo's smirk was audible in the way he growled, his words echoing through the room. The other Archangels could hear this, he knew -- and Imperius did, too. Neither cared. They took a perverse pleasure in the exhibitionism, in fact.

"Yes." A keening moan, as Imperius spread his legs, cock thrusting against the rock beneath him. Even the smallest friction was bliss.

"You will kneel at my feet, worshipping my cock when I desire it?"

"Yes." Imperius hissed the final response, forcing himself back against Diablo -- and the Prime Evil could only groan as he came again, his seed spilling into the former Archangel. Imperius' eyes glowed with corruption, and his changed body seemed to do little to hinder him.

"Then you are mine, Imperius." A thick, clawed hand wrapped around Imperius' still-leaking cock, giving it a sharp tug. It was enough to make the newly christened demon gasp out in pleasure, his hips arching as a stream of corrupted seed splattered onto the ground.

"Yes, Diablo." Imperius panted. Even now, he ached to reach for his cock, to start stroking himself for that incredible, endless pleasure. "Yours."