Then, mid-laugh, mid-revision, that was when she felt the heat and light begin. The laughter died as quickly as it came, her lips moving as if to speak but no words appearing. In the briefest of seconds when she realized what was happening, before the onslaught caught her full-on, she gathered every centimeter of shadow she could, to form even the slightest of barriers against the light, knowing she couldn't outrun it. She figured she would survive it without the added protection, but she hated to think of what all that light and sun would do to her photosensitive skin and she knew no matter what that this would hurt. Despite all her resistance to pain, she still was not very fond of it. The terrible fiery downpour of heat and light sheared away her shadowy defenses in the first couple minutes, though she constantly pulled what little shadow she herself cast to fight against the conflagration. Partway through the attack that seemed to be far longer than it truly was, she worked her wings to pull herself from the ground and hover there, just a little more than a foot off the cement. The ground beneath her was no longer quite a solid substance and was beginning to blister her already scarred feet. When she began hovering, she no longer truly had any shadow to pull from and had to fight to find any to manipulate to keep her barrier even partly intact.
Finally, the wild heat died down and the light ebbed enough for her to open her eyes again. She felt the skin of her eyelids crack as she opened them, and the resulting wince made the rest of her face feel like it was going to crack off as well. She'd had sunburns before, she remembered as her hovered there, her black wings beating lazily against the heat rolling off the ground, but this was all of them combined and multiplied by a power of two or three. She saw that the feathers of her wings were charred soot-black and every wing beat stirred off ashy feathers to float away in the thermal currents. She brushed a hand down her side and felt the last remnants of her skirt flake off into the air currents, leaving her just about completely unclothed. She still wore some charred remnants of her underwear, but who knows how long it would last if she had to fight the angels still hanging about? She looked down at the after-effects of the angel's attack, nonplussed at the lack of clothes. What did else would one expect with that amount of heat and fire, after all? She imagined it to be rather like standing at ground zero, especially considering the effects to everything. She realized her head felt a lot lighter than it used to and ran a careful hand through her hair, feeling several sections of hair break as she tugged her fingers through it. All the light had bleached her hair back down to its natural color and the fire-heat had damaged her hair, leaving only three to four inches of her hair spiking and frizzing out in all directions. That pissed her off just a touch, considering she'd finally gotten her hair to a color and style she liked, but she quashed the instinctual reaction to lay out the angel responsible for it right then and there. Not to say the angel wouldn't pay for what he'd done, oh, but he would pay for sure, just not right then. She felt the wind whip up and the remnants of her hair stand on end with the sudden lightning storm, and saw that another angel was trying to make havoc. She ignored him for the time being, despite the fact she was the obvious target, hovering there in the middle of things as she was, still assessing things. The ground, despite the wind doing its part to speedily cool the molten mess, was still too hot to land on. Staring at the glassy earth, that was when she noticed what was missing from the scene.
The remains of Eve. The fire had completely ashed or melted what little Sammael had left of her body. Uncaring of every little ache and pain caused by Uriel's flame, her wings beat powerfully, taking her higher into the sky, pulling a roiling mass of shadows across the ground below. To look at it was disconcerting and potentially dizzying, the shadows moving in no feasible pattern and growing larger the longer she hovered there. A shower of purple glitter-sparkles fell heavily from Mephistopheles' clenched fists, eventually being swallowed up by the mass of shadow below. Snapping her head up to look at Uriel and Barakiel, her eyes black on black sparking with the same purple showering from her fists, her very form darkening with concentrated shadow, a spatter of lightning silhouetting her furious form. When she spoke, it was in a barely controlled growl.
"You... will regret your actions, angel."
I went for the worst-case scenario effect on purpose. Why? Because it painted a much prettier picture. Though, if my charcter's the only one wandering around with all this heat-damage and no one else is, I may reconsider.