Gestalt:- Army of Light
Celestia during the Exile.
One Light, One Hope
The Seven Heavens were once radiant, unstained and unstainable. The traitor Deva changed all of that. There had been fallen angels before him, but none wounded Heaven so. He brought with him all the fury of Baator against us. Billions of Devils, watched over by Auroran skyships. They boiled through the gate towns, staining them so with the blood of angel and martyr that several of them collapsed out of heaven and into hell before the battles were over. Only one gate town held, in large part due to adventurers arriving to petition Daeriel for her blessing. Through this last gate, Deva and Archon returned in fury to Lunia. Asura reinforcements scorched the sky in their eagerness.
But against all of hell, they were frighteningly outmatched. Heaven had sat in her pride for eons, while the forces of hell had strengthened themselves eternally in their Blood War. Again and again, heaven’s forces were outmatched. With the stoic strength of heaven, the Celestials retreated. The Last Gate was lost, although the adventurers holding it figured out how to turn it into a gigantic explosive even as it collapsed through the planes to the first layer of hell. It took a year, but Hell controlled all of Lunia. The approaches to the Celestial Mountain were sealed. The amorphous mass of hell’s petitioners blocked every ascent, and it was only due to continuing sacrifice that the tide was held at the fortresses guarding the ascent into the second heaven.
Angels despaired. And then Malachii detonated his Planar Bomb. Every Angel that could have returned to heaven had done so, from the mightiest Solar to the almost mortal Monadic and Movanic. Heaven’s army was sealed away. But odd as it seemed, this saved Heaven. Without their reinforcements, and with all heaven finally awoken against them, Hell’s forces were slowly – so very slowly – ground to dust.
It took hundreds of thousands of years, but Heaven was reclaimed. It took the sacrifice of Paragons, Gods, and Angels. And Lunia would never be the same again. Patched with the tainted, abrasive ground of hell, the Silver Heaven no longer gleamed. Its cities, once pure white, were irredeemably reddened and blotched with the blood of their defenders, and the uncounted tortured dead sacrificed in them. Even long after the devils had been driven out, those garrisoned in the cities could feel a cold, evil presence in the strange, twisted alleys, and none but the strongest travelled the streets alone. The Silver Sea ran black and coarse with the eternally rotting bodies of the aquatics that had lived there. Worse, hundreds of miles of the layer simply were not present anymore. The greatest fortresses and armories of heaven had been lost, collapsed into hell during the opening years of the war.
Heaven still stood. But she was surrounded by the gangrenous wound that hell had driven deep into her.