The priestess's question hung unanswered as Metatron's power reached critical mass.

Through the command building's broken windows, they could see the formation blazing like captured starlight. Twelve circles of five hundred angels, all channeling through their commander. The air itself was burning, reality warping under pressure that shouldn't exist on Earth's surface.

"We have maybe two minutes," Gabriel said, her voice tight. "Once he releases that much power in a focused beam, everything ...