The sound of metal clashing against metal fills the rain-soaked skies.
On the ground, bystanders look to the heavens, wiping away the droplets filling their eyes, trying their best to get a better view of the battle raging above their heads.
One has been forged in time & battle, the other through trial & transmogrification.
Suddenly, the skies roars and the rain above turns red, once again meeting the eyes below.
Just as suddenly, the sound of the rain is all there is.
A winged figure, quietly, hurtles to the ground below and above, there is a victor.
So, Second Printers, the question's a simply one: HAWKMAN or ARCHANGEL?