The village sat down and deliberated. The disease the previous night had torn their numbers to shreds, and the game was finely poised. They discussed the issues, talked about who was most suspicious, and put forward their theories. When the votes came to be posted, Apollo was pushed to the top of the list, and, despite claiming to be a special, picked up the votes require to lynch him. And as his lifeless body hung from the gallows, the crowd below gasped, as he grew wings and floated up to heaven silently.
Apollo is DEAD. He was the muse turned angel.
There are no angels left.