The Seraphic System
Chapter: 124
(The Chakra Fruit)
The Titaness stared back at me.
I had to admit I was surprised.
I couldn't say that I had expected to receive a prayer from her of all beings, and even then, the
The chances of that prayer going unheard had been high.
While I didn't ignore the prayer system, the simple truth was I couldn't constantly monitor it. Thousands of prayers were coming in each second, with a multitude of circumstances.
Tracking them all was difficult, but for some reason, the heavenly system had decided to inform me of this particular prayer, once more showing its ability to think about priorities, as it had done with Annabeth.
The quick response time was more out of surprise and curiosity about why the Titaness was in a small church, of all places, so close to the Vatican, and further praying to me of all beings.
The church we had found ourselves in was modest and mostly empty. The wooden seats sat in straight rows with no one inside or nearby besides the smiling priest outside.
Thin light came through the small windows and made dust float in the air. A faint smell of old candles and polished wood hung in the quiet space.
It felt comfortable.
The classic large cross hung before us, with a small amount of power radiating from its frame.
The Titaness' eyes moved from me to Gabriel, looking woefully taken off guard. I watched the recognition hit her in real time. The slight widening of her eyes. The way her posture shifted from relaxed to rigid in a fraction of a second.
"I can't say I expected you to be here." I began, filling the mildly awkward silence.
Leto took that cue, a polite smile adorning her face and her hands coming to her side.
"I apologise for this call, I didn't mean to disturb you," Leto said, her voice slightly measured. "I wasn't even sure such a method would work, odd it is that a Greek reaches out in such a manner."
"I can't say I was expecting you to be the Greek that reached out first," I responded honestly. "It's only been a few days, but I would have thought the Olympians would be eager after their father nearly revived himself. I'm guessing you're not here as some envoy."
Her lips twitched.
That came as a slight probe.
How did she know to pray to me?
Had she figured it out?
Gabriel was assessing the same thing as she stared at the woman blankly.
"No, I'm afraid there is no reality where the Olympians would send me on such a task," Leto said with amusement, then that amusement dimmed. "I came here alone. I hope your Lord wasn't offended by my call. I merely did not know how to access the channels that heaven uses."
"He's not bothered. It's not exactly rude for you to come here and merely make a request." I replied lightly. "It's good to see you again under better circumstances as well, doubly so if it's not involving any Greek business."
Leto's face twitched, a hint of shame flickering through her before it became sealed off.
She looked down at her clasped hands. The concealment around her glimmered, the golden hair muted to brown and her divine aura hidden beneath layers of concealment. But up close, with my sight, the disguise was paper-thin.
She was quiet for a moment too long.
"I came to apologise," the Titaness announced.
I could practically feel Gabriel's confusion.
"Apologise?" I asked.
"And to thank you." She corrected herself, then frowned as if dissatisfied with the order. "No, the thanks should come first. I came to thank you and to apologise for not doing so sooner."
I looked at the Arch-Seraph nearby. Gabriel returned a questioning look, before a hint of realisation adorned her, followed by a surprised smile.
"Thank me for what?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"For saving my daughter." The words came out faster than she probably intended. "For a great many things. Coming to Othrys when you had no obligation to. For your brother's assistance in fighting Atlas and that vile creature. For putting yourself between a hundred-headed Dragon and my family, while I didn't spare you a second thought."
Well, when she put it like that…
"I left you there. For that, I apologise. My daughter was in danger, and I moved, and I didn't think about the man who was the reason I could move at all." She clasped them tighter. "I have been alive for a very long time, and I can count on one hand the number of times I have had assistance. Rejecting that is not in my nature."
I genuinely didn't know what to say.
"I understand," I said. "I would have done the same for Gabriel. You still helped with Kronos, and Ladon was dealt with in the end. That's what matters."
Perhaps my answer would have been different directly after that whole ordeal, but with the few days that had passed and the many benefits that had come from it, I found myself hard-pressed to generate that amount of annoyance.
A notification briefly materialised, my divine shard gaining a tick of progress.
"I still feel the need," Leto said with a sigh. "While I know it's unusual, coming around someone willing to help and truly just not expect anything in turn is a rare happenstance."
I scratched the back of my head.
"In that case," I said. "I accept your thanks, and I appreciate it. I can't say fighting the king of titans had been on my agenda."
Gabriel sent me a look at that.
"I am glad." The Titaness smiled. "This matter has been troubling me. It only occurred after I was left well and truly alone while Olympus went into an uproar."
"The Greeks let you be?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Indeed, my daughter took most of the attention," Leto replied passively. "A fact I am most grateful for, considering the circumstances. Your arrival and that of his have made the Olympians rather displeased."
"I can imagine why," I admitted. "It would probably be on the level of Lucifer somehow being revived for us."
Maybe a tier lower.
"Your ability to simplify such statements is admirable." Leto smiled.
"I've been told," I smirked, feeling Gabriel's gaze on the side of my face. I didn't need to look at her to know her expression. "Multiple times. By multiple people."
"Please don't encourage him." Gabriel sighed.
I wasn't that bad.
Leto appeared to come to a realisation from the statement. "Forgive me, I only now realised we never officially introduced ourselves. I am Leto, daughter of Coeus and Phoebe."
"I'm Kai." I introduced myself somewhat awkwardly. "And this is Gabriel, Archangel and messenger of god…"
The Titaness raised an eyebrow.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and especially under better conditions."
"Truly." Leto smiled weakly. "His assistance was a blessing. But I felt embarrassed when I realised I could not answer any questions about you."
"Many meet Kai in a similar manner."
"In fairness." I began. "I would have brought a lot more backup with me, had I known the former king of the Greek Pantheon was attempting to resurrect himself through the body of a host."
I had known he was out there to a degree… maybe I should have known it was him, especially since it hadn't been forgotten that he had technically destroyed the path to Olympus on the original quest.
If that energy signature matching his was to be believed. It made sense if he was trying to cause chaos before he attacked Olympus… he hadn't recognised me when we had fought, though.
"Mm." Gabriel's reply came, her tone flat.
"On the subject, would it be rude to ask why you came?" Leto asked, her eyes pinned on me. "An Angel coming to the rescue of a Greek goddess is quite the tale."
I shrugged. "I could say I am technically a friend of Olympus, though that would be a lie; I was mostly looking to disrupt whatever plan they had."
"I don't understand." She frowned. "I thought you didn't know about such a plot…"
"We didn't, we just knew something was happening, and we latched onto the quest to save your daughter." I clarified.
"Yet, instead of retreating and preparing a proper attack, you risked the time to help us," Leto replied.
"We intended to help anyway, but figured retrieving you wouldn't allow for hostages," I explained. "Beyond that, coming in and just leaving both of you wouldn't have been a good move."
My answer made her smile widen.
"Perhaps…" Leto said, with a slight pause. "I confess I possessed a means of escape. Yet the overwhelming power displayed by both of them, together with the intervention of that mysterious being who fought, Michael, I believe, made it clear that my plan would have unravelled almost instantly."
The way she said Michael made me frown slightly.
There was a focus in that statement.
"Does your daughter feel the same?" I asked, curious.
Leto's expression changed. The polite excitement drained from her face, and something awkward took its place.
"My daughter is... proud," Leto approached carefully. "Make no mistake, she will remember what was done for her."
"Sounds complicated."
My dry retort made the Titaness bite her lip.
"…She does not interact well with male gods. Or male anything, truthfully. What happened at Othrys was difficult for her in ways that go beyond the physical." Leto attempted to defend.
"I understand," I replied, not really bothered by it. "I guess that 'man-hating' side of her detested the situation."
"It's more than that." Leto's voice softened. "My daughter has spent her entire existence proving that she needs nothing from anyone. Especially not from a man. To have been saved by one, even indirectly, sits poorly with her, and she is not nearly as bad as the rumours portray."
"I see your point. Truthfully, I went through something similar. So I'm not bothered by it. I didn't expect any gratification after all." I replied reassuringly.
Thank the heavens I didn't have to deal with that.
Leto smiled again, and this time it was warmer. "Even so, she knows the truth of what happened. She needs time to reconcile it with the image she has built of herself."
I understood that.
"She'll have all the time in the world."
If I could help it.
"Though she's probably going to be in contact with me again if the Olympians decide to contact Heaven."
"That would appear to be the case," Leto replied blankly. "As is customary, given the circumstances, I believe my daughter has managed to paint a better picture. So the Greeks aren't able to push forward in an aggressive manner without looking bad, my daughter's way of repaying you, even if she will not admit it."
"They would truly try to push Heaven after we provided help?" Gabriel asked, emerald eyes blinking with confusion.
Another thing I had noticed about Gabriel.
In some ways, she was naive. Not completely, but the disparity was sometimes confusing. Basic things like greed and not repaying kindness felt beyond her. Yet, she possessed that darkness she hid from Michael, and most of her siblings proved she was not naive at all. Thankfully, a lot of that darkness had faded.
But I knew she understood more than she showed.
Then, something as basic as the Greeks wanting to take advantage of an opportunity to push Heaven for their own gain seemed lost on her. Perhaps it was my life as a human.
Leto looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite parse. "Kindness without expectation is something we are not accustomed to in the Greek Pantheon."
The words came out weak, and she looked away.
"In any case," Leto continued, straightening her posture. "This was not my only reason to visit."
She released a breath. "If you would accept, I also wish to extend the offer of my blessing. Even if you are a friend of Olympus, I believe it would serve well as a boon."
I stared at her for a moment, slightly taken aback by the abrupt offer.
Having the blessing of a Titaness probably meant something. The Greeks weren't to be played around with either, even if I wasn't intimidated by them in the slightest and planned on making Heaven's unbeatable. That didn't mean allies would be bad to have.
Not with what I knew was coming.
"If you're confident, I wouldn't reject such an offer," I replied.
Gabriel looked surprised, as did Leto, who looked just as shocked that I had accepted.
Leto nodded. "Very well."
Then my body tensed, eyes slipping towards Gabriel at the divine power I felt erupt from her.
Gabriel stared back curiously.
What was happening?
Leto's divine power surged forward, and the only reason I didn't attack was that I felt an odd trust for the woman, and secondly, Gabriel hadn't moved from where she stood.
Perk gained.
[Leto's favour]
The favour and blessing provided by the Titaness of motherhood.
[You have gained 5+ Physique]
My eyes caught the notification instantly.
Leto's divine power wrapped around me. Warmth prickled through my body as her power condensed into an imprint inside me. A surge of power followed. The boost felt much stronger than the five stat points she had granted me. It felt strong enough to turn a low-class being into a weak high-class one.
That all led to the realisation that she had been offering a blessing, quite literally.
A part of her power.
The Titaness in question stared.
"It's been a long time since someone has received a blessing," Leto stated softly. "I hope your Lord won't take offence. I merely felt the need with your selflessness."
Was she trying to give me an ego?
"He won't," I stated. "Especially not as such a gift, are you sure about this? We've only just met despite everything. Sacrificing a portion of your power like this would only return if I died."
"I'm aware," Leto replied. "I plan to fix that. If you allow it, I would like to meet you again under better circumstances." She glanced at Gabriel, then back at me. A hint of nervousness showed on her face. "Both of you."
"We would welcome that." Her voice was warm.
Leto bowed her head slightly. "Thank you, Lady Gabriel."
"Just Gabriel is fine." My Archangel smiled brightly.
We spoke for a while longer.
Eventually, the Titaness left, vanishing with a subtle flicker of golden light that the mortal priest would mistake for a trick of the candles if he happened to glance this way.
The church was quiet again.
Gabriel and I stood in the candlelit space, her hand still in mine.
"I like her," Gabriel commented brightly.
I turned to look at her.
She was watching the spot where Leto had been standing with a thoughtful expression. Her emerald eyes caught the candlelight, making them look almost luminous.
"Really?"
"She came here with no intent to gain." Gabriel tilted her head. "That blessing ploy was certainly unexpected, though."
"You're telling me," I replied. "I never thought I'd be blessed by a Titan."
Namara had blessed me, if the divine inheritance could be counted as a blessing.
"Mm, rare is it one receives the 'honour' that usually comes with its own problems," Gabriel responded. "I can sense she was sincere, how peculiar."
"Is that why you want us to see her again?"
"That and I know you desire to," Gabriel replied smoothly. "Gaining friends outside of heaven, however hesitant I may be, is a beneficial move."
I considered her words.
She smiled at me, her golden hair falling over one shoulder. "Besides, I have good judgment."
"I mean, you left Heaven to search for me. That led to us getting together. So I agree." I replied confidently, my chest puffed out after the statement.
Her cheeks flushed.
Even after everything, the smallest compliments still caught her off guard. It was one of my favourite things about her.
I looked around the small church.
The statue of Christ gazed down at us from above the altar. Candles burned in neat rows. Through the open door, I could see the warm light of a Roman afternoon spilling across cobblestones.
We remained in a comfortable silence for a moment.
"So… you're accepting blessings?" Gabriel asked innocently.
I could already see the approach.
"I never rejected them in the first place," I responded with a hint of amusement.
Gabriel pursed her lips. "Accept when all of my siblings offered."
"I didn't say they couldn't." I pointed out blandly. "I just said they could be better used."
By now, we were moving towards the exit.
"How so?" Gabriel asked.
"If we use them on special members of the church, we could gain a stronger subordinate out of it. Which strengthens the church and our ability to move." I explained.
"… you need to become strong as well."
Tell me about it.
"I am."
"So why won't you accept our help? You do understand that we see no better way to use it." Gabriel replied calmly.
"Again, I didn't say you couldn't, just think about it properly."
Was she jealous?
Gabriel was actively frowning at me.
"It's what I told Michael," I replied with a laugh. "It would be best if you save those blessings, especially with the cup now. We can begin the paladin system I suggested-"
Perk Gained.
[Gabriel's Favour]
Gabriel's Favour is a blessing that allows for the boosting of healing magic.
Your healing capacity is enhanced.
Perk Gained.
[Gabriel's Chosen]
The highest angelic blessing, you are Gabriel's chosen.
You have gained 10 magic and 10 Physique; all holy power and water-related abilities are largely amplified.
My words found themselves caught in my throat at the notification. A second later, the feeling of angelic power swirled and touched me, passing comfortably and gathering into a point.
The mass of holy power quickly condensed, forming a brief ray of light and illuminating the area. I felt the massive imprint that came to protect me.
Then, it died down, leaving only the increase in my magical capacity and strength.
"…"
The first blessing was powerful on its own, but the second one was, too. Had she really given me a minor and major blessing? If I remembered Raphael's words correctly, the second blessing Gabriel had bestowed could only be performed once every few hundred years.
It was the highest form of angelic blessing, akin to choosing a champion.
I stared at Gabriel.
A blessing was a complicated process. To put it simply, it was temporarily sacrificing a part of your power for a function and safely imprinting a bit of your soul.
If any of my Seraphs attempted this, they would struggle. On the other hand, an Arch-Seraph could perform something truly monstrous. I could feel it now. The sea of power.
To put this all plainly.
She had permanently sacrificed a part of her power.
Gabriel pulled me into a soft kiss.
"If I knew it was more of a suggestion, I would have done this a long time ago," Gabriel admitted, smirking at my baffled expression. "I also couldn't risk you changing your mind."
I couldn't argue with that or at all, really, with the way her hands had come to play with my hair.
I had only stopped them because I wanted to use them better. That blessing could have made a Seraph-class follower of the church, even further, in fact, if chosen correctly.
But… the thought of Gabriel blessing someone else oddly annoyed me.
Eh.
It wasn't like I didn't want it at the end of the day.
"If that's your wish."
"It is." Gabriel nodded, all too happy.
I spied a glance at her for a moment.
A wave of guilt hit me.
My fists clenched.
Was it weird? I felt like I needed to give her more. While I wasn't self-conscious, Gabriel was amazing in every sense of the word… she had been the main part of my healing. The fact that she had somehow made the first move was bizarre enough.
She'd probably get angry if she realised where my thoughts were heading.
I looked around briefly.
We were near Rome.
The Vatican was a short distance away.
Perhaps there was a way to make more of this trip, even if I probably should be focusing on Heaven. I did say I would do this.
An idea formed.
"Gabriel," I spoke up.
"Yes?" Gabriel returned curiously.
"Would you like to go on a date with me?" I offered casually.
She stilled, a slight widening of her eyes as her breath caught, her fingers going stiff around mine.
"A... what?" Gabriel hesitated.
For a being who had existed longer than most civilisations, she somehow managed to look like a teenager who had just been asked to the prom.
"It wouldn't be anything long, since we need to get back, but would you like to go on a date with me?" I offered. "I figure since we are in Rome. The weather looks nice. I can't think of a better opportunity."
She stared at me, the small amount of heat that had started on her cheeks spread rapidly to her ears and the bridge of her nose.
"But your soul…" Gabriel weakly offered.
I flatly stared. "It's fine."
"If it wasn't, I doubt Azrael would have let me do it over the course of sessions." I pointed out, then sighed. "If you don't wish to, then we can find something else to do."
"No!" She quickly replied. "It's just… I'm underdressed."
"What?" I asked, mildly confused.
"I... well." She looked down at herself. At the flowing white and gold robes she wore. "Do I need to dress like... humans do?"
I looked at her.
"Really?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "You look perfect. Do you realise I'm already going to have to wrap an illusion around us so that you aren't disturbed? Even then, we will draw many eyes."
That was purely because I refused to change our entire appearance.
Her face went completely red.
"Kaiel…" She pressed both hands to her cheeks as if trying to push the blush back down physically. It wasn't working.
"Okay," she said quietly. "I would love that."
Her expression shifted so fast I nearly had to outright ask her about it, as the flustered and loving face quickly morphed into that of a beaming goddess in under a second.
She grabbed my arm with both hands and practically pulled me toward the door.
"Where are we going first?" she asked, her voice bright.
"I was thinking of food." I offered.
Mostly because I didn't quite know what she would like… or well, I knew she would like everything, which made it a bit awkward.
"Food!" She repeated the word, as I had just proposed the single greatest idea in history. "Yes. I've wanted to try the local cuisines for so long. Raphael told me about something called gelato."
"Then gelato it is."
We stepped out of the church, then promptly formed an angelic teleportation circle that transported us into Rome itself. The street was narrow, lined with old stone buildings and punctuated by the occasional terrace cafe.
A few locals walked past, both women and men goggling at Gabriel, who, with the concealment, had managed to appear simply as a very tall, very beautiful woman with unusual eyes.
I led her down the street toward the centre of the city. Gabriel walked close, her arm linked through mine, her head turning to take in everything with excitement.
It was three streets from the one we had arrived in that we found a gelato shop. A tiny storefront with a glass counter displaying more flavours than I could count.
The man behind the counter looked up to greet us, saw Gabriel, and whatever he had been about to say died somewhere between his brain and his mouth. He recovered after a few seconds and managed a smile that was trying very hard to be professional.
Gabriel leaned over the counter and examined every flavour.
It was odd.
I began trying to remember the last time I did something so mundane. Perhaps when I had met Percy's mother? She hadn't known it, but that moment was when I had just sat down and drank some coffee.
Could this even be considered normal by my standards?
We sat on a bench facing a small piazza. An old fountain bubbled in the centre, surrounded by pigeons that scattered whenever someone walked too close.
The late afternoon sun was warm on our skin.
Heaven could wait a bit.
-{Pope Hadrian}-
The evening walk had become more of a habit.
It wasn't by choice, but it had done well in allowing him a chance to think.
As well as to please his very devout-based physician, who had been rather insistent after the blood pressure scare last spring, the Vatican gardens were the only option for a man whose schedule rarely let him step beyond the walls.
What his physician had not prescribed was the two hundred and fourteen elite exorcists who flanked him in a formation tight enough to make even the most paranoid of beings relax.
They wore civilian clothing at his request. Slacks. Button-down shirts, with sensible, ordinary-looking shoes. The idea had been to make the evening stroll feel less like a march to show the Vatican's power.
He couldn't say it quite worked; alas, he respected the effort for his comfort.
Two hundred men and women in business casual, walking rigidly with keen eyes and spacing around an older man in white robes who wanted nothing more than to smell the roses. He imagined the sight from above was absurd.
"Your Holiness, the perimeter is secure." A man said dutifully.
The Pope smiled. "Matteo, my child, we are inside the Vatican."
"Standard procedure, Your Holiness."
Pope Hadrian sighed through his nose and kept walking.
The gardens were at their best this time of day: low sun, warm air, the hedgerows casting long shadows across the gravel paths.
The flowerbeds had become something extraordinary since Lady Frieren's arrival. Blooms that had no business surviving in the Roman climate grew thick and bright along the southern wall, their colours almost aggressive in their vividness.
The Pope had been most thrilled to have the strange girl down here. That had been the case with most of the holy order, and it was one of the few people his assembly of guards didn't tense at.
You couldn't know when they had been chosen by the highest power there is.
The elf had done that.
His life had taken a turn.
Pope Hadrian was sixty-seven years old.
He couldn't quite say he had been prepared for most of Rome becoming devout.
His thoughts stopped as the power sank to the lowest level, but to him, who had spoken to the Lord directly, it felt like a tsunami.
He stopped beside a rose bush. White petals, tinged pink at the edges.
The cross around his neck moved.
He straightened and looked down.
The silver cross was a gift from his predecessor. It was simple and plain. He had worn it every day for twelve years, and yet, he knew it was an incredible power.
It twitched again.
Then it rose off his chest. The chain pulled tight against the back of his neck. The metal was warm, and it was getting warmer. It strained southeast toward the city walls and toward Rome.
The same way it had acted when he had descended.
Then it began to glow.
White and gold, the light spilt through his fingers when he grabbed it. It cast sharp lines across the garden path, and the warmth from the metal spread from his palm up through his wrist.
He knew this feeling.
"He's here," Hadrian declared ", The Lord is in Rome."
The effect was immediate.
Every exorcist in the garden heard it.
Then the pope watched the amusing sight that followed as almost two hundred highly trained exorcists, seemingly forgetting their spacing, turned toward him, their faces ranging from pale shock to something that looked dangerously close to frenzied worship.
It was safe to say the lord's actions and confirmation of himself had sparked quite the increase in devotion.
"Get up." Hadrian waved his free hand.
He pulled down on the twitch of his lips.
What could he say? Seeing such devotion in such young people felt good.
Nobody moved.
"Matteo."
The head exorcist was still standing, though the grip on his blessed blade had turned his knuckles white. His eyes were wide and fixed on the glowing cross.
"Matteo, may I trouble you by finding a car?" The Pope asked.
"Your Holiness, you want to..."
"He is in my city, Matteo." The pope replied calmly. "While I dare not peek upon whatever important endeavour the Lord sets in motion, being nearby surely couldn't be dwelt upon in a negative light."
The scramble that followed was the least dignified event in the Vatican since the incident with the pigeons at the Easter Mass three years prior.
Two hundred exorcists trying simultaneously to pray, organise a motorcade, and stop themselves from falling apart was a sight that Hadrian suspected would be whispered about in these halls for decades.
Hadrian did not open the car door.
He sat in the back of the grey Fiat and pressed the cross to his lips.
"Your Holiness?" Matteo's voice was barely a whisper. "Should we... should I try to find Him?"
Hadrian shook his head.
He would not disturb the no doubt profound actions his Lord was taking place in.
-{Nero Raimondi}-
Nero sat on his usual bench near the eastern courtyard, legs stretched out, with his arms folded behind his head.
A group of kids had taken over the grass nearby, kicking a ball between the hedgerows while a pair of young trainees watched from the shade of the old oak.
He closed his eyes and let the noise wash over him.
The bruises had mostly faded.
The cracked ribs had healed thanks to the blonde-haired girl, Asia's, blessing, though they still ached when he stretched too fast. The marks on his wrists where the chains had burned into his skin were the last visible reminder.
Three weeks in a container would do that to you.
Nero leaned his head back against the bench and let himself think about it. Not because he wanted to, but because his mind kept circling back, whether he liked it or not.
It had started with his name.
That was the stupid part.
Names were apparently a very special part of what made the beings known as Gods. It was a universal concept. Names had power. Names had connections. And his name belonged to someone else first.
Emperor Nero.
A Roman tyrant who had burned Christians alive to light his gardens. That was at least what he had come to know of the man. He had been suspected of being dead for two thousand years.
The bastard hadn't felt very dead when he had nearly killed him. A minor god. A being so evil had somehow managed to become a god. The only grace that had meant to be the natural coming of death had been taken away from him.
So, apparently, whenever outside certain barriers. Every time someone said Nero's name, the Emperor heard it.
Every time a child at the Vatican had shouted "Nero! Come play!" Every time a priest greeted him in the halls. He had to wonder, had he taken notice of him?
He must have said those words a thousand times.
It was no wonder things had turned out the way they did. Here he was, a Christian boy. Wearing his name and happily desiring to serve the Vatican one day.
Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised... no, that was idiotic. He hadn't even known of the tyrant, and most of all, he was still just a kid, even if it had made him much less naive.
The Emperor had made sure of that.
Nero remembered the first time the container doors had opened, and it wasn't a guard standing there. It was a man dressed in Roman finery that looked freshly tailored despite being a style two millennia out of fashion. He had a thin face and eyes that looked through people rather than at them, like they were furniture he was deciding whether to keep.
He had smiled when he saw Nero.
"So this is the little Christian rat that stole my name."
Nero hadn't known what to say to that. He had been chained to the wall of a shipping container for three days at that point, wrists raw and throat dry, and the man standing in front of him radiated a pressure that made his bones ache.
The Emperor talked a lot. That was the thing Nero remembered most clearly. Not the pain or the fear, but the talking. The man loved the sound of his own voice in a way that went beyond arrogance into something genuinely pathological.
He talked about his Triumvirate, three deified Roman figures who had pooled their resources into an operation that spanned continents. Smuggling routes for weapons, monsters, and cursed artefacts. Slave markets that moved human cargo across
borders using dimensional pockets and corrupted ley lines. He talked about it the way a business person would talk about quarterly earnings, proud and detailed, clearly expecting to be impressed.
"You should be grateful," the Emperor had told him during one visit, inspecting his fingernails like a man waiting for dinner. "Most of the children I collect don't last this long. The ones from the churches are always the most entertaining. So much faith. So much conviction. It makes the breaking more satisfying."
Nero had learned then that he wasn't the first.
The Emperor had a particular hatred for the Church. That much was obvious. Christians had turned his name into a synonym for cruelty, and he had apparently taken that personally enough to spend centuries targeting them. Kids plucked from parishes and orphanages across Europe, tested for Sacred Gears or useful bloodlines, and discarded if they came up empty.
"The real Nero," the Emperor had said once, leaning close enough that Nero could smell wine on his breath, "would have had you crucified by now. Upside down, the way your precious Saint Peter went. Would you like me to show you how it was done? I was there for that one."
Nero hadn't answered and hadn't begged and hadn't cried, at least not while the Emperor could see.
The man had tried other approaches after the threats stopped working. Speeches about the futility of faith. About how the God they worshipped was dead, and the angels were too weak to protect anyone. About how the supernatural world ran on power and power alone, and Nero's prayers were going to an empty room.
He had wanted Nero to agree. That was the strange part. Not just to break but to actually come around to his way of thinking. Like it mattered that some thirteen-year-old boy from the Vatican's outer parishes validated his worldview.
Nero never did.
Not because he was brave. He had been terrified every single moment. But the alternative was agreeing with the man who had burned his people alive for entertainment, and something in Nero's chest had simply refused. A stubbornness that sat deeper than courage and deeper than logic. It just wouldn't bend.
That was around the time the light started.
A warmth in his chest that hadn't been there before. Faint at first, barely noticeable against the constant burn of the enchanted chains. It grew slowly over the days that followed, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. The chains had reacted to it, tightening, the suppression magic working harder than it should have needed to for a kid with no known abilities.
The Emperor had noticed. His visits became more frequent after that. More clinical. Fewer speeches and more observation, like Nero had become a specimen rather than a target.
"Interesting," the Emperor had muttered during one examination, running a finger along the chains and frowning at the resistance they were meeting. "You have something in you, boy. Something dormant."
A Sacred Gear. Nero hadn't known what that meant at the time.
The container started moving more after that. The Emperor's interest had apparently outweighed his pride, because the route changed. Where they were taking him, Nero didn't know. He had overheard the guards arguing about it once. Something about a buyer. Someone who paid well for Sacred Gear holders, especially unawakened ones.
Then the Labyrinth.
That had been the worst part. The container had been moved underground through a passage that reeked of old stone and something animal. The walls shifted around them, the floor tilting at angles that made no physical sense. Whatever this place was, it was alive in a way that made the hairs on his arms stand up.
Still, he hadn't wasted time in praying. A great many times and with increasing devotion. Perhaps it was a fool's errand for someone so unimportant like him. That hadn't stopped him.
At some point, he hadn't begun expecting anything to happen. It had more been about the source of strength it provided, knowing at the very least that his prayers were going somewhere.
Apparently, they hadn't gone quite as silent as he had expected.
The rescue was still a blur. He didn't have the full picture even now. What he knew was this. A powerful Angel's group had been nearby on a separate mission entirely. The Labyrinth had a way of bringing together things that shouldn't meet, and on that particular day, it had brought Nero's container into the path of beings who could do something about it.
What he did know was that one moment he had been in the dark with chains burning his wrists.
The next moment, the container's wall had been torn open. The light that came in was not sunlight. It was something else. Something warm and clean that made the chains on his wrists hiss and loosen.
That had led to the Angel known as Kai.
Nero couldn't deny, angels were really cool...
It wasn't an appropriate thought, but seeing their existence, his belief felt almost rewarded.
He did not remember much after that.
Fragments as memories had become from the stress of it all. He knew he had been pulled from the container. The blonde man pressed his palm to the ground and grew a copy of himself from the stone, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. The clone had taken Nero by the arm while the real one turned back toward the fighting.
Then they were moving. The clone led him through passages that twisted and writhed around them, the Labyrinth's walls trying to reform and redirect. Golden fire still bit into the stone where the entrance had been blown open, the maze struggling against it.
Which had led them out through a gateway that had been sealed shut behind them with a barrier that hummed with power. The clone had looked at the sealed entrance for a moment, as if confirming it would hold, before guiding Nero onward.
After that, an even more titanic battle that had sent shivers down his spine had transpired somewhere above and behind them. He had felt the ground shake and seen light split the sky in colours that shouldn't have existed.
Then it was over, and the clone had quietly told him to leave quickly. For good reason, as another presence had appeared. Amid the chaos, they had slipped away and eventually found a nearby church.
And now he was here.
The Vatican.
The kids who kicked the ball in the gardens.
The smell of bread from the kitchens mixed with the flowers the elf woman had grown along the southern wall.
Nero still could not think about it without his throat tightening.
A high-ranking priest, Vasco Strada, had been the first to visit him after Asia finished healing the worst of it.
The older man was impossible to miss.
Two metres tall and built like he had been carved from the same stone as the Vatican itself, with white hair and a face full of scars and wrinkles that somehow made him look more alive rather than less.
He had sat down on the edge of Nero's bed without asking, which had made the frame creak dangerously, and waited. Nero had expected questions.
An interrogation, even. Instead, the older man had reached into his vestments and produced a small paper bag.
"Biscotti," Strada had said. "From the kitchen. Sister Margherita makes them on Thursdays."
They had sat there for twenty minutes eating biscotti in silence before Strada spoke again.
"I was told of what you experienced." He said, his voice kind. "You experienced something you shouldn't have and even still, you managed to not only survive but aided in a very dangerous situation."
Nero blinked. "You know about that?"
"Your actions weren't unnoticed." Vasco provided with a chuckle. "You knew not of it, but you aided drastically in a manner involving the Angels."
"I was just doing what an exorcist should do." Nero replied dutifully.
"An exorcist in training." Vasco smiled. "You've only been in basic training."
Nero blushed.
He remembered the words he had said.
How couldn't he?
He had felt it and seen it.
Those were Angels.
Real Angels.
"I did what every Exorcist would do. Perhaps the title isn't mine but I've been working for it."
He was a child.
That meant his training had been light compared to true exorcist training. That didn't matter to him though.
Strada's massive hand had settled on his shoulder with a gentleness that seemed physically impossible for someone his size. "That is not a small thing, child. Many grown men have broken under less."
He stood up.
"Quite frankly your act has been spoken amongst many of your seniors." Vasco chuckled. "How rare is it for us to get a chance to busy ourselves in true angelic matters. Even I can't say I have done enough."
Nero glanced away.
"Make no mistake, child. You have done the title proud. Even if you haven't finished your training, you are without a doubt, one of us." Vasco said, his voice calm and warm. Then a playful smile crossed his face. "I do believe your training will be more of a formality now that it is known, expect many of the divisions to try to recruit you."
Nero had barely stopped the tears from rising.
After that, Strada had come by every few days. Never with an agenda.
Sometimes with food, sometimes with stories from his youth that were clearly exaggerated but entertaining enough that Nero forgot to be haunted for an hour.
The older man had a way of filling a room with calm just by being there, as if his presence alone was a barrier against anything that might try to hurt the people around him.
Dulio was the other one. Heaven's Saint. Also, possibly the laziest person Nero had ever met.
He had introduced himself by wandering into Nero's recovery room with a plate of cannoli he had apparently stolen from a bakery in Naples on his way back from a mission.
"I heard you had a rough time," Dulio had said, dropping into a chair and offering the plate. "Want one? They're still warm."
Nero had taken one because it felt stranger not to.
Dulio visited less regularly than Strada but with a casualness that made every interaction feel easy.
He never asked about the kidnapping. Never brought up the Emperor or the Triumvirate or the chains. He just showed up, ate whatever food he had acquired from his latest detour, and talked about nothing in particular until Nero realised he had been laughing without meaning to.
Between the two of them, Nero had started to feel like the Vatican was his again.
A ball rolled into his shin.
"Nero! Throw it back!"
He opened his eyes. The girl with the dark curly hair stood a few feet away, both hands on her hips, chin tilted up.
He picked up the ball and tossed it gently.
"Nero, come play! Please?"
His name rang off the garden walls.
He had considered changing it.
The thought had lasted about ten seconds.
That wouldn't do any good.
He stood from the bench.
"One game," he said. "Then I'm going to go bother Dulio."
"Two games!"
"One and a half."
She considered this. "Deal."
He just guessed he would have to find a way to become strong enough.
-{Kai}-
We arrived back in Heaven a few hours later.
Gabriel walked beside me through the golden corridors of the Sixth Heaven, her hand loosely intertwined with mine.
That had been a nice change.
She hadn't been down to Rome properly in a long time, and while Angels had a way of remote viewing, it wasn't quite the same, since it relied on watching believers as they prayed.
So we hadn't done much walking around and enjoying the sights.
"What are your plans now?" Gabriel asked, her eyes bright. "You intended to do something with Iroh and the twelve Angels within the sub-dimension."
She paused. "Or is it eighteen Angels…"
Yeah, I should really find a better title. My Seraphs and Arch-Seraphs had taken to following my lead in the naming sense, and I just felt like that was the easiest way to refer to them.
I had summoned another batch of Angels.
That left Heaven with eighteen low-ultimate class angels, or better yet, Seraph-class Angels… Michael had made me realise I was using the devil's way of ranking… that was purely due to my knowledge of this world, which was skewed beyond anything by now.
"You know, you're going to have to begin letting them into the first Heaven." Gabriel chimed. "My siblings are already ravenous, and I'm not sure why you're so worried about it. They would be smothered in love."
"It's not that…" I replied. "I'm just hesitant, I know how much it means to everyone."
"They'd been very happy." She suggested gently. "I know a great many of my siblings were sad when they realised they had missed talking to them during the recent attack."
I couldn't have that.
"I'll see to it."
Gabriel beamed, and I had to look away.
"Anyway, I was planning on heading to the sub-dimension to see if any of them were around." I smiled. "I want to test Iroh's ability to grant elemental bending. He's grown enough for it."
"A distraction I'm glad to have got lost in," Gabriel commented with satisfaction. "And I do think 'enough' when comparing Iroh's growth is quite an understatement."
"He's not that big yet."
"Galadriel now spends her days wrapped around his neck." Gabriel pointed out. "He's already somehow grown so large, with no signs of slowing down."
"I'll have to think of making him some sort of space when he grows too large." I became thought. "His growth has been explosive."
She nodded and fell into step beside me without complaint, which told me she was in a good mood. On a normal day, she would have nudged me toward resting.
Today, she seemed content to be near me.
The doorway to the sub-dimension shimmered as we pressed through together, the air shifting from Heaven's warmth to the unique warmth of the large, legendary trees.
It didn't take long for the sight of Iroh to come into view.
The spirit lion turtle has grown truly large, the turtle shell on his back innocent eyes.
Most of all, Galadriel lay curled around the Spirit Turtle's neck, opening an eye at our arrival and almost falling off Iroh's neck in the process as she quickly assumed a more regal position.
"Having fun?" I questioned.
My familiar looked away, her scales glimmering in the light as she pretended to inspect the large trees above.
Gabriel giggled at the display, while I felt the presence of my Angels quickly approach.
Curiously, I felt only four presences.
"Father!" Zakiel's voice called. His appearance was followed by Aurel, Rashiel and Danel close behind.
The four angels stared at me with excitement.
"There you are." I looked them over. "I was starting to think you'd all disappeared on me."
"We were with Tiamat," Rashiel said.
"Yeah?" I asked, glimpsing the slowly approaching Dragoness. "So you've continued your training with her? I know she's been rather busy."
"We have!" Danel chimed in. "But we've also been going down to the Vatican with sister Sariel."
I paused. "Since when?"
"A few weeks," Naciel added before I could say anything else.
"How has the Vatican reacted to that?" Gabriel asked. "I know they don't host many of my siblings at the current date, but I hope they treated you well."
They all became slightly awkward. "We actually haven't been going as Angels; we are helping brother Metatron with his work. So we keep a low profile. Avael and the others are down there right now."
At that moment, Tiamat finally arrived, strangely subdued. She offered me a small smile. "Kai."
"Tiamat." I greeted her. "It's good to see you."
While I'd last seen her before I left, she had noticeably not been as present as she had been before.
"It's good to see you as well," Tiamat replied, still almost absentminded, then her eyes shone with concern. "I heard you got in a big fight, not quite the stealthy mission that was advertised."
"Yeah, I know," I responded bashfully, watching Gabriel, who had begun talking to the excited Angels. "Though I'm not the only one who's been busy, it would seem."
Tiamat frowned. "I apologise for my absence."
"There's no need for that." I held my hand up. "Is everything okay?
Tiamat looked away.
"Is it to do with the devils?" I asked.
"No." Tiamat shook her head. "It isn't a matter that puts me in danger. It is more to do with my past and something I am looking into… if you truly wish to know, I'd prefer we spoke alone."
I appraised her for a moment.
"That can be done easily enough. When do you want to talk about it?" I asked.
If anything, her response had made it a lot more serious.
"Tomorrow." Tiamat decided.
"That works," I responded, not putting pressure on her. "I'll come meet you here."
Tiamat nodded hesitantly, saying nothing more on the subject as we watched Gabriel and my Angels interact.
"Iroh," I called.
The Spirit lion-turtle slowly turned.
"Are you ready to try it?"
My familiar made no sound, the only sign of acknowledgement being the perching of his long legs as he pushed himself up from the pond of water he resided in.
Galadriel smoothly moved, scaling up to a thick branch while Iroh approached me.
I placed my hand on his shell.
A warm tidal wave of energy met my skin.
{Name: Iroh.}
{Race: Spirit Lion Turtle.}
{Power Level: 15,000}
His power had grown explosively.
Iroh probably could have done this much sooner, but I had wanted him to get adjusted first.
Now was the proper time, though.
Elemental bending shouldn't be overlooked.
"Zakiel. Aurel, Rashiel, Danel." I called.
The assembled Angels perked up.
Gabriel watched with interest.
"As you know, you've all struggled to use anything beyond the skill-set you were born with," I announced, looking over them. "Hopefully, this test will be able to change that. Are you prepared?"
"Yes, Father."
The next ten minutes were spent explaining what Iroh would do, which, by the end, had Gabriel asking more questions than the bunch of them.
"Does it work as a blessing?" Gabriel questioned.
"Again, Gabriel, I'm not sure," I responded with amusement.
"Is it safe?" She chewed her lip.
"I'm confident in Iroh," I replied without concern.
The system would let me know about any downsides.
"I can go first if you want?"
"No." She denied.
"You do realise I'm confident it's safe?" I replied flatly. "I wouldn't let any of my Angels even touch if I wasn't sure."
"I know." Gabriel smiled.
I rolled my eyes, then turned to my Angels, who all watched with almost childlike curiosity.
"Who wants to go first?"
They all raised their hands, earning a small laugh from Gabriel as they almost tried to outdo each other.
This had to be some angelic gene, being able to act so innocent and mature in an instant.
Naciel was chosen first, stepping towards the large turtle, which had grown to the size of a small house.
Iroh's large eyes glanced towards me.
I nodded, my soul sense expanding.
His arm moved, lifting and revealing multiple large claws. Naciel blinked up as a massive claw came to tap his chest barely. Galadriel stared down keenly, and for a moment, we all watched.
Then a small ball of white blinked in and out of reality for a second, followed by a raging sphere of energy that blasted out. Naciel's head whipped back.
I carefully inspected Naciel's soul.
Seven points lit up on the ball of light that was Naciel's formed soul. Each one lit up with a blue glow, Naciel's eyes shone with pure white, and a second of silence followed the seventh point lighting up.
Then Naciel's hands whipped out, and massive streams of fire exploded.
Aurel and Rashiel quickly moved back, dodging the wild bolt of fire that lashed out. While Tiamat swatted her hand boredly, diverting the blast of fire with ease.
Naciel's wings flared, then a breath escaped him.
He raised his hand.
The seven points on his soul faded.
"How do you feel?"
Naciel perked up. "I feel warm."
He looked down at his hands, turning them over slowly. Small licks of flame danced across his knuckles before fading. His expression was somewhere between disbelief and a grin that was fighting to take over his entire face.
"Fire?" Gabriel questioned, her eyes rapidly taking him in. Then she stepped forward. "He's in perfect health… I see no damage or need for concern. How absurd."
She looked back at me. "Kai, I don't think I need to mention how valuable this is… if Naciel can truly bend an element, that puts it above basic elemental spells. That would be coveted amongst most factions."
"I'm aware," I replied with a frown, before focusing back on Naciel. "Can you try to produce fire?"
Would Iroh need to teach him?
"I think so." He said. "I can feel something foreign running through my body,"
He clenched his fist, and sparks flew.
He began playing around with the flames for a few minutes before he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, then the fire responded with sparkles of gathering embers, condensing into a wild, uncontrolled mess that formed into a ribbon amongst his fingers.
His fists clenched, and the flame exploded out in an arc that swept the ground, burning the grass into ash and shooting towards me. Tiamat gave an unimpressed look beside me, flicking away the flame.
Naciel winced. "S-sorry Father, controlling the fire is proving harder than it looks."
The fire was impressive, with streaks of gold as it materialised. It was stronger than I expected, and those golden streaks almost felt hotter than the fire itself. The glow of the fire made me look up towards the large golden tree.
I was almost sure this was an effect of Telperion.
Was it unfair that Uriel's flames made these look so unimpressive in my eyes? Still, my Angels had finally gotten access to more than the spells they had been brought here with.
While the set of spells they had were no doubt strong spells and unique, they were limited by the cost they had come with. Barely able as they were to learn other magic.
"I want to go next!" Danel exclaimed.
Each one went through the same process, gaining the ability to bend fire. Tiamat watched Danel's first attempt with her arms crossed.
"What do you think?" I asked as we watched them try it.
"It's coming to them naturally." Tiamat replied, with an impressed look. "Give them a proper martial form to channel it through and it'll become the backbone of how they fight."
"A martial art?" I questioned.
"I believe that would work best, the fire becomes stronger and more controlled with movement," Tiamat observed critically. "The fire itself is impressive; those golden lines would do a lot more damage than the fire itself. How unique."
"I think that's the influence of Telperion," I commented, earning myself a nod. "Iroh has been bathing in its waters and Galadriel has shown that she can harness its powers."
"That would make sense." Tiamat nodded. "The lines feel more like condensed spiritual energy."
She paused. "If the fire itself was purely made of this condensed spiritual energy, it may have come to rival my own."
"That's high praise."
Tiamat could probably fight people at the level of a chief god. Those flames were dangerous and concealed a concept, making them at least on par with divine fire.
Rashiel jabbed her finger out, and a wave of fire blew out. "It doesn't feel as taxing as using magic."
"That may be because you're a natural." Tiamat ruffled her hair.
Danel sent a look of indignation.
All my Angels practised, while I took a seat with Gabriel and watched.
I spent an hour with my Angels,
Perhaps granting myself the ability to bend would be worth it.
I'd wait until my soul was healed fully. I could see the usage in bending, especially with my divine inheritance from Namara. I'd be able to use the wind to combine them.
With the elemental testing done and Naciel's group still experimenting with their fire, I turned my attention to something else I had been meaning to check on.
The chakra fruit.
"I'm going to look at the fruit," I told Gabriel.
She nodded.
The chakra seed had been a concern from the start.
Its entire growth method was absorption.
It quite literally drank vitality from its environment to develop into a complete chakra fruit, which sounded fine in theory right up until you remembered I had planted the thing in a sub-dimension powered by two legendary divine trees.
The potential for it to drain the entire space dry had been real enough that I had put a containment array around it the day I planted it.
A kill switch, basically. If the seed started draining amounts that couldn't be handled, the array would sever the connection and isolate it before any damage could be done.
That had been the plan.
What actually transpired was different.
The seed had grown.
Not into a standalone tree, as I expected, but into something connected directly to Telperion and Laurelin. Two titanic roots, one from each tree, had extended across the ground and burrowed into the soil around the seed.
They met at the base and merged, forming a third growth that rose from the junction like a sapling fed by two rivers. The sapling itself was modest in size compared to the Two Trees.
A thin trunk, pale bark, branches that spread no wider than my arms. But sitting in the crook of its highest branch was a fruit the size of my head, radiating a pressure that made my skin tingle from ten feet away.
I stopped and looked at it.
The containment array around the base was still intact, but it had never activated and honestly, even if it did, I doubted it would be able to.
The Two Trees had apparently decided to feed the thing themselves. Thick veins of spiritual energy ran from the roots into the sapling's trunk, pushing forward waves of life energy into the fruit that matched the glow of Telperion and Laurelin's leaves.
They were nurturing it, which was a bizarre thought except when you acknowledged that these two trees were basically half-conscious. I shook my head fondly and placed my hand against the sapling's bark.
The wood was warm, and the energy running through it was a blend I hadn't encountered before. Chakra and spiritual energy, close to the same but not quite. They were woven together so tightly I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
I shook my head once more.
Every time I thought I understood what they were capable of, they did something that rewrote my expectations. First, the sub-dimension expanded. Then the blessing effects on everyone who entered.
Now this.
Adopting a foreign seed and pouring their own essence into it, like concerned parents. It felt like something went against what they should. The chakra fruit was a parasite in that manner after all.
A fruit that could destroy an entire planet.
How trees had only been classed as legendary was beyond me.
"What are you thinking?" Gabriel asked from beside me, her eyes on the fruit. "The chakra fruit is taking well. I would have thought Telperion and Laurelin would be less pleased…"
"It almost looks like they adopted it." I mused. "As for what I'm thinking about, I'm wondering what to do with it; now it's not going to tear apart the sub-dimension."
"Do you plan on eating it?" Gabriel asked with a hint of hesitation. "The sheer amount of energy residing in it alone is cause for concern; that isn't broaching the subject of its passive ability to drain so much life force."
She would be right if it hadn't come from my system…
"I'll have Raphael take a deeper look into it, and I'm not going just to pluck it off the branch randomly; you'll be with me for it," I reassured her.
Unfortunately, my habit of doing things alone had made Gabriel worry about me, even if I didn't do it much anymore.
Gabriel looked relieved at that.
"Besides, I doubt Telperion and Laurelin would allow for that, though; they've also had their own effect on the fruit." I patted the warm bark.
She nodded with a small smile.
Then we both perked up at the sense of a new arrival.
Michael came through the barrier fast enough to crack the air behind him.
"Father," Michael called, his voice tense and immediately putting me on edge.
Michael's face was fierce, eyes blazing, and a serious frown set on his lips. He wore his full golden armour, crackles of holy energy travelling through them as if to emulate his agitation.
Gabriel tensed beside me. "Brother?"
While Tiamat wasn't slow to follow.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
Michael pursed his lips. "Heaven has been breached."
A sharp wave of shock passed through me. Akin to the beginning of the last battle that had happened on the doorstep to Heaven. That shock was quickly followed by a deathly wave of seriousness that ruined the calm I had been enjoying.
The four Angels playing around with their new fire bending stopped, taking us in with worry.
"Do we know who it is?" I asked seriously.
"We do." Michael grimaced. "It would appear my brother Azazel, the leader of the Fallen faction, is standing outside the gates."
His explanation felt directed at me.
A nasty feeling piled in my stomach.
Did that mean Heaven was being attacked again?
"Is he with anyone?" I asked, my voice devoid of anything.
Gabriel's shock broke and my words almost made her flinch.
Michael's grimace deepened. "We haven't sensed anyone else with him, but it's needless to say, my siblings are half a second away from attacking."
The Fallen were attacking Heaven? Why? We hadn't done anything… much.
"Kaiel?" Gabriel spoke up, a deep pain residing in her voice.
"Take me to him," I ordered.
-{Azazel}-
The mirror realm was as interesting and unpleasant as he remembered.
At least in his time as a fallen.
Azazel stepped through the fractured space between worlds with a grimace, his twelve black wings folded tight against his back as reality bent and twisted around him.
Light scattered in directions that shouldn't have been possible, and the ground shifted between solid and liquid with no warning.
Azazel allowed a pleasant smile to spread over his face, a cover for the darker thoughts he felt on the inside.
Coming in peace was always a sound method. In the world of supernatural politics, where everyone operated under layers of suspicion, walking up to your enemy's front door with your hands visible was as much a power move as it was an olive branch.
It said I am not afraid of you, and I trust you enough to be vulnerable. It worked on politicians, on diplomats, on every faction leader who played the game of influence and careful words.
It didn't work on dragons and evil gods, who would simply kill you.
But Heaven wasn't run by dragons.
The holy power in the atmosphere stung against his skin, a constant low burn that prickled along every surface and made his fallen wings ache at the joints.
He pressed forward.
Truthfully, finding a path into Heaven was hard enough on its own.
The mirror dimension was designed to be navigated only by those who knew its secrets, and his knowledge was centuries out of date.
Passages that had been open during his time as an angel were sealed now, rerouted or collapsed entirely. He had to feel his way through, relying on instincts sharpened by millennia of survival.
Heaven was as hard to enter as you would expect.
The layered defences, the shifting pathways, the holy energy that grew denser the deeper you went. Only Lucifer had ever managed a true assault, and even that had cost the Morning Star a lot more than he had to offer.
While his many girlfriends had called him a mule in the sheets, the rumours that the Grigori was made of half his spawn was wrong. It was more like one percent if he was to boast.
The mirror realm thinned around him as he neared the boundary. Reality steadied. The ground solidified. Holy power surged in a wave that made his wings flare involuntarily, and his jaw clench.
He pushed through and felt the full weight of Heaven settle over him.
The gateway opened and he stepped through into Heaven for the first time in so long.
Nostalgia overran him.
Simpler times he missed.
Then he paused.
Something was off.
It was faint beneath the tide of holy energy, but his senses were sharp enough to catch it. Divine power, not angelic. And beneath that, the lingering tang of blood, old but recent enough to leave a trace.
Had someone tried to invade Heaven?
That's what it felt like
His mind whirled through the possibilities right up until the wave of signatures hit him, and every other thought fell away.
Thousands.
Angelic signature in the thousands flared up. Stacked in a density he hadn't felt since before the war, each presence was a point of light that burned against his fallen awareness. Heaven was full in a way that should have been impossible without Father's ability to create new angels.
He almost felt shy standing there, a lone Fallen in a sea of restored holy power. The thought was absurd enough to earn a quiet laugh from himself, standing in the gateway to Heaven with his twelve black wings folded and his hands at his sides.
How awkward.
His image flickered as holy fire lashed across his form. Uriel practically exploded out of the gates.
The Seraph erupted in a burst of golden flame that split the air, leaving heat trails hanging in the atmosphere behind him. His armour was immaculate. His expression was carved from stone.
The weapon in his hand already burned with a fire that made Azazel's skin prickle from thirty feet away.
Azazel's smile turned nervous.
Uriel was stronger than he remembered. Or better put,
Uriel felt like he used to feel. Back during the old days, when the Seraphim were at full power and challenging one of them was something only Lucifer had been insane enough to attempt.
The diminished Uriel of the Cold War, weakened by Father's absence, was gone.
"It's to see you as well, Brother," Azazel said, keeping his voice light. "You feel well."
"Much less could be said about you, Azazel." Uriel's tone was flat and devoid of warmth. "Your light truly has dimmed."
"Well, that's not very nice." Azazel put a hand over his heart. "I'll have you know my modelling agent says my smile brightens her day."
"I imagine many of your victims feel the same." Uriel commented coldly.
"Whoa, victims?" He chuckled, though his eyes were working overtime on Uriel's face. "I'll have you know it's all charm. You should try it sometime."
"A charm that no doubt grows weary of being heard, judging by your inability to hold a relationship," Uriel replied with a boredom that was almost impressive in its delivery.
"At least I've been in one," Azazel replied with a mock serious tone.
"I've had a relationship." Uriel's expression didn't shift. "One born of love. Not lust, of course."
Azazel's brow twitched.
"Why are you here?" Uriel continued, the banter evaporating. "I will warn you now. If you intend to break the Cold War, Heaven will not back down."
The statement carried weight behind it.
"Hey, hey." Azazel raised both hands. "I come in peace. Can't you see the white flag?"
"I see it. But I needn't remind you of what you attempted the last time you came for a visit." Uriel didn't move his eyes away from his.
"Different times, brother." The words came out more awkward than intended.
"So again, I ask, what are you doing here?" Uriel said, fire entering his tone.
"I came to talk." Azazel began, his voice dulling into a serious tone. "I mean peace Brother."
"About?" Uriel ignored it.
"Don't play coy. Heaven hasn't been subtle..."
He stopped.
The presence hit him, pressing against his chest and flooding his senses until everything else was background noise, two signatures approaching from within the gates.
One was Michael, and even that alone would have been enough to make most beings in existence reconsider their life choices. The Sword of Heaven, the strongest angel alive, a being who had thrown Lucifer out of the sky with his own hands.
His eldest brother, the child who used to bravely proclaim his desire to sit on Father's lap.
But the other one.
The other one made Azazel's knees nearly buckle.
It wasn't angelic. It was divine. The real thing.
The authority that sat above everything else.
Father.
His face went serious. The playful mask dropped entirely.
"So he's back," Azazel said, barely above a whisper.
Uriel's weapon was in his hand, and the flames along its edge doubled.
Azazel kept his hands raised.
Then his gaze shifted past Uriel, and whatever colour remained in his face drained away.
"A-Azrael?!"
She stood behind Uriel without a sound. Pitch black hair fell behind her in waves, with silver eyes that gave away nothing, and a presence that made his soul shake.
The Angel of Death.
His sister.
The one they had all written off.
She stared at him passively.
This was bad.
How was Azrael alive?
She had been missing for so long that even the most optimistic among the Fallen had stopped hoping. If she were here, standing behind Uriel with that empty expression, then everything Azazel thought he knew about the balance of power was wrong.
Even Azrael alone would have forced him to re-evaluate the situation entirely. Combined with a restored Uriel, Michael approaching from within, and the thousands of angels he could feel pressing against his senses from every direction, the Fallen were looking at a reality that went well past unfavourable.
Then the figure stepped through the gates.
He didn't look like Father.
The face was young, blonde-haired, with bright eyes that swept over Azazel with a calm assessment that felt uncomfortably familiar. The body was different.
The appearance was different. But the presence was identical, that power pressing down on everything around it with an authority that couldn't be faked or imitated.
His broken bond pulsed with a dull hurt.
A new form.
Father had returned in a way that Azazel hadn't anticipated, but the power was the same. There was no mistaking it.
Azazel grinned, and this time the emotion behind it was genuine. Relief and terror and something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a very long time, all of it crashing together in his chest.
"Father!" He said, a mask of pure lies overtaking him. "It's good to see you in good health."
His words could be barely heard from himself.
The young man stared at him.
Azazel fought the lightheaded feeling that was making his vision swim.
The holy energy of Heaven pressing against his fallen nature, the shock of confirmation, the presence of Azrael, who should have been dead, all of it combining into a cocktail that was making it very hard to think straight.
Surely Father would at least give him room to speak. He had come in peace. He had information to offer. He had...
"Bag him."
The world went dark.
-{Tiamat}-
Tiamat watched Kai with a frown.
She didn't want to drag him into her problems.
The thought had been there for a while, and he was reminded of what had transpired with Ishtar.
That goddess was nothing, a nuisance borrowing power she didn't deserve, but Ishtar hadn't come from nowhere. She came from a pantheon that reminded her of everything that had been taken, and by whom.
Marduk.
She didn't think about it often. She hadn't needed to. The memories were old enough to sit at the bottom of her mind without moving, and she preferred them there.
But they were still there.
She had been the primordial sea.
The mother of the first gods.
The one who had protected them all when Apsu wanted them dead.
And when those same children turned around and murdered her consort, when they celebrated on his corpse, when she finally let the grief turn to rage and demanded justice for it...
They called her the monster.
Marduk split her body in two.
Made the sky from one half and the earth from the other. Most had taken that as a bold statement of the world itself, while those in the divine realm knew the importance.
Conceptual seals of power.
He hadn't killed her, mostly because she would have reformed, and that would have been the end of that.
So instead, he had chosen the smarter option. He broke her essence into fragments that drifted through dimensions and settled into forms she never chose.
One of those fragments became a dragon.
That was her, this version.
The Chaos Karma Dragon King, the strongest of the Five.
All of it was built on a piece of what she once was. A shard of something vast crammed into a body that could ward off those two idiot Heavenly Dragons and make gods think twice, but was still just a fraction.
She could have sought revenge. That was why she had been able to send away this particular fragment after all. But a broken heart had made her content, in a twist of fate.
That had been how it was for thousands of years.
The story of how she had fallen became muddled. The once-powerful pantheon she had created fell into obscurity and splintered. So she had made her peace with it. A new life as a powerful dragon, while the world of the divine weakened around her. She became allies with the devils because it was convenient and carved out a kingdom of her own in the familiar forest.
Then she had met Kai, and that slow crawl of time had sped up. The threats had begun piling up, and Kai was no longer just an Angel. He had somehow become the King of Heaven.
That had complicated everything.
Especially when they attacked.
The truth of the matter was simple. She had been invited to the Khaos Brigade a while ago. Furthermore, she had intended to join and would have most definitely done so had Kai not distracted her.
The Ouroboros Dragon itself had appeared in Tiamat's territory without warning, speaking words that nearly undid centuries of carefully maintained indifference. She knew what Tiamat was. Knew about the fragments. And she could help find them.
Tiamat had almost joined on the spot.
How could she not? A promise like that. The chance to be whole again after so long, she had forgotten what whole felt like. The Brigade's goals meant nothing to her.
That desire had only become stronger when Kai had been merely an Angel with no connection to Heaven.
A mate was the strongest motivation a dragon could have, and if she was going to stand beside him, she refused to do it as a fragment. The need for power that she had buried came roaring back to the surface the moment she recognised what he was to her.
Now, that had all been put to a halt.
The admittedly strong organisation wouldn't be able to help her, and in turn, she needed more power to go against them.
The main issue was still at hand.
Tiamat had begun searching for the two seals by herself, in the old Mesopotamian world.
The once guarded realm was in tatters, leaving her halfway between solemnity and nostalgia. Unfortunately, all she had to show for her intense search was time away, which had been noticed.
A thought that was both warming and concerning.
She supposed it couldn't be helped.
Tiamat wasn't against telling Kai about her problems; she wasn't embarrassed or shy. That wasn't in her nature. Her nature was to deal with problems herself.
Perhaps sharing her problems wouldn't hurt.
After it, if she assumed her true form, it would be hard not to notice the change.
Her original form.
The Primordial Tiamat.
-END-
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