Heaven had grown quiet.
Not the sacred, harmonious quiet of creation. This was a tense stillness—a silence that hummed with what was not being said.
Gabriel felt it in the air, in the glances exchanged between the Host, in the way the light in the High Halls dimmed ever so slightly, like Heaven itself was holding its breath.
Samael's name had not yet been spoken aloud.
But everyone could feel it.
Something was about to break.
---
Gabriel found Michael first.
The eldest stood at the edge of the Firmament, watching over a nebula birthing new stars. His armor glowed faintly, his wings folded behind him like drawn curtains.
Gabriel landed beside him.
"Michael," he said, already breathless from more than flight.
Michael didn't look at him. "You've come about Samael."
"You know?"
"Of course I know."
Gabriel stepped in front of him, blocking his view. "Then do something."
Michael blinked slowly. "And what would you have me do? He questions Father's will."
"He's not rebelling," Gabriel said. "He's hurting. He feels betrayed."
Michael's gaze didn't soften. "His feelings do not justify defiance."
"Michael, listen to me—this doesn't have to end the way we know it will. You've seen it. Felt it. That tension in the Host? That crack forming between loyalty and pride? This is the moment we change it."
Michael said nothing.
So Gabriel pushed harder.
"You love him," he said. "We all do. But if we don't reach for him now, if we don't fight for him, we'll lose him forever."
At that, Michael turned sharply.
"You presume that I have not already tried."
Gabriel froze.
"I spoke to him," Michael continued. "He would not bend. He believes his path is righteous."
"And you let him walk it alone?"
Michael's eyes narrowed. "I obey. That is what we were made to do."
Gabriel's voice dropped. "And that's why he's leaving."
---
Next, Gabriel sought out Raphael.
He found him meditating within a sphere of pure light—no form, no sound, just thought.
Gabriel entered quietly.
"I need your help," he said. "Please."
Raphael's form shifted into something visible, wings folded in silent grace. He did not speak, but waited.
"Samael is going to fall," Gabriel said, voice shaking. "I can feel it. And if he does, everything after becomes a disaster—wars, seals, death, chaos… I've seen it. Somehow, I know. If we act now, together, we can stop it."
Still, Raphael said nothing.
"You're the one who sees the structure," Gabriel pleaded. "You understand balance. If he falls, nothing stays level. This whole system we're building—it shatters."
Raphael tilted his head. "Have you spoken to Father?"
"I tried," Gabriel muttered. "He said he's 'watching.' Like this is part of some divine blueprint."
He clenched his fists.
"I don't care about the blueprint anymore. I care about my brother."
At last, Raphael spoke.
"If Samael chooses this path, it must unfold. You cannot bend what has already been weighed."
Gabriel shook his head, stepping back.
"You sound just like Him."
He left before Raphael could answer.
---
He returned to the place where it all began.
The garden of stillness where Yahweh first revealed the archangels to each other.
It was empty now.
Not even light moved here.
Gabriel stood in the center and whispered into the air.
"Samael… please. Come back."
No one answered.
Not even the wind.
---
Later, alone on the edge of Heaven, Gabriel watched stars die in slow collapse.
He had tried everything. Reason. Emotion. Truth.
And none of it had mattered.
He could feel it now, in his Grace—something final stirring. A command being written. A line about to be drawn.
Soon, Yahweh would speak.
And Samael would be cast out.
The story was repeating.
Just as before.
And Gabriel, once again, could do nothing but stand in the ashes.
---
But this time…
He swore to himself:
If Samael falls, I fall watching.
Not blind. Not obedient.
And if I ever get the chance… I'll break the cycle.
Even if it kills me.