The realm stretched beyond comprehension, it was like an image of what would be a gentle stream flowing through lush forests. In other spaces, relaxing waves lapped against pristine shores. Breathtaking vistas of mountains and valleys extended in impossible directions.
Yet, it was all captured in crystal. A strange crystal that obviously wasn't the same standard of the crystals I knew from my human life. It was beyond that and it was something that couldn't fully be described.
The crystal was solid and it wasn't.
The entire scene felt like a picture but one that I could enter at any time. The beings I saw within were seemingly moving in slow motion and couldn't seem to even perceive us.
It was trippy… and at the same time I had to wonder just what sort of being could make this? I doubted any God could make such a thing. So it had to be beyond that right?
Gabriel gently held my hand intimately, and guided me towards the crystal lands.
There was a path that cut through, the only real thing I felt I could trust to be solid. It stretched just as endlessly as the horizon and I had to wonder just how Heaven could contain something like this.
I had seen many things of beauty and wonder since being reborn. Olympus, Heaven, Eden and even the underworld's palace. This was definitely up there with them.
Despite this, what caught my attention were the individual spaces, personal heavens where souls dwelled. Some appeared as cozy homes, others as vast libraries, still others as places of activity and creation.
I felt like I could enter at any time, and I noticed the world was constantly shifting.
This was Heaven?
The place that was promised after death for a life lived well? It felt… deserving. It definitely lived up to what I had been imagining. I'm assuming the crystal was keeping them contained in some sort of false reality while Angels could watch from the outside?
I wondered just how many would become saints if they knew that this existed?
That left a question I wanted answered.
"How does this system work?" I asked Gabriel as we walked. "The souls. How do they come here?"
Gabriel gestured to the place around us. "The souls are tied to believers. They don't necessarily have to be hardcore believers, but giving any source of belief is enough. That gives them the potential to live here for as long as Heaven remains…"
"And they get judged?" I prompted, noticing her expression growing more complicated.
That had always been a thing with the Abrahamic religion, judgement. I even had a skill from God named after it.
She nodded, her pace slowing. "They do by the collector of souls, which is up to the Angel of Death."
"Angel of Death?" I frowned in confusion. "I haven't heard of such a person before."
Angel of Death? That felt like someone who would be an Arch-Seraphs for sure and certainly powerful if they are roaming around in the supernatural world.
So why didn't I know of her?
Gabriel turned to face me, her eyes reflecting something ancient and sad. "She is widely thought to be dead. But she was in charge of collecting souls for Heaven. She was incredibly powerful and didn't participate much in the war."
Ah, That made more sense.
Still…
This was new information to me. "But the souls are still coming up. How?"
"It is widely thought that her shades are still active," Gabriel explained, before pausing at my confused look.
Shades?
"Collecting so many souls as one Angel is impossible, especially when our Fathers inference spiralled and you insisted on playing with the others." Gabriel replied.
I wanted to raise an eyebrow at how she was acting. Was that a hint of jealousy? No.
Gabriel was kind and she had a genuine love towards humans. Michael had told me about the many times she had gone out of her way for human children. I must be imagining it.
I focused back in on the words being spoken.
"So she created strange beings called shades in mass to help her. The shades aren't powerful, but they can touch souls and don't take physical damage." She finished.
I pondered this, watching a group of souls in the distance enjoying what appeared to be perpetual happiness.
It seemed sad and strange that someone so important was no longer alive, yet her work continued without her.
"What about the souls here?" I asked, gesturing to the expanse around us. "Are they aware? Conscious?"
Gabriel's expression softened. "They are what could be best described as semi-conscious and living happily. They experience what brings them joy, what they most desire in life. To a certain extent anyway. Some commune with others, some prefer solitude. All find peace here."
She gently pulled on my hand and we entered the strange crystal world.
We watched on for a while. They didn't seem to notice us yet, but we were standing quite a bit away.
"What about Angel souls?" I suddenly asked.
Gabriel paused. "I am not sure… our souls are different. They are more powerful than normal humans by a lot. So this realm doesn't apply to us…"
I perked up.
"Did the newly resurrected Angels say anything? We should ask them." I said after a moment.
"We took the liberty of doing that. A long time ago actually. Not many Angels were revived during the Great War. It's why Heaven was in such a bind and many were lost. Devils learnt of what God could do from Lucifer and began burning the bodies of Angels." Gabriel revealed a complex tone in her voice.
My fists clenched tight.
I knew Heaven hadn't come out completely unscathed. The resurrection skill I had required a body. I supposed Yahweh's did as well.
"When we die, we simply see nothing. When revived, it's as if we are there one moment and not in the other." Gabriel admitted.
That sounded terrifying.
"In truth, I think I prefer that then living in some sort of afterlife. I assume this is the same for Gods as well. I think sleeping eternally lest we ever fail would be better than living in a world without you." Gabriel said, and I sent her a glance.
I hadn't expected her to say something so heavy.
Damn it.
Now, I was feeling worse.
This level of devotion and obsession towards me wasn't deserved. I don't feel like I've earned my place at the throne yet.
"I'm guessing you don't have Azrael's body?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
By the sounds of it, having the Angel of literal Death would be invaluable.
"No, we could never find it or her." Gabriel said with a soft sigh. "Our elder sister simply vanished."
The flaming sword has something to do with her right? I had found a fragment of it in the underworld.
Perhaps her body had been there as well?
We continued watching on as I asked questions about various subjects regarding Heaven.
We watched the crystal landscape for a little while longer.
I kept asking questions, mostly to kill time and take Gabriel's mind off what I had done.
Eventually I decided it was time to go.
That left the next thing I wanted to do.
"I think I want to visit the Garden of Eden," I said, turning to her.
"There's something and someone I want to check."
A certain cherub I'd like to see.
"The Tree of Knowledge." I said, answering her questioning look.
Gabriel tilted her head. "Raivel?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
She hadn't forgotten the name of her sibling.
"Yes."
Her eyes softened.
I didn't need her to tell me that she would continue tagging along.
A zap of energy gathered around us. We disappeared from the third realm, and in a moment, the familiar warmth of Eden greeted us.
This place still held its calm. Gentle winds brushed the trees, soft golden grass shifting around us.
I smiled.
Frieren was still within the hidden pocket in the forest, presumably inspecting the area and learning from the angelic magical spells I had given her.
She was probably one of the best people I could have summoned. A relaxed but incredibly powerful elf who seemed content to simply obey.
We walked in silence. The Tree of Knowledge wasn't far.
As we stepped into its grove, a blur of light dove from above. Before I could react, I was tackled into a hug.
Raivel.
"Raivel," I said, not surprised.
"Father!" she shouted into my chest. "I knew it was you!"
Gabriel laughed softly beside me. "Still as energetic as ever."
Raivel flinched, and looked over to Gabriel. "Elder sister?"
"Hey, Raivel." Gabriel said, giving the girl a kind smile.
I stared at her briefly, watching her smile with a small smile of my own.
Gabriel soon found herself wrapped in a hug of her own.
"Hey, Raivel. How are you doing?" Gabriel asked kindly, her attention taken by the girl.
"I'm feeling much better." She replied, sending a not-so-very discreet glance in my direction.
Gabriel rubbed her back. "I'm surprised you're still here in all honesty, I heard Michael was reaching out to all our siblings who have chosen a life like yours."
Raivel looked up. "Michael was here not so long ago, he did offer and inform me of Father's return. But I already knew."
I patted her head. "You know you can leave with my permission right?"
She shook her head. "I like it here, though, if you need me. I will come right away."
Raivel said, the last part making her twiddle her thumbs expectantly.
I looked up at the tree.
"If that's your wish."
She poured, and Gabriel laughed openly.
I approached the trunk, pressing my hand against it. A hum of energy ran up my arm.
But nothing else.
No visions. No cryptic messages. No insights. No quests.
I let my hand fall.
I suppose I wouldn't be getting any insights today. Of course. There were only so many times I could pull wisdom out of this place. It had already helped me multiple times with quests.
Oh well. It was worth a try.
I turned back to the two of them.
Raivel had latched onto Gabriel's arm now, babbling something about a sparrow she had fed.
I let myself smile.
-{Azazel}-
Azazel leaned back in his office chair, enjoying the brief reprieve.
He really couldn't decide if his Father's miraculous return was a good thing or not.
The whole thing was making him feel oddly reminiscent. Feeling that presence had locked a part of his personality that he had buried for what he thought was good.
The problem was the infighting happening with the Fallen. Even the various smaller sub-factions within the Fallen Faction overall had gone radio silent.
He poured himself a drink. He could tell big things were coming.
An explosion rattled the entirety of the small city that was owned by the Grigori in the underworld.
He sighed tiredly.
A group of Fallen were fighting.
This was a common occurrence in the few cities that the Grigori possessed. Azazel spotted one of the stronger Fallen that served as the main peacekeeping force, quickly flying out.
Azazel stared at the half-empty glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid slowly.
The muffled thump of another distant explosion made his office lights flicker for a second before stabilizing. He didn't even flinch. Just another day in Grigori.
The door opened without a knock. Shemhazai stepped in, dressed in a standard Grigori coat, clipboard in one hand.
"Another fight?" she asked casually, though her tone carried that familiar edge of disappointment.
"Yep," Azazel muttered, rubbing the side of his head. "Looked like one of the city blocks this time."
Shemhazai didn't sit. He stood near the window, watching the smoke rise faintly in the distance. "You know you're going to have to give everyone more than just a false peace agreement meeting, right?"
Azazel sighed, long and slow. "I know."
That "meeting" had been a stalling tactic. something to keep the restless Fallen from jumping ship or tearing each other apart. Most of them didn't care about diplomacy. They just want answers. Or revenge. Or forgiveness.
"Any word from Heaven?" Azazel asked, breaking the silence.
Shemhazai finally turned away from the window. "No, and yes. Heaven itself hasn't responded. But the church, yeah. They've changed. Drastically."
Azazel raised an eyebrow.
"Activity's gone up by over five hundred percent. Exorcist units, artifact retrieval, blessing renewals, even crusader movements. All coordinated. And all of our spies? Gone. Every single one."
Azazel clicked his tongue, leaning back in his chair. "Eager to get back into Pops' good graces, huh?"
Shemhazai nodded once, expression unreadable. "They're acting incredibly boldly."
Azazel leaned forward again, resting his arms on his desk. "Makes sense. Can't blame them."
Shemhazai didn't respond immediately.
Azazel looked at his longtime friend. "How are the others holding up?"
"Worse than us. Barakiel barely talks. Penemue has stopped attending high command briefings. Kokabiel's off the leash again."
"And Armaros?"
Shemhazai shrugged. "He's stable. But he's watching everything like a hawk. Taking notes. That usually means he's planning something."
Azazel grunted in response. "Better than sulking, I guess."
Shemhazai shifted his expression tense. "Do… Do you think Father's going to be angry?"
Azazel pursed his lips, his hands subconsciously clenching the armrest of the chair he was seated on.
That would be bad…
"I don't think so." He replied, taking a moment to think about it.
They would have felt it by now. Everyone felt the very rare event where Father lost his temper.
"Why do you ask?" Azazel questioned.
"My wife, Azazel. If anyone's going to feel Father's wrath it'll be the Devils first." Shemhazai said, his tone was laced with a small amount of worry.
"That… would be a problem." Azazel said, rubbing his forehead.
"Do you think Father would accept us back?" He asked, pacing around.
He didn't like seeing his long-time friend like this, it was rare Shemhazai worried. Age and exposure to what the world was truly like tended to do that.
Yet, at this moment Azazel felt like a child again.
Knowing his Father had a punishment in line.
The Grigori had hardly been perfect, he would say they weren't far off the Devils in terms of the amount of pain they had caused. He was sure everything would come to light in front of Father's gaze.
When the Evil piece's existence had been found out by the rest of the Faction's, the Fallen took it as a challenge and had done some truly horrendous things to keep up.
"Perhaps some of us, like Penemue. But I'm afraid the rest of us may truly be damned." Azazel replied with a frown.
Shemhazai remained silent for a while.
"Do you miss it?" He asked hesitantly.
Azazel snorted. "In some parts, if the old man wasn't so fussy we would be up in Heaven as we speak. But if you're asking if I would go back? Of course I would."
Shemhazai sent him a shocked look.
"Don't look so surprised." Azazel chuckled tiredly. "Don't get me wrong. Getting laid is awesome and being able to have sex with my perfectly crafted siblings is extra awesome."
Shemhazai groaned.
"It wasn't worth the constant paradise and the constant small moments we had with our family. Laughing with Lariel, hanging out constantly and talking with everyone…" his voice trailed off.
Memories flash through his mind, lounging around in Heaven. Hanging out with everyone on the clouds Father had made before couches were a thing.
He let out a breath.
Shemhazai watched on, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he knew exactly what Azazel was experiencing.
The moment moved on as the lights flickered again, this time from another minor blast downtown.
Shemhazai raised an eyebrow. "You want me to handle it?"
"No," Azazel said, getting up slowly. "I'll take care of it. Might help to be seen."
-{Ryuzi Kamoza}-
He couldn't say this was the reality he thought he would be living when he had found out he was a wielder of the infamous assembly of powerful soul-bound artefacts dubbed Sacred Gears.
Perhaps it was all the anime and gaming he had done that has given him this idea of being some sort of protagonist.
Yeah…
With above average intelligence and what he had thought was a very powerful Sacred Gear, he had created plans.
Back at the time he had known of the supernatural world. Or well, the existence of other magical beings.
Mostly because of the way his sacred Gear had activated. An attack from what could only be described as some monster had activated it when it had tried to kill him.
The only reason he was alive was because the way it had played with him, enjoying his fear right up until a bolt of lightning had hit its head, promptly ending its life.
After coming to terms with the horror and how he had narrowly escaped, which had taken a few days of staying curled up in his bed.
He had become excited.
He had gone around feeling very powerful.
Each day he trained his nameless Sacred Gear he had gotten better and stronger.
It felt amazing.
He had gone around masquerading as some sort of anti-hero. That was to say he went around beating people up and robbing stores. A mix he considered both good and bad to cancel each other out.
Money had come in. No signs of this supernatural world he had thought existed. It was like they were invisible and it had remained that way for multiple months…
Right until he had come across what could only be called the supernatural underworld.
It hadn't been a hard fight. That was to say for his opponents.
When he had first come into contact with them he was excited to finally test himself.
The strange force had come out of nowhere. The first hint of a supposed supernatural world he has seen since the first fight. They wore masks and carried electric batons.
The fight went well, despite the number advantage he had proven himself.
Taking down six of them, using lightning blasts and using what he called his lightning armour.
The electricity hadn't even done anything, the only advantage they had was the combat experience as even his body had been enhanced by the Sacred Gear.
Then what he now know as the head enforcer had come and performed what could only be described as a beat-down.
The middle-class enforcer had been quick, and incredibly strong. He had only gotten one powerful last ditch lightning blast off on him before he was made unconscious.
After that?
He had wished he hadn't gotten his Sacred Gear or even could die but that too as a slave isn't his choice.
He covered his sleeve with the slave brand burnt into his skin. He focused on the large man chatting to his son. He stood next to the head-enforcer as his second-hand man.
"I'm telling you it's not possible, brat." The large man huffed.
"And I'm asking again why it's not?" His son asked, lounging on the couch.
The only reason the spoiled man in his early twenties hadn't become paste was due to his status as the boss' son.
The boss was incredibly powerful. A descendant of a Dragon long-dead. It was said he had a foot within the High-class realm. A level of power that would give them a massive step up against the other criminal families.
"Because Heaven has started kicking up a fuss and we can't afford to gain even a single exorcist's attention." The boss replied patiently.
Joining what could be called a supernatural criminal family had revealed a lot. Heaven, Devils, Fallen and many other Factions existed.
Colossal Titans in the supernatural world.
Ones that would only require one small report to a low-ranking administrator to send a squad that would wipe the powerful crime family off the map without a trace.
It was disheartening. Knowing that he wasn't worth much.
All his dreams had faded and he had decided to simply accept his fate.
"Don't we have a contact for that?" The son boredly questioned.
"Yes, but as I told you he hasn't been responding." The boss replied.
The son huffed. "I don't want to leave my penthouse just because we may step on some toes."
The boss let out an irritable sigh. "Kazos, read me the report again."
The head enforcer nodded. "Exorcists have been poking around the nearest black market."
The boss nodded. "And that's only a few mere miles away from your apartment!"
"Fine, I'll agree to keep a guard on me at all times." The son lazily waved.
The boss finally glared at his son. "You need to leave. Tonight."
"But father-"
The conversation halted as the doors to the penthouse suite exploded inward in a shower of splinters and holy light.
I didn't even flinch.
They flowed into the room like living shadows. Six figures in pristine white tactical gear trimmed with gold sigils that seemed to burn against the fabric. Exorcists.
"By the authority of the church, you have been dubbed harmful on the local populace and thus in need of apprehension," announced their leader, a woman with close-cropped silver hair.
The boss looked taken aback as if he couldn't believe this had happened.
He wanted to shake his head. They hadn't been subtle.
"Kill them!" roared the boss.
The room erupted into chaos.
Underlings poured in from side doors, at least twenty of them, armed with enchanted weapons and their own supernatural abilities.
I stepped back against the wall, making no move to join the fight
The first exorcist moved quickly. He sidestepped a fireball, dropped into a sweeping leg motion that took down three opponents, then sprang up with a palm strike that sent another flying across the room.
The holy sigils on his gloves flashed with each impact.
Two more exorcists worked in tandem, their movements synchronized like dancers.
One created an opening, the other exploited it.
They wove through the crowd of underlings with precision strikes to pressure points that neutralized supernatural abilities. Bodies dropped to the floor with each blow.
Kazos, the head enforcer, roared as he charged two exorcists, his fists glowing with energy.
For a moment, he seemed to have the upper hand.
His massive frame moved with surprising speed, forcing the exorcists back.
His triumph was short-lived.
One exorcist feinted low while the other vaulted over her partner, descending on Kazos with a spinning kick that connected with his temple. As he staggered, they pressed their advantage.
A flurry of strikes followed by restraints that glowed with holy energy, nullifying his powers.
The boss' son barely had time to react before an exorcist materialized behind him, applied a precise chokehold, and rendered him unconscious in seconds.
Only the boss himself posed a real challenge.
The boss' Dragon heritage became evident in the scales emerging across his skin, he unleashed a devastating blast of energy that caught five exorcists in its path.
They slammed into the walls, a barrier barely protecting them as power was unleashed.
By now the entire room was a wreck and the building was alight on fire.
The battle continued outside. Multiple buildings getting caught by stray dragon fire.
The lead exorcist stepped forward.
She raised her hand, and light streamed from her palm. Not a single beam but thousands of pinpoint rays, like miniature guns raining down holy energy.
The boss raised a shield of draconic power, but it began to crack under the assault.
Another exorcist unsheathed what looked like an ancient short sword.
When he thrust it forward, it extended into a spear of pure light that pierced through the boss' defenses, pushing him back against the wall.The exorcists moved as one, surrounding and restraining the now subdued boss.
He watched in pure admiration.
The crime family had been subdued in a matter of minutes.
A peak-middle class being restrained.
Throughout it all, he hadn't moved.
When an exorcist approached him cautiously, hand on his weapon, he simply held up his hands.
The young man paused, studying his face. With gentle movements, he pushed up his sleeve, revealing the slave brand that marked him as property.
His expression changed from suspicion to something else. Understanding. Compassion.
The exorcist's tactical glove dematerialized as he extended his bare hand to him.
His smile was small but genuine.
It was enough to make him want to cry. Years of captivity due to his foolishness as a teenager and saved by a church that didn't even know his story.
The ridiculousness of religion seemed a lot less ridiculous.