In the endless shimmer of creation, Gabriel stood among his brothers—smiling, radiant, curious.
But deep within him, something stirred.
A whisper. A flicker. A heartbeat not entirely divine.
It was a spark of something other.
A soul. A memory.
A man.
Somewhere, in a world not yet born, a young man had died—ordinary by most measures. He liked coffee too sweet, laughed too loudly at bad jokes, and spent his nights binging Supernatural reruns on a cracked phone screen.
Then everything went black.
Until now.
—Where… am I?—
The thought was sudden, jarring, out of place. Gabriel's smile twitched. His golden eyes flickered as foreign memories flooded in.
My name is Gabriel? Wait. No—it was Josh… or Jordan?
He staggered slightly, unnoticed by the others as Yahweh continued to speak of creation, balance, and divine order. The archangels nodded in reverence, but Gabriel's mind was spinning.
Flashes:
– The screech of car tires.
– Hospital lights.
– The final hum of a flatline.
And now… wings. Light. Galaxies swirling at his feet.
—This isn't a dream. I'm not human anymore. I'm… Gabriel? The archangel? No way. That's… that's TV.—
But it wasn't fiction anymore. It was real.
He was real.
As Yahweh gave instructions to Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael—laying the foundation for Heaven, for the host of angels to come—Gabriel stood slightly apart, dazed but quiet. He didn't speak. Not yet.
He watched his "father" with new eyes.
He watched Michael, already so serious.
Lucifer—still whole, still beautiful, not yet bitter.
Raphael—silent, peaceful, unreadable.
Gabriel felt it in his core: these weren't just characters. They were gods. And now, so was he.
But unlike them, he remembered being human.
He remembered what pain was. What doubt felt like. What it meant to lose.
And something deep inside him whispered:
—You know what happens next.—
—You know how this ends.—
—Unless… you change it.—
He looked up at Yahweh.
This wasn't just a second chance for him.
It was a chance to change everything.
To stop Lucifer's fall.
To save the world before it's even broken.
To rewrite the story… before the ink dries.
Gabriel took a deep breath, adjusted his wings, and finally spoke.
"Hey, Pops… got a question."
Yahweh turned, surprised.
"Yes, my child?"
Gabriel grinned—but behind it was the sharp focus of a man who'd seen how it all goes wrong.
"…What if we did things a little differently this time?"