The Seraphic System
Chapter: 123
(Bonding With Death)
A full two days had passed since the incident with the now-sealed Titan.
In that short time, much had happened in my absence. Raphael had begun her analysis of Pan, working in isolation with the containment barrier reinforced twice over. The Mortal Cup had been stored safely, awaiting the discussion with the rest of the Seraphim about its potential applications.
At the same time, the weekly visit to the crypts had been put on hold, but even then, Heaven's forces had shot up.
I hadn't been negligent in that regard.
Thousands upon thousands of Angels had returned to Heaven. They were less clingy than the rest of my Angels, except those who had died. I couldn't deny it made me feel a certain way when they could sense I was God's successor almost instantly.
So that ten-minute interval normally turned into two hours as I took time to stay with them.
It made it easier to send them down to the first Heaven.
The Sacred Gears had already been cause for commotion. Amongst the number of Angels I had been able to find a few hosts, and that hadn't gone unnoticed.
I was pretty sure it symbolically meant something massive, given how Gabriel had reacted.
Now, Gabriel had finally taken the chance to let me out of her eyesight. That had only happened because Azrael had quite literally dragged me away for soul healing.
The moment Gabriel saw her sister approaching, she relaxed as if passing the duty of watching over me to someone she trusted completely, which was only mildly necessary. I wasn't leaving Heaven again.
The original plan was our usual spot for soul training. The quiet garden in the sixth Heaven, where we usually conduct these sessions. But when we'd arrived, and I'd let a yawn slip, that plan had abruptly changed.
That had led here.
My bedroom.
The door closed behind us with a soft click. The room was simple but comfortable. A large bed with white sheets, tall windows that let in the filtered light of Heaven, and sparse furnishings that suited my preferences.
Now, here I was.
Lying down on the bed with the Arch-Seraph of death laying beside me, her long pitch-black hair came down in waves as she focused on me, a hand coming up and immediately glowing with a silver energy.
I felt the contact instantly, in the same manner that it had when she first taught me to look and feel for souls. Her hand stayed on my chest and allowed for the soothing energy to seep into me, threading through the cracks that remained from channelling so much power.
After a few minutes that left the two of us in silence, a slightly awkward silence considering the proximity. It was a silence I was more than happy to break.
"So… how are things?"
Azrael's gaze, which had been on my chest and further my soul, flickered up to meet my own.
She almost looked confused by my attempt.
"Your soul will only take a few sessions."
"Oh that's good, not what I was asking though." I replied with a smile. "How are you?"
"I am… good?"
Was that a question?
"That's good, how is your work with Heaven's souls going? You told me that it looked like someone had tampered with some of them last time." I asked, moving on from the weird attempt. "I hope you've gotten some rest."
Azrael stared.
"They are going well, there hasn't been a major increase in deaths and as per usual the retrieval remains unintruded upon." She replied confusedly. "I did notice a large amount of souls were redirected a few years ago, the search has been unfruitful as of now."
"How long are we talking?"
"Over two hundred years." She replied. "I… apologise. It's been a rather hard search."
"Don't apologise." I replied thoughtfully. "It was bound to happen. Especially with Heaven basically shutting itself from the world. I'm sure you'll manage and as for my question, have you rested?"
"Rested?"
"Yeah. Like spending some time other than collecting souls and managing that."
"I went with Gabriel to track you down, we were nearby when your message came." Azrael responded.
"That's not quite what I meant." I sighed. "Perhaps next I'll have to arrange for us to do something as well."
She blinked.
Perhaps taking all the girls on small outings would work as an apology? Then I could take Uriel and Michael to do something as well. Maybe when I had some time.
She looked down at my chest, then awkwardly as if trying to create more conversation, she spoke again. "Its surface is cracked, with lines going deeper but not overly so. It feels like something straining attempts to pull itself from you."
I activated my own soul sight, and sure enough, her assessment was correct, though she sensed a lot more than I did. Judging by how long it took me to see these deeper lines.
Other than that, my soul didn't look that bad.
The large nebula had cracks on its surface, and while that was alarming, I could see Azrael's comforting energy drop down and slowly soothe the cracks in an almost intimate manner.
It was then that I remembered how she had spoken about touching souls and how important that was for her.
"So, I ask, what did you do to incur this?" She asked next.
The question halted my own response.
I pursed my lips.
"Don't lie to me, please," Azrael said, her black lips thinning.
I smirked. "I didn't intend to. To be brief, it has something to do with an ability connected to my eyes. I hadn't expected much to come from it but…"
"I used them to… summon some sort of avatar of my predecessor?"
She stared, unblinking. "Ok."
"Ok?"
"Okay…" Azrael replied. "I don't believe you told Gabriel and me this when we arrived."
That's what she was focused on?!
Then again, her reaction was weirdly comforting.
"I'm not really sure…" I said. "I guess I was a bit worried that you would make assumptions based on it. I didn't want it to signal anything."
"And what would such a thing 'signal'?"
"That He was coming back," I said with a frown.
"You don't wish for that to happen?" She questioned curiously.
"No. I am myself." I replied, feeling oddly calm around her. I blinked at myself. "He's not coming back."
"It's not a problem." Azrael replied.
I waited for her to continue.
She didn't.
Talk about bad social skills.
"And why's that?"
She turned back to me.
"Hm?"
"Why shouldn't I worry about the many Angels that have been waiting for Yahweh to come back, wanting him instead of me." I stated blandly.
She smiled faintly, an expression so subtle that it was hard even to see. "You don't have to worry about such a thing. You already enthralled Gabriel, while all my other siblings merely love you for you. It's not a problem."
"What if it is a problem?" I asked curiously.
"I'll deal with it."
Why was that so comforting?"
"You'll deal with it?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Mhm."
"What about you?" I asked, staring into her eyes.
She paused, strangely taken aback by the innocent question.
In truth, this was always a big worry for me.
Perhaps it was my body shutting down slowly as everything weighed on me, or that odd feeling as Azrael's soul came to wrap around mine, a feat normally not possible except for when you were a master at manipulating souls.
"What do you mean?" Azrael asked.
"Do you like me for me?" I asked with only a hint of nervousness.
She stared down at her fingers.
What?
"Yes, a lot." Azrael nodded, then looked away with a blush on her cheeks. "I like you very much as you are, proceed?"
How were my social skills better than hers…
I blinked. She didn't look at me, her gaze fixed on where her hand rested. But there was a faint colour to her pale cheeks that hadn't been there before.
"Good to know." I turned away.
We settled into silence. Her energy continued to flow, mending what remained of the damage. It was peaceful, lying here with her. The knowledge of everything that had happened, Kronos, the battle, the Sin artefacts, all of it, seemed distant.
My eyes drifted to her hand, specifically, to her finger. The ring I'd given her sat there, the black stone shot through with silver veins catching the light. It looked perfect on her.
"That ring looks good on you," I commented idly.
She perked up at the comment.
"Thank you."
"I'm glad you're wearing it." I smiled after she merely stared at me.
Azrael's hand stilled for just a moment. "I like it very much, your artwork is appealing and the manner in which you went to make it symmetrical is pleasing."
She nodded to herself, as if pleased by her own words.
"I'm glad you like it, I'll have to get you some more gifts if it's so well-liked." I chuckled. "Here I was thinking about improving it."
She was quiet for a beat too long. When she spoke, her voice was softer than usual.
"No, I like it the way it is, I don't receive many gifts. Not one given freely, without expectation or obligation." Her silver eyes finally met mine, and there was something vulnerable beneath that cold surface. "I value it very highly."
The words hit harder than I expected, and I found myself surprised at how much she had reacted to my words.
I reached out and covered her hand with mine.
"You definitely deserve it" I held her gaze. "You're my Angel. One of the people I trust most in existence. Don't forget that and use that ring as a sign of it if you need."
There was something about seeing any of my Angels upset that didn't sit well with me.
Her eyes widened slightly. That carefully maintained composure flickered, and for just a moment, I saw something raw beneath it. Something that looked almost like longing.
Then she looked away, her expression settling back into its usual mask. But her hand turned beneath mine, fingers intertwining with my own.
"You say such things too easily," she murmured.
"I've gotten better at things like that, especially with Gabriel." I smirked.
We stayed like that for a while.
I found my eyes growing heavy, the exhaustion I'd been fighting finally catching up. I settled back against the pillows, exhaustion pulling at me again. Azrael continued her healing, her free hand remained in mine.
Somewhere in the haze between waking and sleep, I felt her fingers tighten around mine.
-{Azrael}-
"What about you?"
Such a simple question.
And yet it had caught her off guard.
Perhaps it was wrong to admit, but she had always felt like an outcast amongst her kind. She knew her siblings loved her deeply. Gabriel fussed over her. Michael respected her deeply. Raphael worried about her health. Uriel sought her counsel on matters.
The many other of her siblings she had slowly taken to reuniting with, such as Ariel… but alas, many of the siblings she had been closest with were no longer alive.
Despite being family, there were those closer than others, while everyone held a base level of love for each other, no matter the circumstances. Unless you betrayed the family, at least that could be expanded upon.
But it was rare for any of them to ask such a thing directly.
What about her?
When was the last time someone had genuinely wanted to know?
Or perhaps that was merely a figment of her imagination. A story she told herself to justify the distance she kept. It had been that way since the beginning.
She had always been independent. The Angel of Death worked alone. Collected souls alone. Her duties were not something that could be shared with other living beings. Even during the war, Father had forbidden her from partaking, primarily because of the importance of her role.
So she sat out while her siblings died. She was merely there whenever she had the time to come back to Heaven.
Azrael understood why.
Souls were a vital part of Heaven.
If she died, with Father gone, Heaven would have fallen. Still, she would never know why he had entrusted her with the Flaming Sword. A super weapon that she had never been allowed to use.
The Flaming Sword.
Her thoughts drifted to it unbidden.
Seven pieces now. Scattered after Lucifer's revolt. Father had warned her of its power. The weapon that could cut through any material or energy, any concept or domain, shattered back into fragments when Lucifer's ambition exceeded the Devil's grasp.
It had been stolen from here, broken and lost in the wind. The only gift from father.
Four remained lost.
Her attempt at focusing on anything else shattered the moment Kaiel shifted again, drawing her impossibly closer.
One powerful arm was locked around her waist, holding her flush against him, every inch of her body pressed tight to the solid heat of his chest as if sleep itself refused to let her go. Her head nestled deeper into the curve of his neck, face buried in the steady rise and fall beneath her cheek.
She didn't know what to do about this.
This was already the longest someone had held her. Beyond the hugs she got from her siblings, there were occasional bursts of excitement.
So this entire situation was an unfamiliar one.
She could tell Kaiel was truly asleep. If this was a subconscious action, was she providing him warmth? Did he wish for this? Or did that mean he didn't actually want to touch her?
He could be upset if he woke up to this.
Yet, for some reason, she didn't want this end.
Azrael really didn't know; in many situations, she knew that she would merely leave. In fact, in all situations, even with her father, before, she might have left in fear of his rejection.
She frowned.
He shifted, and his grip somehow tightened.
She had slept in his bed before… with the rest of her siblings.
Her face scrunched.
It was comfortable.
Angels didn't really need sleep, so why was she feeling tired?
She shook her head and decided to pretend this situation didn't exist as she relaxed in his arms.
The soul damage was healing well.
A few more sessions and the cracks would seal completely. The connection between their souls that had formed during the healing process. It was intimate in a way that few understood.
His soul was beautiful.
Damaged, yes. Strained from channelling power beyond what it should have held. But beautiful nonetheless. A nebula of swirling light and potential, shot through with golden threads that connected him to every angel in Heaven.
Including her.
She should move.
Azrael sighed as the thoughts came back to her.
This was improper. His arms tightened around her slightly, as if even in sleep, he wanted her close. Her fingers tightened around his instead.
He needed rest. He pushed himself too hard, threw himself into danger too readily, and trusted his own strength when he should have called for aid. It was infuriating. It was reckless.
It was also, she admitted privately, somewhat admirable.
She frowned.
Waking up wouldn't do any good.
She supposed….
-{Leto}-
A full week had passed since Othrys.
Her capture that shouldn't be taken lightly in the slightest had felt like a blink of an eye. The life that had been so slow was speeding up in a craze for a few weeks and promptly slowing back down once she was released.
Perhaps that was part of what led her here.
Leto stood before a small church on the outskirts of Rome. Not close to the Vatican, which had become Heaven's main base of operations.
Her divine form was concealed beneath a mortal guise, her lustrous golden hair turned to a modest brown, and the general light she possessed was dulled.
The events after the battle had followed a familiar pattern. Her daughter was safe, and that was what mattered.
Artemis had been freed from Atlas's burden.
Everyone's attention naturally shifted to her.
And Leto had faded into the background as she always did. A part of her was glad for that. It was the attention she received in the first place that had prompted such an attack.
So why was she standing in front of a church?
It had taken her a while to realise she felt a sense of shame. More precisely, she was here because of shame.
It had taken her until after everything had been said and done to realise what she had done. In her haste to reach Artemis, she had abandoned the very man who made that rescue possible. Left him alone to face Ladon. The hundred-headed dragon that even gods approached with caution.
Then, before any further talking had happened, Hades had arrived and stolen the absurd group of Angels away. Leaving Leto, almost as if it were a dream.
It was a rare occurrence to meet any sort of Angel.
An Arch-Seraph and what was definitely some high-ranked Angel? Not just any Archangel but the Sword of Heaven himself, a being who had killed numerous gods.
It was easy to look down upon many as a Titan. She didn't try to, but the demigods had barely earned her attention. The same couldn't be said for the Angels.
While she had been close to escaping, that didn't have a large chance of working with Atlas so close by. There was a good chance it would end in a fight that would have failed. Doubly so if that other being had been around.
So the Angels' arrival had massively evened the odds, while she didn't know their purpose, she did know that one of them had been the infamous divine general of Heaven, who had fought off two beings in the realm of the Primdorials.
What had she done to repay all this?
Left him at the first chance she could. She had not even thought about it at the moment. Her daughter was in danger, and she moved. But instinct did not excuse it.
He could have died. Leaving the man who came to save her daughter to potentially die while she ran to that same daughter's already-protected side was tasteless. It was the kind of thoughtless cruelty she would expect from the more shameless gods.
The ones who used mortals and discarded them without a second thought.
"Can I help you?" A kindly priest stepped out.
She turned.
"Apologies if I startled you." The man said. "I noticed you have been standing outside for a couple of hours."
"I'm fine, you can rest assured." Leto replied awkwardly.
"Very well, if you need anything just let me know." He nodded. "It's rare to gain visitors in this church anymore, don't be afraid to ask for help."
Leto pursed her lips thoughtfully.
"In that case." She said, gaining his attention. "Would you lead me to an altar or sacred shrine to contact Lord Yahweh?"
She had spoken to humans many times, but not on the matters of worship.
He chuckled. "Yes, we do have something like that."
He led her inside, then towards a status of what she believed to be Jesus, the son of god, if memory served her correctly. Candles were lined around the status in the dozens, casting a light glow in the darkly lit room.
"I hope you find what you're looking for."
Leto smiled brightly. "Thank you very much."
The man coughed and nodded graciously, leaving her be.
Leto focused back on the altar.
Hopefully this altar was properly connected.
She wasn't really sure what she was looking for in this encounter, but a proper thank you would be the basis of it. Leto didn't fancy herself too prideful, even with her status as a Titaness.
Thanking an Angel who had come to her aid wasn't something that hard to her, but still, even if it would be kept to herself, there was more to this desire to meet than purely that.
Curiosity.
She clasped her hands together and nearly flinched at the present that stood behind her.
Leto swirled around.
Kai stood at the entrance, eyes bright with recognition. He wore no armor, carried no visible weapons. He looked almost ordinary except for the pressure of his presence filling the space.
Along with that certain allure his look possessed.
He smiled at her.
"I can't say I expected to hear from you so soon."
Behind him stood a woman who made Leto's breath catch.
With flowing Golden hair. A figure that somehow put many goddesses and even Primordials to shame, the women possessed bright emerald eyes that fixed directly on Leto with curiosity.
-{Azazel}-
The crystal glowed softly as Serafall's face was projected above it, a thin line of dust glowing as a carefully pressured beam of refracted light transmitted from the other crystal the Leviathan possessed.
She looked tired.
That was unusual for the ever-energetic Leviathan. The magical girl persona was absent today, replaced by the calculating Satan who had earned her position through centuries of political manoeuvring.
"The alliance talks have stalled completely," Serafall said without preamble. "Heaven hasn't responded to any of our overtures in months. My talk with Gabriel fell flat on its face and died a horrible death. What. Is. Going. On. Azazel?"
Azazel leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the armrest. "I'm aware."
"You're aware that whatever progress we made is gone?" Serafall clarified, disbelieving.
"Unfortunately, I'm aware of that as well," Azazel replied with a frown.
"Then you're also aware that we're running out of options." Serafall's eyes narrowed. "The pressure we were applying, the careful diplomatic channels we established, all of it has evaporated in a mere year. Can you see why, as the head of foreign relations, this might be slightly stressful?"
"Well… Heaven has always been difficult to negotiate with." Azazel tried.
"This is different, and you know it." Serafall pressed. "Something changed. We've noticed infighting among the fallen. Unusual movements. Communications that stop mid-sentence. What aren't you telling us, Azazel?"
He smiled thinly. "What makes you think I'm hiding something?"
"Because you always are."
Fair point.
"Beyond that, you weren't the only one to feel that surge of power at the Vatican. Since then, the Vatican has practically exploded into life in what looks like war preparations; all our informants are dead. Our steady progress into getting Heaven and furthermore the resources they possess into an alliance has been obliterated."
Azazel nodded. "I'm aware of this, and the devils aren't the only ones with problems."
"That's another thing, why exactly is half your faction rebelling?" Serafall's eyes narrowed.
He hadn't seen this Serafall since after the civil war.
"It's complicated." He sighed.
"This whole situation is complicated, beyond the sheer mystery. Ajuka's formula isn't working." Serafall said, gauging his blank face.
No, it wouldn't, would it? If he was there.
"Aren't you a little frustrated? How much work we put into achieving peace." Serafall asked. "I mean, your reactions are concerningly lax for what this is."
"And what are you calling this?" He asked.
"The preparation for another Great War," Serafall said.
His frown became deeper.
"Nothing is confirmed; you're going off a lot of assumptions," Azazel replied calmly. "Just because Heaven has decided to break out of their little shell and begin moving, doesn't mean it's war."
Serafall's face was almost comically aghast.
"You're defending this?"
Only because he really didn't even want the talk of war in his mind.
"Azazel." She said it in a deathly serious tone. "I need to know what's going on. The devils and the Fallen have been in talks for a great many years, don't tell me you're going to follow Heaven in stone-walling us."
At least she didn't threaten him.
Azazel considered his options.
He and Serafall had been working together quietly for years now, building toward a peace that neither faction officially acknowledged wanting. Secret allies in a cold war that had dragged on for millennia.
But knowledge was power. And if his suspicions were correct, revealing too much too soon could destabilise everything.
"I'm going to Heaven directly." Azazel finally said.
Serafall's expression shifted. Surprise, then suspicion. "That's bold. Even for you. Why?"
"I have a suspicion I need to confirm." Azazel opted not to say.
"About what?"
Azazel met her gaze through the crystal. "About whether a powerful… figure is as dead as believed."
"Another Angel? We have records about an 'Angel Of Death' that's been deemed a potential concern, but they've been suspected dead for a long time." Serafall said, not getting the hint. "We did think the powerful presence above the Vatican could be a superclass Angel, but it gives credence to the sudden lack of desire to work with us. But do they truly believe this figure is powerful enough to take on Ajuka or Sirzech?"
Azazel almost pitied her.
"I'm not confirming anything." Azazel cut her off. "Not until I see for myself."
The implications hung between them, both in different manners, as Serafall assumed that a powerful angelic figure emerged from nowhere. Heaven is going silent. None of it painted a reassuring picture.
In her eyes, if Heaven had produced something strong enough to cause this level of disruption, the balance of power could shift dramatically. While the Devils would still be stronger… it would be a problem.
If Azazel were correct, then that would be a different story.
Serafall's jaw tightened. "We need to know what we're dealing with. If Heaven has some new weapon or leader, we need time to prepare."
"Which is why I'm going." Azazel smiled, though there was no humour in it. "I'll be in touch."
He ended the call before she could protest further.
The crystal dimmed, and Azazel sat in silence for a long moment.
He had been debating this for weeks. Months, really. Sending scouts and spies had yielded nothing. Heaven's defences were tighter than ever, and his informants had gone dark one by one.
The uncertainty was killing him.
He had to act. Sending someone else was too risky. If this was truly what he suspected, only he had the authority to negotiate. Only he could speak for the Fallen.
The signature came in hot, and he sighed.
The door to his office burst open.
Penemue stood in the doorway, her composure shattered. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her breathing unsteady. The normally composed Fallen Angel looked like she had been crying for hours.
"I heard." She said, her voice cracking. "You're going to Heaven."
"Penemue..."
"I want to go with you."
Azazel remained pensive. "I think you know that's not a good idea."
"I don't care." She stepped forward, hands clenched at her sides. "If Father is really... if he's actually..." She couldn't finish the sentence. "I need to see. I need to know, and I want to repent."
He understood. He truly did. Penemue had always been one of the more sensitive among them.
The Fall had broken something in her that had never fully healed. The possibility of their Father's return, of facing the one they had betrayed, was stirring emotions none of them had properly dealt with.
It was perhaps the most tragic type of Fallen.
Those who had fallen due to Father's death and a hatred for those who caused it.
Perhaps it was his fault for taking them all in when it had happened, but beyond the sheer increase in forces that had occurred, Azazel had mourned in his own way.
"It's not guaranteed, Penemue, this could all be for nothing," Azazel said, attempting to reason with her.
"I don't care," Penemue said, sniffling.
"If things go badly, having you there complicates my options," Azazel explained. "This could very well be the resurgence or birth of a new, powerful Angel, which makes Heaven a lot stronger."
"I. Don't. Care."
Azazel studied her face. The desperation was clear to see. He could order her to stay, and she would obey. Technically. But the look in her eyes told him she would find a way to follow regardless.
Persuading her would be useless.
It didn't matter anyway.
Only he could navigate the mirror dimension that separated the mortal world from Heaven's outer boundaries. The pathways were treacherous and ever-shifting, designed to trap intruders in endless loops of fractured reality.
Penemue could follow him to the edge, but no further.
The gates themselves were another matter.
He rose from his chair and grabbed his coat. "Stay here."
"Azazel-"
"I said stay," Azazel said, his voice rising and his power becoming visible.
It wouldn't stop her for long, but long enough for him to slip away.
"I need to do this alone. If I'm wrong, there's no point in both of us looking foolish. If I'm right..." He paused. "If I'm right, you'll know soon enough."
He moved past her before she could argue further.
The war was in a cold phase. Had been for centuries. Him showing up at Heaven's gates to talk wouldn't get him killed. That wasn't how things worked anymore. They had all grown too tired for immediate violence.
If Michael were there and nothing had changed, they would have a tense conversation, and he would leave with his suspicions unconfirmed. Business as usual.
If Father truly was back...
Azazel swallowed.
If Father were back, then at the very least, he would hear him out. He had to believe that, and from what he knew, there would possibility of reconciliation.
He stepped through a portal of his own making, leaving Penemue standing alone in his office.
It was finally time to make his move.
He had debated long enough.
-END-
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