Kokabiel POV
The funeral was held three days later in Heaven's great amphitheater, one of the few structures that survived mostly intact.
Every angel who could stand attended. Thousands of us, wings folded respectfully, facing memorial pyres arranged in concentric circles.
In the center stood Yahweh's pyre. Empty because his essence had returned to the Tree of Life. Only his white robes remained, stained with golden blood.
Beside it, Metatron's pyre, his body recovered by Azrael and prepared with reverent care.
Surrounding these were thousands more pyres. Every angel who'd fallen in the war, each tended by family and friends who'd survived when they hadn't.
The mood was suffocating. Angels who'd held themselves together during the fighting were finally breaking down.
I stood at the front with the other Seraphs. Michael on my right, Gabriel on my left, both pointedly not looking at me since I'd explained what I'd become three days ago.
Michael stepped forward to begin the rites, his voice steady despite visible grief. "We gather to honor those who gave everything for Heaven. Our Father. His Voice. Our brothers and sisters who fought knowing they might not survive."
He spoke the names then. So many of them. I watched angels break down as their loved ones were memorialized. Raphael's jaw clench when healers from her legion were honored. Saw Gabriel sobbing openly as angels who'd died saving others were named.
I should feel the weight of these losses crushing me like it was crushing them. Should be grieving with my siblings, sharing this collective pain.
Nothing came. Just cold observation that the ceremony was well-structured and serving its psychological purpose effectively. The absence felt wrong in a way I couldn't articulate,like reaching for something that should be there and finding only empty air.
When Michael finished, he looked at me. "Kokabiel will now speak for Father and Metatron."
Every eye turned toward me. I stepped forward, trying to remember what grief looked like.
"Father led us for eons. He guided us, protected us, loved us. He died protecting Heaven from Lucifer's ambition, ensuring we would survive to see this moment. His sacrifice wasn't in vain. We shall live up to his trust."
The words felt hollow despite being true.
"Metatron served as Father's Voice. His wisdom guided countless angels. I knew him closely, he was a good angel, a trusted comrade. They're both gone now, along with thousands who fought beside us. We honor them by continuing, by rebuilding, by ensuring their sacrifices weren't meaningless."
Silence fell. Then someone started crying, the sound spreading through the amphitheater like contagion.
I'd said something wrong. Or said right things wrongly.
Michael moved smoothly to take over, leading the actual funeral rites. Divine flames ignited simultaneously, consuming angelic remains and releasing essence back to Heaven. The smoke rose in spiraling columns while angels sang traditional dirges in heartbreaking harmony.
Gabriel grabbed my hand suddenly, squeezing hard. "At least try to look sad. They're watching you."
I adjusted my expression, pulling muscles into what should approximate grief. Let my shoulders slump slightly.
Gabriel's grip tightened painfully. "You look constipated. Stop. Just stand still and don't make it worse."
So I stood motionless while Heaven mourned around me, unable to participate, unable to grieve . The funeral lasted hours. By the end, only ashes remained, scattering in winds that shouldn't exist in Heaven's controlled environment.
Yahweh was gone. Metatron was gone. Thousands of angels were gone. And I felt nothing except recognition that following their path would be illogical, that survival was the practical choice. I knew it was wrong. They hadn't died because it was logical, they'd died because they loved what they protected more than their own existence.
I should understand that. Part of me did, intellectually. But the emotional comprehension that made such sacrifice meaningful was simply gone.
The weeks that followed established brutal patterns.
Heaven needed organization while everyone processed trauma. So I provided it.
Restructuring hierarchy based on optimal skill distribution, splitting units that had worked together for millennia because their combined skillsets were redundant. It was efficient and completely destroyed the social support networks angels desperately needed.
Gabriel confronted me after I'd reassigned healers who'd trained together for centuries. "You can't just separate angels who've worked together forever! They're friends! They support each other!"
"They're redundant in their current configuration. Spreading their skills across different teams provides better coverage."
"That's not how relationships work! These aren't just coworkers! They're family struggling with grief and trauma!"
"I'm optimizing for reconstruction speed, not social comfort. It's the best course."
She looked at me like I'd stabbed her. "Do you even hear yourself? You're talking about our siblings like they're expendable machine parts."
"I'm deploying angels with specific skills more efficiently. Heaven's safety must come before emotional comfort."
"You're wrong. You're so completely wrong that the old you would have understood immediately why."
She turned away. "Let Michael handle the people parts. You focus on logistics. Division of labor."
She was right. Michael was better at emotional components of leadership.
I nodded. "very well. I shall coordinate with Michael before making personnel decisions going forward."
"Good." She left without looking back, disappointment hanging in the air like smoke.
I established clear chains of command. Michael at the top with the Heaven's Key, Gabriel managing defense, Raphael overseeing healers, Azrael maintaining records. It created clear structure but made everyone miserable, because nobody felt heard or valued, just assigned and ordered. But it was efficient.
Michael tried softening my directives when delivering them. "When Kokabiel says you need to work overtime on barrier repairs, what he means is we'd really appreciate the extra effort because safety is critical for our siblings...."
I interrupted. "No. What I mean is work overtime on barrier repairs because it's critical. Stop softening my orders."
"I'm making them less harsh! Half the angels are terrified to approach you!"
"Good. That means they'll focus on work rather than social interactions."
Michael stared at me. "You can't seriously think that's good."
"It's optimal."
"It's destroying morale! They're our siblings, not expendable resources!"
"Both statements can be true simultaneously."
He left without responding, frustration radiating from him. I added "work on Michael's frustration management" to my mental concerns list. It was growing by day.
I attempted maintaining relationships through scheduled interaction. Literally wrote it down: "Gabriel: Tuesday afternoons. Penemue: Thursday evenings. Azrael: Wednesday mornings."
Gabriel noticed it immediately. "Did you seriously schedule spending time with me?"
"Yes. It ensures consistent interaction to maintain personal connection."
She just looked heartbroken. "That's so sad I don't even know how to respond."
I tried to be more softer. "Please accept the scheduled time and participate in bonding activities."
She shook her and chuckled in disbelief, maybe anger. "Bonding activities. You're talking about our relationship like it's a training exercise."
"Isn't it? I'm training myself to simulate appropriate emotional connections."
She looked at me with an expression somewhere between pity and horror.
But something in that look made something in my chest twist uncomfortably. Not pain, but awareness that I didn't want to see that expression on her face again.
That should count for something, right?
She came anyway. Every Tuesday, we walked through Heaven's gardens where crystal flowers hummed softly. "Do you remember planting these?" she asked once, touching a flower that glowed soft blue.
"Three thousand two hundred and fourteen years ago. You wanted to bring more beauty to Heaven. Father approved. I helped design the growth patterns."
"And do you remember how you felt?"
I pulled up the memory, my old self smiling as flowers bloomed in cascading waves, Gabriel's delighted laughter. Perfect detail, zero emotion. "I remember being pleased with successful implementation. Satisfied with aesthetically optimal results."
"You were more than pleased. You were genuinely happy. You hugged me and said making me smile made everything worthwhile."
I tried to connect with that. Nothing came except recognition that the statement sounded like something my former self would have said.
"I believe you. The memory structure supports that interpretation. I can recognize that making you smile should matter to me, that your happiness should be valuable beyond social utility. But I don't feel it. I only know it."
"Should be. But isn't, not anymore."
She was silent, flowers shifting colors around her grief. When she spoke again, her voice was steadier. "Then tell me this, if you can't feel that my happiness matters, why keep showing up? Why maintain the schedule?"
I considered the best way to say it. "Because when I search for what remains of my values, my priorities, the things I recognize as important even without feeling them... you're there. You and Michael and the others.
The memory of caring about you is so fundamental that even hollowed out, I can't ignore it. I don't feel that you matter. But I know you matter. And knowing seems like it should be enough to keep trying."
"Is it enough?"
I shrugged. "I don't know yet. Ask me in a few centuries."
She almost smiled. "That's the most honest answer you've given me. It hurts more, but it's better."
We walked in silence after that, and somehow it wasn't entirely uncomfortable.
Thursday evenings with Penemue followed different patterns. She found me surrounded by reports after seventeen hours of continuous work.
"You look terrible Lord Kokabiel."
"My physical appearance meets standard parameters."
"That's not what I mean. You haven't stopped working since the funeral. Even if you don't need physical rest, your mind needs breaks."
"My mental processes are functioning optimally."
"Are they? Because Gabriel says you're struggling with basic social interactions. Michael says you're accidentally terrifying angels. And I can sense you are more distant than before."
She grabbed one of my reports. "Look at this. Perfect logical sequence, strategically sound, and completely ignoring that angels need to see progress in places that matter to them emotionally, not just tactically."
"I don't understand what you mean."
"I know. That's the problem. Let me help you remember how to think emotionally."
She pushed a journal toward me. I used to keep one before it got destroyed. "Start documenting everything you remember about emotions. What they felt like, what triggered them, how you responded. Listen to us when we share your stories. Maybe that would help you understand who you are to us."
Something shifted in my chest, probably an echo of what gratitude used to be. "You're certain this is worth your time? This could take centuries or might not be possible at all."
"Then we'll spend centuries trying. I've invested millennia in you already. What's a few more? Someone needs to tell you when you're being an emotionless disaster."
Ah, I remember. she was attracted to me in a way that angels shouldn't be. I even remember kissing her as a gesture. She would be considered an ideal mate according to human standards I believe. But after my transformation, she never tried to be overbearing like before. Just sad.
I guess she loved the old me, not what I've become. It's better that way. One less person to heart.
She opened the journal. "Now. Start with joy. Describe what joy felt like."
So I did, writing clinical descriptions of emotions I remembered but couldn't feel. She read over my shoulder. "This reads like an autopsy report. You're describing them like dead things you're dissecting. Try describing them like they're alive, like they mattered."
"They did matter. Past tense."
"Then write like they still could matter. Future tense. Aspirational." She pointed to a line. "Here—'joy was characterized by elevated mood and increased energy.' That's terrible. Try 'joy felt like light filling my chest, making everything seem brighter and more possible.'"
"That's less precise."
"It's more human. Try it."
I rewrote the entry in her style. It felt awkward, almost embarrassing. But she nodded approval. "Better. Write like you're trying to explain to your future self what it was like to feel things. Because maybe that future self will read this and remember."
She then stood up and looked around carefully, then shoved my head between her chest. It was... warm? "Do you remember what you used to do when I did this?"
"I think pushing you away because it made me uncomfortable?"
"Then why are you not doing it now?"
"Because I do not feel anything. But I do think it's a gesture of kindness and love reserved for close ones. So, thank you?"
Penemue was breathing heavily. Was that some respiratory issue?
"Umm... would you like to touch them?" She looked expectant.
I looked curiously. "Isn't that unwelcomed by females to be touched there?"
She was smiling weirdly now. "Hehe, I don't mind." She sat on my lap without any respect for personal space.
"I think it's not normal to be this close."
"Just do as I say. It's fine." She took my hand and put it on her chest. "Feel them"
I didn't see why it would help, but I followed her words and touched them. Didn't feel anything other than it was soft and warm. She was for some reason acting weirdly, but if it made her happy, that means I'm making progress.
Squeeze.
"Ahhnnnghhh~"
I looked at her nervously. "Did I hurt you?"
She was...drooling? "Mnhh, no, it's okay. You can be rougher with me~"
I think this was not appropiate for some reason. But I kept going as she made those weird noises.... I think I know what this was. In my knowledge, human females seem to make this sound during mating.
But isn't she an angel? Angels can't procreate.
"Ahnn~ This is like a dream coming true! More! Pinch it!"
Pinch.
"Yessshhh!"
Suddenly Gabriel barged in te office . She looked at Penemue on my lap , my hands pinching on her chest. She stormed over with a red face, and yanked her out of my lap then threw her on the floor.
"You harlot! Brother lost his essence, and you are trying to take advantage by doing...these...lewd things! Why haven't you fallen despite ...this!" She looked rather upset.
I answered from my chair. "I made some changes in the heaven's system. It grants angels more freedom now. You can't become a fallen as long as you have a pure heart and love for heaven, and absolutely loyal to it. Although I do belive procreating is impossible for now."
Gabriel blushed. "You! I'll deal with you later. You DO NOT touch any female angels, even if they tell you to! Specially not...there! God, I can't even leave you alone now!"
I nodded although I didn't understand. "Acknowledged. I won't touch any female angels even if they tell me to."
She dragged away Penemue who passed out with a weird smile and twitching. She seemed happy for some reason.
Now that I think about it, it smelled weird here. And there's a little wet patch on my robes. Wonder what that is.
Gabriel never allowed Penemue to approach me without supervision. She even started spending more time with me.
That must be good progress?
*****
Wednesday mornings with Azrael were brutally honest. He met me in the training grounds with clear rules. "You hold back to archangel-level. No ascension nonsense. And you actually try, don't just go through motions."
We fought. His sword work was efficient and deadly. I blocked and parried with perfect technique but zero passion.
"You're so different," he said between exchanges. "More mechanical. More predictive. You used to have this fluidity like dancing. Now you're just calculating optimal responses."
"Is that inadequate?"
"It's boring. Fighting you used to be fun, challenging in a way that made me better. Now it feels like sparring with a training robot that mimics combat but doesn't understand it."
After I disarmed him for the fourth time, he called a break. "This sucks. You are too strong now. Do you even enjoy this?"
"I remember enjoying it. The challenge, the test of skill, the satisfaction of improvement. But I don't feel that enjoyment now."
"Then why do it?"
"Because you need practice against opponents who push your limits. Because maintaining relationships through shared activities is important. Also, it's on the schedule."
"God, that's depressing." He stood up, stretching. "Try to remember that fighting used to be fun. Even if you can't feel it, try to act like you're having fun. Fake it enough and maybe some part will remember how."
"I'll attempt to incorporate enjoyment simulation into combat practice."
"That's not what I..." He stopped, laughing bitterly. "Never mind. Just show up. That's enough."
****
I also took time to interact with the caht group. They considered me a friend, so I believe I should reciprocrate as musch possible.
So my ascension affected multiple worlds, created changes across dimensional boundaries. Concerning.
[Shadow Monarch: The dungeons have stabilized finally after Kokabiel's situation. I can finally get a new evaluation now.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Ooohhh! Are you finally going to be a S-rank hunter?]
[Shadow Monarch: Yes. I was actually planning to search for items to make a potion for my...mom, but stopped before I got the final item. Might as well get it done before anything. Maybe it can help someone in similar condition.]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: Ara so, Jin Woo san has gotten more stronger. I fell lacking when you guys talk about growing stronger.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: It's okay Robin, I'm still the weakest here. I even couldn't level up for some reason after Kokabiel's transformation affected my world. Adventurer stopped leveling up for a couple days or so.]
I typed in the chat.
[Heaven's Wrath: I apologize for any instability my transformation caused. That wasn't intentional.]
[Flash Goddess: Don't apologize! You were fighting for your life! But Kokabiel-san, we want to help you get better. You helped all of us when we needed it, even if you didn't think it meant much. Let us return the favor.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Yes. you gave us good advice to improve our strength, and listened to me complain about Aqua after I got drunk. Alright! New mission: helping you remember how to person again. You need someone to tell you when you're being a creepy robot. I nominate myself.]
[Shadow Monarch: You can start documenting emotional memories. See how other react to certain things. It might help recovery later. I owe you a debt, I will repay it by helping you. You can call for me anytime. ]
[Heaven's Wrath: Thanks Jin Woo. I appreciate it. And I'm sorry that you have to go throught the situation with your...]
[Shadow Monarch : Don't fucking say it! Check DM! ]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Humm, so suspicious. What are you hiding man?]
[Shadow Monarch: ... Nothing]
[The Fool: Practice emotional simulation in low-stakes situations first. I had to relearn social interaction after some incidents, and you helped me fit in here. I'll give you the same advice you gave me. Start small, work up to complex displays.]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: Don't isolate yourself. Talk to us anytime, Share what you're experiencing. Let us help you understand it. You're worth the effort. I felt happy after a long time becuase of you that day. It means a lot.]
They were offering genuine support, practical advice, emotional scaffolding I couldn't build myself.
[Heaven's Wrath: I'll try my best. That's all I can promise. Thanks, all of you.]
[Flash Goddess: That's all we're asking! Now tell us about Heaven's reconstruction. How are you guys holding up after god died?]
The conversation shifted to practical matters. They offered suggestions, asked questions, kept me engaged in ways that felt almost normal.
Their advice proved valuable.
When I tried implementing visible struggle instead of perfect performance, results improved.
An angel caught me trying to comfort someone who'd lost their entire squad. I was saying technically correct things but the delivery was clinical, empty.
Instead of hiding it, I stopped mid-sentence. "I'm doing this badly, aren't I? I'm trying to provide appropriate emotional support, but I can't feel what you're feeling. Can't understand it properly. Gabriel would be better at this. Let me get her."
The angel looked at me oddly. "You're being honest about not knowing how to help? That's... actually kind of helpful? Knowing you're trying even though it's hard."
Gabriel took over actual comforting, but the angel thanked me afterward for being honest, for not pretending to understand something I couldn't.
Visible struggle created connection that perfect simulation never could.
Michael grew confident operating the Heaven's System, making independent decisions that balanced my cold efficiency with genuine care. I was glad he was growing as a leader.
"I'm restructuring the work schedules you created," he told me during one meeting.
"What's wrong with current schedules?"
"They're optimal for productivity and terrible for morale. Angels are burning out."
He showed revised schedules. "I'm adding mandatory rest periods, rotating assignments so angels aren't always doing emotionally draining work, creating space for community rebuilding."
"That's less efficient."
"It's more sustainable. Your schedules would work for months before everyone collapsed. Mine will work for centuries." He looked at me. "Sometimes the efficient solution isn't the optimal one."
I studied his revisions. I hadn't accounted for emotional fatigue or psychological recovery time. "Implement your changes. They're better."
"Really? You're not going to argue?"
"Why would I argue with correct analysis? You identified limitations in my approach and created solutions. That's exactly what good leadership looks like."
Michael actually smiled. "When you say things like that, I remember why Father chose you. You can be surprisingly humble when you're not trying to optimize people like resources."
"I'm attempting to improve."
"That's good enough for me, brother."
Two months after the funeral, I sent directives to the Church. My orders were clear; banning forbidden research, human experiments, weaponizing faith, and dangerous rituals.
The response was immediate chaos. Pope Clement VI called it "unprecedented interference." Other bishops also remarked negatively in secret. Omniscience allowed me to see it all.
They of course had to obey it. But it didn't make them happy.
Michael found me reading the complaints. "You couldn't have consulted me first? Maybe approached this diplomatically?"
"They were conducting human experiments in Basel, attempting to weaponize faith in Constantinople for a crusade, researching forbidden summoning in Rome. Then there's the case of plague, calling it divine wrath and devil's corruption and whatnot. Diplomatic approach would have allowed those practices to continue during negotiations."
"And causes massive political damage!"
"Which you can repair through follow-up diplomacy. Division of labor. I stop immediate threats, you manage relationship fallout."
He rubbed his temples. "You can't unilaterally make decisions affecting millions of humans. New rule: run directives by me first."
"That's inefficient."
"I don't care. You're missing critical evaluation factors. You need oversight."
He was right. My analysis was incomplete without emotional and political considerations. "Fine. Future directives will require your approval before implementation."
Michael looked surprised. "Really? Just agreeing? No argument?"
"Your reasoning is sound. I'm missing data. Using you as supplementary processing for those gaps is logical."
"I'm not supplementary processing. I'm your brother trying to prevent you from accidentally starting a religious crisis."
"Both statements can be accurate simultaneously."
He laughed despite himself. "God, I miss when you could tell jokes on purpose instead of by accident."
Later, following chat group advice, I found Michael again. "I recognize my actions created additional work for you. I appreciate you managing the diplomatic fallout I couldn't handle appropriately."
He blinked. "Did you just apologize?"
"I attempted to acknowledge my limitations and express gratitude. Was that incorrect?"
"No, it was good. Awkward but genuine. Thank you. "
Small progress I guess.
*****
I'll just break down the large chapters into 2 from now on. Cz I posted 7 chapter worth of content already , but you guys care about daily uploads rather than actual content as evident🤷