It had been three months.
Three months since I met Qetsiyah.
Three months since I stepped into something far more interesting than anything I had expected.
I stood in the garden again.
We had been meeting regularly in her dreams. She taught me what magic was, how to use it, and what it was used for. At first, she had been suspicious, guarded, always testing me with questions, small traps, and misleading statements to see if I would contradict myself. She never fully trusted my words, but she trusted what she could observe, but that slowly changed.
It had been a very interesting experience so far. And my theory had been correct—the divine power flowing through me could be used to cast magic.
But the way it worked was different from witches. According to our observations, it wasn't like I was communicating with nature and asking it to allow my spell to manifest. It was more like I was commanding nature itself to allow the spell.
That immediately made me think about Divine Authority, which was still locked. Was this one of its side effects, even while sealed? Probably.
Another achievement of mine this week was the start of my journey learning the Celestial Tongue—the holy language spoken by angels.
And let me tell you, it was hard. Extremely hard. Even with my enhanced cognitive abilities and Michael's memories, after one week I had only learned a few scattered words.
This would definitely keep me busy for a long time.
While learning the language from Michael's memories, I also began diving deeper into those memories themselves, and I found something very interesting.
Something called Representations of Michael the Archangel.
Symbols associated with me — such as a sword, shield, or banner of victory—could be invoked for spiritual protection.
Symbols.
This looked more and more like Supernatural, but according to the memories, it was different. I could grant these symbols to believers of God, or use them myself for protection against supernatural beings. If a place was marked with my symbols, lower angels and most supernatural entities would be powerless there. Only God or beings equal to me in strength could ignore them—which, for now, was basically no one.
Of course even if you drew it and didn't ask me to bless it, that would fail because it required my divine power to flow in it. My brother and sister had similar things.
I also learned something else from the memories—angel hierarchy.
I used to think the Archangels were the highest order. Wrong.
The actual order was:
Seraphim — "Burning Ones." The highest order. They stand in the direct presence of God, worshipping Him and reflecting immense divine power.
Archangels — Leaders and generals of Heaven's armies. Commanders, warriors, executors of divine will.
Cherubim — Guardians of sacred places, extremely powerful and intelligent beings.
Lucifer… was a Cherub.
And me—Michael, the Archangel known as the Warrior. The one who defeated Lucifer. He was the strongest in Heaven, that one was for sure. Of course after God.
(I would like to see that memory one day.)
This was only basic information, and even that wasn't complete. There were other Archangels—four or five in total—but my memory was still fragmented. After all, this was only 5% synchronization. I had a feeling that I needed to reach at least 10% before I received more complete memories.
That was basically what happened over the last few days.
"It's been a long week," I muttered under my breath.
— That Night, in Qetsiyah's Dream —
"So, are you ready to start?" Qetsiyah asked.
"Of course. When have I not been ready?" I replied.
"By the way," I added, "when are you going to start believing me?"
"That you serve God?" she said with a small scoff. "We'll see."
It probably wouldn't take long. I learned magic extremely fast, I could enter dreams, I was immortal—which was admittedly hard to prove—and I used a completely different power source than witches. She probably already believed me to some extent, she just didn't want to admit it so easily.
And I understood why. The immortality spell was a huge secret.
To be honest, I was starting to feel reluctant about not telling her what would happen to her. About Silas. About the betrayal.
In these days, I had come to see her as a teacher… and maybe even a friend.
I didn't want to see her end like that.
But even if I didn't stop her from creating the spell, as an angel I was supposed to maintain balance, order, and harmony in the world.
Stopping Qetsiyah was nature's job. If nature didn't allow it, the spell wouldn't exist.
But preserving the timeline… that was closer to my responsibility.
Yes, it sounded ridiculous. But high-level Archangels could interact with time in ways humans couldn't even imagine. From fragmented memories, I understood that Archangels didn't just fight—they maintained structure. Order. Continuity.
As higher-dimensional spiritual beings, they could perceive something like a conceptual river of time. They didn't always change it—but they could see where it flowed, and sometimes… guide it.
So all I could really do… was regret.
"Are you going to let me help with the spell?" I asked.
"When you tell me more about angels," she replied.
"Didn't I already explain? We serve God, we have wings—what more is there to know?"
"Tell me your story," she said, looking down. "And I'll let you help from now on. But let me be clear—you will only watch and help when I say so. I don't want you interfering."
"Alright," I said. "But not the whole story. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't tell you everything."
But this also gave me an idea.
What are angels, really?
Servants of God. Messengers. Observers. Judges. Warriors only when necessary.
Spreading what was meant to be spread through humans… that could also be considered angelic work.
"Alright," she said, sitting down and looking at me seriously. "Tell me as much as you can."
"It all started at the beginning," I said.
"The beginning of what?" she asked.
"Creation," I replied. "And don't interrupt, please."
"…Sorry," she said, slightly embarrassed.
And so I began to tell her a story.
And slowly, the only sounds left in the garden were my voice… and her quiet exclamations of surprise.
When I woke up, I opened my panel.
╔══════════════════════════════╗
║ TEMPLATE SYSTEM ║
╠══════════════════════════════╣
Current Template:
Archangel – Michael
Age: 18
Race: Angel
Synchronization Rate:
8%
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Current Power:
Tier 9-C
True Power:
Tier 8-C -> 8-B
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Current Abilities:
• Smite
• Telekinesis
• Perception of Truth
• Dream Walking
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Equipment:
• Michael's Sword (Sealed)
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Notice:
"Divine authority restricted.
Output limited to preserve world stability."
╚══════════════════════════════╝
Eight percent.
Three months. One percent increase.
Slow.
Very slow.
But I wasn't in a hurry.
After all, for the first time since I arrived in this world, I had something I didn't have before.
Time. Endless time.