Uriel looked at her fellow Archangels, her expression as hard as ever—one that would not soften anytime soon, given the situation.
"Are we the only ones here?" she asked, her tone sharp, laced with disappointment. She had made it clear how urgent this was.
"The others are handling different matters. Don’t worry. We are enough," Michael was the one to reply, his voice flat and cold.
Uriel studied him for a moment. Something about him seemed... off. But then again, Michael had always been enigmatic—distant and unreadable. Dismissing the thought, she refocused on the matter at hand.
"Fine. I suppose it can’t be helped," Uriel said. "I came straight from the Far North after what happened there. Gabriel stayed behind to monitor the situation."
She then gave a brief but detailed explanation of what she had witnessed—the sudden emergence of the eye, the way its words had resonated directly in their minds and souls.
Tension thickened in the air. Some of the Archangels visibly tensed, a few even swallowing hard.
"What exactly was that thing?" Raphael asked.
"We don’t know," Uriel shook her head. "The Celestials and Demons felt it too. Everyone present at the time heard its voice."
"But why now?" Sariel questioned. "Did something happen recently?"
"What do you mean?" Uriel asked.
"I don’t know... Maybe a sign. Or an event. Something that triggered the Black Wall to react this way. Because I think that thing was waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. Why wait until now?" Sariel explained her thoughts.
A heavy silence followed.
An event that happened recently? What could it be?
"Maybe that thing has simply grown stronger," Michael suggested, his tone thoughtful yet probing.
All eyes turned to him.
"The entity inside the Black Wall... We still don’t know what it is, do we? Maybe all this time, it has been gathering its power, and now—its strength has finally reached the point where it could act."
Michael’s voice carried a certainty that made the others pause. He had to steer the conversation in this direction—away from any mention of the fragments that had recently emerged from the Black Wall. If they started piecing things together too soon, it could disrupt everything.
Right now, the fragment was still in Uriel’s domain. It needed to move elsewhere—quickly.
"That could be true," Raphael admitted.
"But does that even matter right now?" Azrael spoke, his deep voice cutting through the room like a blade. It wasn’t just his tone that was cold — the very air around them seemed to drop in temperature.
"What matters now is that we prepare for war," he continued.
"He’s right," Raphael said, his voice sharp, filled with urgency. "The threat is clear. We need to act soon."
No one disagreed. Without further delay, the meeting was dismissed, and the Archangels returned to their respective domains to prepare their armies for battle.
Michael remained in Uriel’s domain for a few minutes after the others had left.
Uriel gave him a puzzled look, but she knew he had something to say.
"What is it? Don’t you realize we’re busy?" Uriel asked, her tone fiery as always.
"I know. I just wanted to ask about the fragment. Have you finished studying it?" Michael said.
"No. My scholars still haven’t been able to decipher the runes on it," Uriel replied. "Why?"
"The others might want to examine it. Send it to them soon."
"I doubt they’re interested in it right now, given that we have much bigger problems."
"Just send it. Isn’t this something that should be shared?"
Uriel sighed. "Fine. I’ll send it soon."
Michael nodded, then turned away. His wings unfurled, and he flew off from the domain.
Uriel watched him leave, her brow furrowed in thought. Something still felt off about him.
Was the air around him truly different, or was she just imagining things? Was it simply unnecessary overthinking because of everything that had just happened?
Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought and strode toward her soldiers to prepare them for battle.
After finishing his bath and eating the breakfast prepared by the servants, Clyde stepped out of the mansion.
He glanced around, observing Graemory’s Demon soldiers stationed nearby. Their rigid posture and ever-vigilant gazes reflected their discipline.
"Will they be annihilated when the Eye awakens?" Clyde couldn’t help but wonder.
They would perish—unless he commanded the Eye to spare them. And Graemory, too.
Would he do that? With the power he possessed now, wasn’t he already strong enough?
Clyde let out a long exhale. This power was too much for him alone. How could he be the one to decide the fate of all beings in the universe?
Who deserved to be saved? Only those he considered to be on his side?
He shook his head in frustration. I’m not a hero, am I? So why should I even bother thinking about this?
Almost all the higher beings would be wiped out. Their rule over these worlds, their meaningless wars—it would all come to an end. That should be a good thing.
Clyde walked past the gates. The soldiers nodded at him, and he returned the gesture.
Maybe I’ll save them, he thought. These soldiers had once been lower beings like him, taken in by Graemory, hadn’t they?
At that moment, he felt something approaching from the distance.
"What is this? This presence... It feels familiar..." he muttered, furrowing his brows.
A deep rumble echoed through the air as the cracked sky split further, unveiling a swirling mass of darkness.
From within, a blazing fireball erupted, streaking downward like a falling star, its flames seething with so much heat energy.
The heat struck first, an oppressive wave that sent shudders through the air.
Clyde’s eyes widened in recognition. He knew this fire.
The searing glow reflected in his eyes as his heart pounded. This wasn’t just fireball that falling from the sky at random.
This is the energy of hellfire. The kind that belonged to him. And now, it was coming straight toward him.
"How did he found me here?"