THE LIGHTBRINGER

Not me, not Michael. Since the beginning of time, Gabriel had been the mouthpiece of the oracles, the one whom Father spoke through, and the rest of us had to abide by whatever he said, but this time, Father summoned me Himself, to the throneroom of Aether.

It was supposed to be a woundrrous occasion for me, yet I couldn't quench the dread in my heart. As if I was going to face the judgement of infinite realities and the multiverse itself. For the first time and the last, I, Samael, the Lightbringer was frightened.

*

Silver City...

The Angelic Council Convened once more, and the glorious archangels sat on their beautiful thrones, some with mixed expressions, and others trying to hide the dread they felt. Michael, who was clad in radiant armor, exuded an authority and purpose, yet his piercing gaze revealed a glimmer of uncertainty

"Gabriel, brother, are you certain of the oracle? The message is... profound, unsettling even. The Most High desires an audience with Samael? In the sacred chamber of Aether, no less?"

Gabriel lowered his eyes momentarily, the gravity of the message apparent in his demeanor. He unfurled the scroll, the glowing celestial script shimmering as he spoke out.

"The oracle was delivered thrice, Michael. The words echo with divine clarity: 'Let Samael come, for the will of creation shall converge in the Aether.' It is not ours to question but to heed. The Most High's intentions, though veiled, are never without purpose."

Michael's brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his gaze unwavering.

The others were as unsettled as the messenger himself. This had never occured since the beginning of time, no Angel or being had been summoned directly to the throneroom to be given an audience with the Creator himself and yet for the first time, the Creator chose to do so. and the one who was chosen to bear such a task was none other than Samael.

To some it was a dreadful situation for Samael, considering his whole unruly and disobedient son act, yet for some reason some felt jealous as this was the only time they would get to bask in their Father's glory, yet they had not been chosen.

"Brothers. The oracles have spoken, the word of the Almighty, final. We will escort Samael to the throne room. It's the least we can do for our brother..

They're here already..."

Michael shook his head as he spoke and looked into the distance. With a simple flap of his wings, he disappeared from his throne and appeared in the heart of the Silver City, where angelic spirits and exotic creatures sang his worship, yet he paid no heed and looked in front of him, earnestly watching the visage of the figure walking out of the shattering and folding space around him.

POV change.. Samael..

I walked out of the wormhole I had created without my usual high and condescending face. My head was lowered slightly, my mind racing with thoughts as I walked step by step into the Silver City.

"Brother.."

I halted, and lifted my head only to see Michael and the brethren gazing towards me, some with yearning, other with a tinge of jealousy, yet I ignored them and let out a sigh.

"What is it this time? Michael? If you lot have come to berate me for my actions or something then save it. I have rather pressing matters at the moment."

I scowled, walking past the council and even brushing shoulders with Michael for a moment there.

"We came here with no such purpose, brother. Sigh. We are here to escort you, as family, to the throneroom.."

His words made me pause for a moment there, and I shifted my head to the side. Family was a word I hadn't heard in a few millenia, yet he chose to use it at this time. I knew Michael could tell my current emotional state. I've been at loggerheads with him got so long, he could read my expressiond with just a look.

He knew I was distressed and uncertain. Fearful again, and he was right. I was. Yet choosing to stand by me at this point made me feel a certain amount of comfort there for a moment. Something I had never felt. For a second there, I felt a tingling sensation in my chest but I shook my head. I was battling several emotions at the moment, didn't want to add on more of them.

"You don't need to. I can do this on my own.."

I scoffed, unfurled my wings and dashed into the skies at breakneck speeds, but Michael, the ever persistent one unfurled his wings and looked towards the other Arc angels who unfurled their wings and chased after me.

Watching them chase after me, I shook my head trying to be annoyed, yet a smile unconsciously bloomed across my face.

In an instant, we landed atop the peaks of Mount Zion, the most beautiful and highest peak in the silver where the throneroom of Aether was located.

My wings tucked back in with shake of my shoulders and I walked towards the magnificent and glorious castle like apparition in the distance.

It didn't take long to get there, the entrance to the throneroom, right before my eyes, as robust and magnificent as always, it's form ever changing, existing sometimes in fluid like appearance, other times, a solid glossy massive tower that looked like it was crafted from marble, emerald and cobalt, and other times it shifted into golden aether particles that drifted along the heavenly river banks.

Unfortunately, I wasn't here for sightseeing so I took in a deep breath and walked to its massive gates only to be greeted by none other than Metatron at the massive pearly gates, holding his blade that was sheathed into the ground like a knight protecting a palace.

I rolled my eyes as my gaze fell on him for the second time, and a mocking smile appeared on my face.

"Ah, the sight for sore eyes, The great scribe of heaven, always conveniently stationed to play doorman. Tell me, Metatron, do you ever tire of reciting protocol, or has it become second nature, like breathing—oh wait, you don't even do that."

Metatron, and even the host were surprised at my sudden sassiness and Raphael who stood close to Azrael had to hold the laugh in him so hard that his eyes began to tear up.

"Samael, your irreverence is noted, as always. The Throne demands respect."

Metatron glared at me disapprovingly, yet my job was done, I felt refreshed after letting it out. I should probably work on that a lot more.

"You may pass, but tread carefully, Samael. If even I the guardian of the throneroom, born with it's very essence, can't get too close inside, what do you think might happen to you? Why do you think Father summoned you?"

His words struck a nerve, yet my face remained impassive. Wouldn't want to give him the joy of knowing his words at least hit a chord in my soul.

Taking one final glare at me, Metatron's hands, glowing with divine authority, lift and spread outward, commanding the towering pearly gates to open. A faint hum filled the air, rising in pitch as the gates began to move, their massive frames groaning with a sound akin to galaxies turning. They parted slowly, revealing a radiance so intense it seems to bleach the very concept of space and time.

Taking in one last breath, I turned to my brethren for probably the last time and stepped forward, my eyes narrowing against the brilliance, but the sardonic quip on my lips faltered as the light gave way to... nothing.

Yes.

Nothing. Instead of the expected splendor of the Throne Room, I was expecting, I found myself suspended in an endless void. The pearly gates vanished behind me as though consumed by the sheer vastness. No floor supported my steps, no ceiling loomed above. All around me was an infinite expanse of luminous white, yet it was not blinding. The light was soft and omnipresent, devoid of source or direction, like a canvas unmarked by creation's brush.

The silence was profound, pressing against my senses with the weight of eternity. It wasn't the absence of sound but the absence of existence—a vacuum that swallows even thought. My wings flexed instinctively, searching for purchase in this void, but they brushed against nothing. For the first time since my birth, I felt something I had never known - Fear.

Unease flickered across my sharp features. This was not the Throne Room. -- or at least not what I expected it to be. This was..... beyond. It felt like stepping into the bones of reality itself, where even the fabric of being seems tenuous. The Overvoid—primordial and untouched, the space before creation.

"What is this, Metatron?!"

I growled, my voice carrying no echo, devoured instantly by the vast emptiness. I turned around sharply, but Metatron is gone - no everything was gone. I was trapped in the suffocating nothingness.

But..

Suddenly before me, the faint outline of something began to take shape—a silhouette wreathed in a haze of shifting light, impossibly vast yet infinitesimally close. The presence hummed with a resonance that transcended words, vibrating in Samael's core.

And for the first time since the birth of the Multiverse, I uttered a word I never thought I would have to mention again.

"Father..."

My usual defiance faltered for just a moment, swallowed by the immensity of where I now stood. This was no Throne Room, no chamber bound by heavenly architecture. This was the raw essence of divinity itself, a confrontation with the infinite.

And in that infinite silence, He saw me.