Two hours later.
Inside a sleek corporate conference room, a succession of company representatives were finishing their pitches to a table of serious-faced investors. The air was thick with the scent of expensive coffee and polished ambition. The humans chatted politely, exchanging compliments on the quality of the presentations.
In the midst of this mortal theater, Gabriel sat perfectly still. She was zoning out entirely. Her brow was deeply furrowed as she stared straight through the person currently speaking, her violet eyes focused on some invisible, distant point. The intensity of her gaze alone seemed to press down on the room, though the humans merely attributed it to the intimidating focus of a powerful CEO.
In her mind, a single, corrosive loop played.
If you knew Amelia was his heart's burden, why did you not save her? Are you so obsessed with your rank, your angelic duties, that you would let your friend's friend die? That you would cause such a death?
Lucifer's accusation was a barbed hook, buried deep. It replayed with every breath, a silent scream under the drone of financial projections.
Raphael, standing attentively against the wall behind her, could feel the storm of distress radiating from his Archangel. He discreetly took over, handling minor queries and ensuring the meeting's flow continued smoothly around her statuesque silence.
When the final presentation concluded, the room erupted in polite, measured applause. The sound acted as a trigger. Gabriel blinked, her awareness snapping back into the present. She rose smoothly with the others, mimicking their applause with mechanical precision.
After the meeting adjourned, she moved through the crowd on autopilot. She shook hands with investors, thanking them for their time. She offered bland commendations to the presenters, her words flawless and utterly empty. Her smile was a practiced curve of her lips that never touched her eyes.
Once the last human had filed out, Raphael closed the heavy conference room door and locked it. The sound of the bolt sliding home seemed to release Gabriel from a spell. She sank back into her luxurious rotating chair and brought her hands up to her face, pressing her palms hard against her closed eyes.
Raphael quietly organized the scattered documents and tablets left on the table. When the space was orderly, he approached her. "My Lady," he began, his voice gentle. "Are you well? I observed you were… elsewhere for the duration of the meeting."
Gabriel's hands slid down her face. Her stare, when it locked onto him, was so sharp it felt like a physical threat. The pressure in the room spiked.
"Do you believe I failed as a friend?" The question was quiet, deadly.
Raphael did not hesitate. He knelt on the polished floor before her chair, placing himself lower. "In what context, My Lady?"
"Am I a failure because we, who can move planets and command stars, could not heal a single mortal disease? Because a friend of mine died of something as mundane as cancer, and I was powerless?" Her voice was tight, holding back a torrent of anger and grief she would not allow to surface.
Raphael shook his head firmly. "You are not. You defied celestial precedent for Lady Amelia. You exhausted every permissible and impermissible option. A failure is one who sees a path and chooses not to walk it. You walked every path until there were none left. You cannot blame yourself for an ending that was written in a ledger beyond even your reach."
Gabriel let out a long, slow breath. "Thank you for the attempt at comfort." She studied him for a moment. "If I faced Lucifer directly, head on, next time. What are my chances?"
Raphael did not sugarcoat it. "Statistically, low. Your Authority governs spatial displacement. It requires tactical application. Hers, based on my investigations, appears to involve division or bisection on a conceptual level. A blind confrontation could result in your defeat before your power could be effectively brought to bear."
A faint, approving smile touched Gabriel's lips. "You have been diligent. To gather such intelligence in a single night, after my… declaration."
"I strive only to be of service," Raphael replied, his head still bowed. "As you were of service to me when I had greatest need."
Fwip.
A bottle of rich, red wine and a single crystal glass appeared on the conference table beside her. Raphael stood, poured a measure, and handed it to her. She took it, sipping slowly.
"So," she said, the ghost of an evil grin playing on her lips. "What is your plan to kill her?"
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The scene shifted to the wind-swept rooftop of the corporate skyscraper. Gabriel leaned against the safety railing, Raphael standing a respectful pace behind her. They were waiting, gazing up into the bright, cloudless blue sky.
After several minutes of silent vigilance, a glint of light appeared high above, invisible to human eyes but blazing like a beacon to their celestial senses.
Seconds later, a column of pure, concentrated light lanced down from the heavens. It struck the center of the rooftop with a soundless impact that nevertheless made the air tremble. The beam persisted for several seconds, bathing the area in its radiance, whipping Gabriel's silver hair and the hem of Raphael's suit jacket in a sudden, powerful wind. They remained unmoved, unfazed.
When the light vanished, it left behind a smoldering, intricate sigil etched into the concrete. From the center of this divine mark, two figures rose.
They were angels, each standing six and a half feet tall, clad in ornate, ancient plate armor that seemed forged from solidified moonlight. Four magnificent wings of shimmering energy were manifest behind each of them. As they took their first synchronized steps forward, an immense, oppressive aura washed outwards, a wave of pure, divine intent that engulfed the entire planet. Humans below would feel only a sudden, inexplicable sense of dread, a need to look over their shoulder.
But to Lucifer, miles away in Cain's quiet house, the pressure was a clarion call. It was the feeling of a predator's gaze settling directly upon her. She looked toward the source, and a slow, knowing smile spread across her face.
Cain, coming down the stairs fully dressed, caught the expression. "Why are you smiling?" he asked.
She shook her head, the smile not fading. "I am merely anticipating our outing today."
Back on the rooftop, the two armored angels strode toward Gabriel and Raphael. One extended a gauntleted hand in formal greeting.
Gabriel ignored it, looking past them as if they were stains on the view.
Raphael smoothly stepped forward and took the proffered handshake in her stead.
The angels stood with rigid, unquestionable authority. "I am Dumah," intoned the first, his voice like grinding stone.
"I am Raziel," said the second, his tone cooler, like shifting ice. "Of the Ten Commandments. Sent by the Heavenly Council." Their wings folded and demanifested. "We trust the directive has been received."
Raphael gave a curt nod.
Gabriel finally spoke, raising a hand without looking at them. "What is your strategy concerning Lucifer?"
Dumah and Raziel looked down at her, their helmeted faces unreadable. "She is a Fallen One," Raziel stated, as if explaining something simple to a child. "We will subdue her. It will require minimal exertion. Your role is merely to observe the resolution of a task you could not complete."
Without another word, they turned. Their wings flared back into existence with a sound like ringing crystal. In unison, they launched themselves from the rooftop, two streaks of holy light arcing across the sky, their course set to hunt a devil in broad daylight.
Raphael watched them go, then turned to Gabriel. "My Lady, what is your will? Do we intervene?"
Gabriel's earlier tension was gone, replaced by a look of cold, amused anticipation. She leaned back against the railing, her smile widening.
"This," she said, her eyes tracking the fading lights, "is going to be a magnificent show, Raphael."