The stars burned quieter these days.
Heaven was full, echoing with praise and order—but something felt hollow beneath the light. Gabriel could sense it in the way Yahweh paused mid-sentence more often now, in how Michael clutched his sword even when not in battle, in the way Lucifer's creations went untouched and unspoken of.
And then there was Amara.
The shadow beside the light.
Still present, still watching—but growing more distant.
Gabriel felt her presence often, hovering at the edge of creation, silent but vast. The angels avoided her. They'd been told to revere her, to respect her power. But lately… they were being told something different.
They were being told to fear.
---
"Do you see it?" Yahweh asked one day, standing at the edge of a galaxy he had just sculpted.
Gabriel floated beside him. "See what?"
"The imbalance," Yahweh said. "Creation expands. Order must be preserved. Amara… is change without boundary. Chaos without meaning."
Gabriel kept his tone light. "She's your sister."
Yahweh's gaze darkened. "And she is dangerous."
Gabriel went quiet.
Because in that moment, he heard it.
Not in Yahweh's words—but in the silence that followed.
He was planning something.
---
Later, Gabriel sought out Amara.
Few angels ever dared approach her. Even Michael gave her a wide berth. But Gabriel wasn't like the others. He had questions. And in his heart—he remembered being human. Remembered what it was like to be misunderstood.
He found her in the dark between galaxies, gazing into nothing.
She didn't turn when he arrived.
"I wondered when you'd come," she said.
"You knew I would?"
"You always do. You're different."
Gabriel floated beside her. "You know what He's thinking, don't you?"
Amara didn't answer. She didn't need to.
"You scare Him," Gabriel said softly. "Not because of what you've done—but because of what you could do."
Still, she didn't reply. But her shadow rippled slightly.
"I don't think you're the villain they want you to be," Gabriel added.
"Then you're wiser than your brothers."
He smiled, though it was faint. "Don't let them turn you into something you're not."
She turned to look at him for the first time.
"And what are you, Gabriel?"
The question lingered.
An archangel. A soul out of time. A variable in a story that was supposed to be written in stone.
"I don't know yet," he said. "But I think I'm here to change things."
---
Back in Heaven, Yahweh summoned Michael and Raphael.
Lucifer wasn't invited. Neither was Gabriel.
Plans were being made. Seals being forged. A prison not yet built, but already imagined.
And far above, Gabriel stood on the edge of Heaven's highest tower, wings folded, eyes closed.
He knew what was coming.
And this time, he wouldn't let them do it quietly.