Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
Uriel
The neon sign of the DeLux Café flickers ominously as I approach, casting an eerie red glow over the gathering crowd. It’s Wednesday night—speed dating night—and the air thrums with an energy that’s equal parts excitement and trepidation. If only this crowd knew the true stakes of tonight’s encounters.
Helena’s voice crackles through the earpiece I’m wearing, a technology I’m still not entirely comfortable with. “Alright, team. Places everyone. Operation ‘Love Tap’ is a go.”
I suppress a sigh at the ridiculous code name she’s insisted on using. “Helena, is this really neces?—”
“Shh!” she hisses. “Code names only, remember? You’re ‘Halo Boy’.”
This time, I don’t bother hiding my exasperation. “I am not responding to that.”
Emilia’s soft chuckle comes through the comm, a sound that sends an unexpected warmth through my chest. “Come on, ‘Halo Boy’. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I must have left it in my other jacket,” I mutter, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. Despite the gravity of our situation, I find myself fighting back a smile.
“Focus, people,” Helena cuts in. “We’ve got a Horseman to trap and an apocalypse to prevent. Now, let’s run through the plan one more time.”
As Helena begins her recap, I scan the crowd gathering outside the café. Humans of all shapes and sizes mill about, laughing nervously and checking their reflections in shop windows. Among them, I spot several beings that are decidedly not human—a vampire trying (and failing) to look casual, a werewolf fidgeting with what’s clearly a flea collar, and is that a banshee in the corner practicing pickup lines?
I watch as the doors to the café open, and the crowd begins to file in. Raphael, posing as a waiter, gives me a subtle nod as he ushers people to their tables.
“Here… we… go,” Helena says, and I spot her weaving through the crowd. She’s almost unrecognizable in a sleek black dress and vibrant red wig.
As if on cue, a towering figure enters the café. Even in his human guise, War exudes an aura of barely contained violence. His eyes scan the room, a predatory gleam in their depths. I tense, ready to intervene, but Helena’s voice stops me.
“Easy, Halo Boy. Let him get comfortable first. Remember, it’s all about the element of surprise.”
I force myself to relax, watching as War takes a seat at one of the small tables. Helena saunters over, a coy smile on her lips as she introduces herself as his first “date” of the evening.
Helena expertly plays her role, laughing at something War has said. I recall her earlier briefing. Lucifer should be arriving any minute for his ‘business meeting’ about expanding the café.
Right on cue, the door swings open again. Lucifer strides in, looking every inch the successful businessman in his tailored suit. Only the faint red glow in his eyes betrays his true nature.
I observe, fascinated despite myself, as Helena works her magic. She leans in close to War, her hand “accidentally” brushing his arm as she laughs at his jokes. Even from across the room, I can see the way War preens under her attention.
“The key,” Helena explains, her voice low and seductive as she speaks to both War and us, “is to make him feel powerful. Desired. Like he’s the most dangerous thing in the room.”
War growls something in response, and Helena throws her head back in a laugh that’s just a touch too loud. “Oh my,” she purrs, “I simply must freshen up my drink. Don’t go anywhere, handsome.”
As she stands, she “stumbles”, sending her glass flying directly into War’s lap. The red liquid splashes across his chest, and for a moment, everything freezes.
“Oops,” Helena giggles, the picture of innocent clumsiness. But I can see the triumphant gleam in her eye. “The binding potion,” she whispers into the comm. “Direct hit.”
War rises to his feet, anger flashing in his eyes. But as he moves to grab Helena, something changes. A look of confusion crosses his face, followed quickly by alarm.
“What...” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “What have you done?”
Helena’s demeanor changes in an instant. Gone is the flirtatious party girl, replaced by a being of ancient power and cunning. “Oh, War,” she says, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Did you really think I’d forgotten all your favorite tricks?”
Before War can respond, Lucifer materializes beside them, his easy smile belying the danger in his eyes. “Well, well,” he drawls. “What have we here? Such an undesirable reunion .”
War’s head snaps towards Lucifer, his face contorting with rage. “You,” he snarls. “This is your doing!”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow, the picture of innocence. “Me? I’m just here for a business meeting. Though I must say, the entertainment is far more interesting than I expected.”
As the confrontation unfolds, I notice the other patrons of the café beginning to take notice. Whispers ripple through the crowd, and I can sense the growing tension in the air.
“Raphael,” I murmur into the comm. “We need to clear the area. Things are about to get... complicated.”
“On it,” comes his cheerful reply. A moment later, the fire alarm blares to life. As humans and supernatural beings alike begin to file out of the café, Raphael’s voice rises above the din. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm and proceed to the nearest exit. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill.”
With both denizens and civilians out of harm’s way, I turn my attention back to the unfolding drama at the center of the room. War is practically vibrating with rage, his human guise slipping to reveal glimpses of his true, terrifying form. But the binding potion seems to be doing its job —his movements are sluggish, his power clearly diminished.
“Did you really think you could overthrow me?” Lucifer asks, his voice casual but edged with steel. “That you could trigger the apocalypse without my notice or consent?”
War lunges at Lucifer, but his movements are slow, uncoordinated. Lucifer sidesteps easily, a look of amused disdain on his face.
“Come now,” Lucifer tuts. “This is just embarrassing. I expected better from you, old friend.”
As I watch the confrontation unfold, I can’t help but marvel at the intricate dance Helena has orchestrated. Every move, every word seems calculated for maximum effect. It’s a masterclass in manipulation, and despite my misgivings about the entire plan, I find myself impressed.
But just as it seems victory is within our grasp, something shifts. War, his face a mask of fury and desperation, begins to laugh. It’s a terrible sound, filled with the echoes of countless battlefields and the screams of the dying.
“You fools,” he growls, his voice deepening to an inhuman register. “Did you really think it would be this easy? That I wouldn’t have a contingency plan?”
Before anyone can react, War throws his head back and roars. The sound shakes the very foundations of the café, shattering windows and sending furniture flying. And in its wake, I feel something fundamental shift in the fabric of reality.
“Oh no,” Helena breathes, her eyes wide with horror. “He’s calling them. The other Horsemen.”
To War’s left stands Famine, no gaunt figure in tattered robes, but a statuesque warrior with sharp, angular features. His burnished obsidian armor gleams with a hungry light, and his eyes burn with the intensity of a thousand famished souls.
To War’s right materializes Pestilence, a lithe, graceful fighter. A cruel smile plays on his lips, promising slow decay and suffering.
And behind War, looming tall and implacable, stands Death. Obsidian armor seems to absorb all light around it. His pale face is hauntingly beautiful, timeless and serene, a stark contrast to the deadly scythe gripped in his gauntleted hands.
The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, united in their terrible splendor. Each one a vision of deadly allure, their very presence warping the fabric of reality around them. The air grows heavy, charged with the promise of devastation and the end of all things.
“Well,” Lucifer says, his usual smirk replaced by a look of genuine concern. “This is an unexpected development.”
As the Horsemen advance, their power radiating in shocking waves, I realize with a sinking feeling that our carefully laid plan has just gone terribly, catastrophically wrong.
“Helena,” I say into the comm, my voice tight with urgency. “I believe it’s time for Plan B.”
There’s a moment of silence, then Helena’s voice comes through, uncharacteristically subdued. “That’s the thing, Halo Boy. There is no Plan B.”
As the words sink in, I lock eyes with Emilia across the room. In her gaze, I find my own struggle reflected in her eyes—fear and fortitude existing in perfect symmetry. Together, we face whatever comes.
The Horsemen continue their slow, inexorable advance. War, at their center, grins with malicious glee. “Now then,” he growls, his voice resonating with the power of countless conflicts. “Shall we discuss the terms of your surrender?”
Lucifer, to his credit, doesn’t back down. He stands tall, his own power flaring to match the Horsemen’s. “I don’t recall surrendering being on the agenda for today,” he says, his casual tone belied by the dangerous glint in his eye.
As the two forces face off, the very air seems to crackle with tension. I can feel the barriers between realms weakening, reality itself groaning under the strain of so much concentrated power.
“We need to do something!” Emilia’s voice comes through the comm, tight with urgency. “If they clash here, in the middle of the city...”
She doesn’t need to finish the thought. The destruction would be catastrophic, potentially triggering the very apocalypse we’re trying to prevent.
“I have an idea,” I say, the beginnings of a plan forming in my mind. “But it’s risky. And you’re not going to like it.”
“At this point,” Helena chimes in, “I think we’re open to suggestions. What’s the play, Halo Boy?”
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to propose. “We need to shift the battlefield. Move this confrontation somewhere less... populated.”
“Okay,” Raphael says slowly. “And how exactly do we do that?”
“We don’t,” I reply. “ I do.”
Before anyone can object, I step forward, placing myself between the Horsemen and Lucifer. I draw on my power, letting my human guise fall away. My wings unfurl, blazing with celestial light, and I allow my true form to manifest—a being of pure energy, with countless eyes and wheels within wheels.
“Enough,” I command, my voice resonating with divine authority. “This quarrel is not for the mortal realm. If you wish to fight, let it be on neutral ground.”
For a moment, everyone—Horsemen, Devil, and our own team alike—is struck silent by my revelation. Then War steps forward, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight.
“Well, well,” he growls. “The Archangel of Chastity, deigning to involve himself in earthly affairs. How... unexpected.”
I meet his gaze steadily, refusing to be cowed. “These are hardly ordinary circumstances,” I reply. “Now, will you agree to my terms, or shall I be forced to compel you?”
War’s laugh is like the clash of steel on steel. “You? Compel us? I’d like to see you try, little angel.”
I smile inwardly then, a cold, dangerous thing that has no place on a being of my station. “Oh, I was rather hoping you’d say that.”
With a thought, I expand my consciousness, reaching out to touch the minds of all present. In an instant, I show them glimpses of the devastation that would result from their clash—cities reduced to ash, oceans boiling, the very sky tearing apart. And beneath it all, the anguished cries of billions of souls caught in the crossfire.
When I release them, even the Horsemen look shaken. Lucifer, for his part, seems grudgingly impressed.
“Very well,” Death intones, speaking for the first time. His voice is the whisper of a last breath, the rattle in a dying throat. “We will adjourn to neutral ground. But know this, Archangel—this changes nothing. The apocalypse is coming, whether you will it or no.”
I nod, acknowledging the warning. “Perhaps. But not today, and not here.”
With a thought, I allow my true form to recede, my countless eyes and wheels within wheels folding back into the more familiar shape of my human guise. But I maintain a vestige of my celestial power, allowing my wings to remain manifest—a reminder to these beings of who and what I truly am. The massive, luminous appendages unfurl behind me, their soft glow a stark contrast to the darkness surrounding us.
With a gesture, I tear open a portal in the fabric of reality. Through it, I can see a vast, barren plain—a pocket dimension I created eons ago for just such a purpose.
“After you,” I say, gesturing towards the portal, my wings arching imposingly above me.
One by one, the Horsemen step through, followed by a reluctant Lucifer. As I move to follow them, a hand on my arm stops me. I turn to see Emilia’s upturned face, her widened eyes betraying both wonder and trepidation.
“Uriel,” she says softly. “Be careful.”
Something shifts inside me at her words, a warmth blooming in my chest that has nothing to do with celestial power. “I will,” I promise. Then, before I can think better of it, I lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Take care of each other,” I say, looking at our assembled team. “I’ll be back soon.”
With that, I step through the portal, leaving behind the mortal world and all its complications. As the gateway closes behind me, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever see it—or Emilia—again.
On the other side, I find myself on a vast, desolate plain. The sky above is a roiling mass of colors that have no place in the mortal spectrum, and the ground beneath my feet pulses with barely contained energy. This is a place between realms, a neutral ground where cosmic forces can clash without risking collateral damage.
The Horsemen and Lucifer are already squared off, power crackling around them like barely contained lightning. As I approach, all eyes turn to me.
“Well, Archangel,” War growls, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’ve brought us to your little playground. Now what?”
I straighten to my full height, allowing my power to flow freely. Here, unbound by the constraints of the mortal realm, I am closer to my true self than I’ve been in millennia. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Now,” I say, my voice resonating with divine authority, “we negotiate.”
Famine lets out a dry chuckle, the sound like rustling autumn leaves. “Negotiate? The time for negotiation is long past, Archangel. The seals are breaking. The end times are upon us.”
“Perhaps,” I concede. “But the manner and timing of that end are still in question. And I, for one, am not content to stand idly by while you tear apart the world my Father created.”
Pestilence steps forward, green mist swirling around him. “And what gives you the right to interfere? You, who have hidden away in your ivory tower for millennia, playing at being human?”
The accusation stings more than I care to admit. But before I can respond, Lucifer interjects.
“Oh please,” he drawls, examining his nails with feigned disinterest. “As if you four haven’t been just as absent. When was the last time any of you actually did your jobs? War, darling, there have been how many conflicts in the last century that you didn’t even bother to show up for?”
War snarls, taking a menacing step towards Lucifer. “Watch your tongue, Morningstar. You may rule Hell, but you have no power over us.”
“No?” Lucifer’s smile is all teeth. “Then why, pray tell, are you so eager to usurp my position? Feeling a bit... irrelevant, are we?”
The tension in the air ratchets up another notch, power crackling between the assembled beings like lightning. I can feel the fabric of this pocket dimension straining under the weight of so much concentrated cosmic force.
“Enough!” I command, my voice cutting through the growing chaos. “This posturing serves no one. We are here to find a solution, not to measure the size of our celestial appendages .”
There’s a moment of stunned silence, then Lucifer bursts out laughing. “Well, well,” he chuckles. “The Archangel of Chastity knows how to talk dirty. Will wonders never cease?”
I feel heat rise to my cheeks, but I push on. “The fact remains, the apocalypse cannot be allowed to proceed as planned. The casualties would be catastrophic, not just for humanity, but for all realms.”
“That’s rather the point, isn’t it?” Death interjects, his voice soft but carrying easily across the plain. “The end of all things. The Great Leveler.”
I turn to face Death, meeting those fathomless black eyes that have seen the end of countless lives. “Is it, though? Is that truly what you desire? The end of everything?”
Death is silent for a long moment, his gaze boring into me. When he finally speaks, his voice is thoughtful. “Desire has little to do with it, Archangel. We are what we are. We do what we must.”
“But must you?” I press, sensing a crack in the Horsemen’s united front. “You are beings of immense power and wisdom. Surely you can see that triggering the apocalypse now would be... premature.”
Famine tilts his head, curiosity glinting in his sunken eyes. “Premature? How so?”
I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “Look at humanity. At how far they’ve come, how much they’ve achieved. And yet, how much potential remains untapped. Would it not be more... satisfying to see that potential fulfilled before bringing about the end?”
Pestilence scoffs, green mist swirling agitatedly around him. “Humans. They’re a plague upon the earth. Why should we care about their potential?”
“Because,” Lucifer interjects, surprising me with his support, “they’re endlessly entertaining. Always coming up with new ways to sin, new vices to indulge in. I, for one, am not ready to give up my favorite playthings.”
War growls, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough of this prattle. We came here to fight, not to debate philosophy.”
“Did we?” I challenge, turning to face him directly. “Or did we come here to determine the fate of all creation? Because if it’s the latter, I suggest we approach it with the gravity it deserves.”
For a moment, I think War might attack me outright. His form flickers, showing glimpses of his true, terrifying visage. But then, unexpectedly, he laughs.
“You’ve grown a spine, Uriel,” he says, a hint of grudging respect in his tone. “Very well. Let’s hear your proposal.”
I blink, momentarily thrown by this sudden acquiescence. But I recover quickly, seizing the opportunity. “A stay of execution,” I say. “Give humanity more time. A century, perhaps. Let them continue to grow, to evolve. And in return...”
I hesitate, knowing that what I’m about to offer goes against everything I’ve stood for. But the stakes are too high for half measures.
“In return,” I continue, my voice steady despite my inner turmoil, “I will step down as the Archangel of Chastity. I will walk among humanity, not as an observer, but as a participant. I will know love, and loss, and all the messy, wonderful, terrible things that make the human experience unique.”
The silence that follows my declaration is deafening. Even Lucifer looks shocked, his usual smirk replaced by an expression of genuine surprise.
“You would give up your position?” Death asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your divine purpose?”
I nod, feeling a strange mix of terror and exhilaration at the prospect. “I would. Because I’ve come to realize that there is no higher purpose than to truly understand those we seek to judge.”
The Horsemen exchange glances, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, War turns back to me, his expression unreadable.
“And what guarantee do we have that you’ll hold to this bargain?” he demands. “That this isn’t some celestial trick?”
I straighten, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “I give you my word. And I will seal it with a binding oath, sworn on the very essence of creation.”
Even War looks taken aback by this. A binding oath of that magnitude is not something to be undertaken lightly. It would tie my very existence to the fulfillment of the promise.
“You would go that far?” Famine asks, a note of what might be respect in his voice. “For them ?”
I think of Emilia, of her courage and compassion. Of Raphael and his easy laughter. Of Helena and her fierce loyalty. Of all the humans I’ve observed over the millennia, with their capacity for both great good and terrible evil.
“Yes,” I say simply. “I would.”
There’s another long moment of silence as the Horsemen confer. Even Lucifer seems to be holding his breath, watching the proceedings with uncharacteristic intensity.
Finally, Death steps forward. “We accept your terms, Archangel,” he intones. “One century of reprieve, in exchange for your oath and your position. But know this —when the time comes, there will be no further negotiations. The end will come, as it must.”
I nod, a weight lifting from my shoulders even as a new one settles in its place. “I understand. And I accept.”
With that, I begin the ritual of the binding oath. The words are ancient, older than time itself, and as I speak them, I can feel the very fabric of reality shifting around us. Power flows through me, raw and primal, as I tie my essence to the promise I’ve made.
When it’s done, I feel... different. Lighter in some ways, heavier in others. The mantle of the Archangel of Chastity, a role I’ve held for millennia, slips away. In its place, I feel a new connection to the mortal realm, a tether that both grounds me and fills me with a sense of vertigo.
“It is done,” I say, my voice rough with the aftermath of the ritual.
War nods, a gleam of what might be respect in his eyes. “So it is. One century, Uriel.”
With that, the Horsemen begin to fade, their forms blurring and dissipating like smoke on the wind. Soon, only Lucifer and I remain in the pocket dimension.
“Well,” Lucifer says, breaking the silence. “That was certainly more exciting than the business meeting I was expecting. I don’t suppose you’d consider coming to work for me? We could use someone with your... negotiation skills.”
I can’t help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting me. “Thank you, but no. I believe I have a date with humanity to keep.”
Lucifer shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Can’t blame a devil for trying. Do give my best to that delightful social worker of yours. I have a feeling things are about to get very interesting for you two.”
Before I can respond, he’s gone in a puff of brimstone-scented smoke. I shake my head, marveling at the strange turn my existence has taken.
With a thought, I reopen the portal back to the mortal realm. As I step through, I feel a rush of sensations I’ve never experienced before—the cool night air on my skin, the scent of the city, the distant sound of traffic. Everything seems sharper, more immediate.
I find myself back in the DeLux Café, now empty save for our team. Emilia rushes towards me, her eyes wide with concern.
“Uriel! Are you alright? What happened? We’ve been worried sick!”
As I look at her, I’m struck anew by her beauty, both inside and out. And for the first time, I allow myself to fully acknowledge the depth of my feelings for her.
“I’m fine,” I assure her, reaching out to take her hand. The touch sends a jolt through me, more intense than I’ve ever felt before. “Better than fine, actually. I have... quite a story to tell you all.”
As our team gathers around, eager to hear what transpired, I can’t help but smile. One century to experience humanity in all its messy, glorious complexity. One century to love, to learn, to truly live .
I may no longer be the Archangel of Chastity, but standing here, with Emilia’s hand in mine and a future full of unknowns stretching out before me, I’ve never felt more blessed.