Jisoo
A spark in the stars
I’d seen a lot in my time — demons ripping through realms, celestial gates collapsing, blood offerings that turned the skies red.
But nothing… nothing compared to standing before the Almighty. Even I — once an angel, now cloaked in shadows and sins — felt it in my bones. The weight of divine judgment. The echo of ancient light.
He was everything and nothing. A shape made of eternity. A gaze that made your soul tremble.
And Rheon stood before him — unflinching.
“I know why you’ve come,” the Almighty said, voice like thunder cracking through silence. “You seek the one who should not have existed. The Archangel who fell in love with a demon queen. Who bore the child that straddled realms.”
Rheon’s jaw clenched.
“His name was Elarion. And he was Seori’s father.”
The Almighty’s expression did not change.
“He was never meant to bear a child. Let alone with her. He disobeyed every law written in Heaven.”
Rheon stepped forward, fury crackling behind his eyes.
“Then if you are truly Almighty, all-seeing, all-forgiving — why can’t you forgive him? Why must Seori suffer the price of a love that was never hers to pay?”
The Almighty didn’t speak.
The silence felt like the sky had stopped breathing. Then Rheon raised the scroll. His voice rang out, clear, low, determined:
“A soul of divine flame may be summoned from the beyond through the gate of starlight, should one of equal blood and intent, bear the weight of his sacrifice.”
I felt the words ripple through the stars. Even Heaven paused to listen.
Rheon stared up at the Almighty, shadows dancing in his irises.
“You can do this. You will do this. For her. For Seori.”
The Almighty looked to the endless sky. I saw the conflict there — ancient, cold, divine.
And then…He sighed.
Like the stars themselves softened.
“If I bring him back… he can no longer be what he once was,” the Almighty said. “No throne. No wings of purest light. No title of Archangel.”
Rheon bowed his head.
“Then let him fall.”
The Almighty turned to him, and for the first time, there was something human in his voice.
“He will not be a demon… but not quite an angel. A Fallen Celestial. He will walk the realm between. As your Queen once did.”
Rheon didn’t hesitate.
“It’s enough.”
The Almighty lifted his hand, and the sky opened — a swirling gate of light and stardust, a pulsing memory of something once divine.
The chant began — not just in words, but in light.
I joined Rheon in reciting it, our voices braided in flame and shadow, Heaven and Hell colliding in harmony:
“From the flame that burned, From the soul that fell, From the blood that bound two realms —Return.”
The light grew blinding. And then—A figure stepped from the brilliance. Golden hair scorched with silver. Eyes the color of dusk and dawn.
Elarion.
Alive. But changed. He looked at Rheon, then at me. Then finally — he felt her.
His daughter.
A tear slid down his cheek.
“I’m… home?”
And Rheon smiled, exhausted but triumphant.
“Yes. You’re going home to her.