Astrael woke up drenched in sweat, something had shifted in him, he could feel it. He slowly rose from the scorched wood floor of the derelict church, his legs stiff, his body aching. The familiar hum of his light was weak, almost faint. It was as if the battle with the ghouls had drained him more than he realized.

  “Hey, sleepyhead, it’s been an hour since I found you in the forest,” Seraphiel’s voice rang out from the pulpit. A divine ring, covered in eyes, floated serenely around her. It glowed softly, radiating light, the only source of illumination in the dim church. Astrael couldn’t help but feel the weight of it—he had only seen those rings worn by seraphims and higher, a tool designed to recharge divine energy.

  "You seemed rather drained," she added, her voice light but with an edge of concern.

  Astrael blinked at her, still groggy and disoriented. “What happened? I—” He paused, the weight of his thoughts pressing on him. He couldn't remember the details, but something about the night, about the fight, felt wrong. The encounter left a residue in his mind—disjointed images of voices, eyes... He couldn’t make sense of it.

  Seraphiel smiled softly, not letting her gaze linger on him too long. “You’ve been through a lot today. You need rest. I’m sure you’re just exhausted.”

  He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the fog from his mind. “I don’t remember… what happened after the ghouls?”

  Seraphiel’s face remained calm, but there was a subtle shift in her demeanor. “You were in the forest. You must have fought off a few more ghouls on the way here. I didn’t see much, but you didn’t seem injured.” Her eyes flicked toward the door, the subtle shift in her posture suggesting she was choosing her words carefully. “We need to be careful. There’s something bigger at play here.”

  Astrael didn’t respond right away. The exhaustion gnawing at him was real, but so was that unsettling sense that something was off. He studied her face, looking for any sign that she knew more than she was letting on, but her expression remained the same: serene, controlled, a mask of confidence.

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  "Right," he said quietly. "Something bigger. So, what now?"

  Seraphiel rose from her seat on the pulpit, the eyes on her ring shifting like they were watching him, their light pulsing in time with her movements. “We investigate. But you should stay back for now. You’re not at full strength.” She offered him a knowing glance. “I’ll handle this for now.”

  Astrael hesitated, his instincts pushing him to argue, but the faint hum of his light—barely there—held him back. “I’ll rest,” he said, settling back against the crumbling wall. “But I’ll be ready when you need me.”

  Seraphiel’s smile returned, though there was a coolness in her eyes now, as if she were silently assessing him. “Good. We’ll need you more than ever. Oh and be careful about smiting, you angels can maybe do it about 100 times before you gotta go back to heaven and replenish, besides, it doesn’t work on red eyed demons and above”

  “Could’ve gave me a heads up”

  “Thought the academy would do that” Seraphiel leaned back before hopping off the pulpit. “I already called in the support, everyone’s memories will be wiped by tomorrow, that sheriff won’t know a thing”

  “And Casel? You saved him right?” Astrael got up to his feet

  “Astrael, we can’t save everyone, Casel was dead when we found him, his light was ripped out of him leaving him mortal, and well.. 2 gunshot wounds finished him off”

  “I..see… so we lost another cherub”

  “For now, just rest up in heaven and I’ll call you when I catch wind of another case” Seraphiel looked at him, giving him a reassuring smile as she snapped her fingers, sending him back up

  “You didn’t have to lie to him Seraphiel”

  “I just want to protect our next generation from witnessing it when the light in their eyes still burn bright, i’ll tell him one day, Archangel Uriel”

  “Of course” Uriel simply nodded “and this symbol, we both know it well, from the war of the beginning”

  “The last time we saw it… it heralded a fall,” she whispered. “Let’s hope we’re not repeating history.”

  Uriel’s wings unfolded, not fully, but enough to hint at his rank. “Hope,” he said, “is for mortals. We act. Let us hope this time, the stars in the sky do not increase”

  He turned to leave, light trailing behind him in his wake. Seraphiel stayed behind, alone again in the ruined church, the light from her ring casting long, sacred shadows across the cracked altar.