By Charles E. Smith
Across the infinite reaches of reality, certain gifted individuals have
long been able to tap into the ebb and flow of the great Symphonies of the
universe. For eons, these individuals have observed worlds without end, and
in these worlds have been certain constants. In nearly every reality, the
brave and heroic Archangel Michael has stood against the traitorous forces
of Lucifer, the Shining One, whose selfish pride and ambition leads him
into revolt. In some worlds the forces of good and evil are evenly
balanced, while in others one side or the other holds the dominance.
Oh to be sure, those who can see across reality will tell you that there
are variations on this great pattern. Get one to talk and they'll tell you
of worlds where Michael was the one who turned against God. They'll tell
you of a place where Armageddon came and went, and the tyrant Saminga holds
dominance over a broken world; another world, where a hubristic Lucifer
triumphed at the Rebellion and lords over a decaying reality; or a third
place, where Lucifer was slain by Michael late into the War, and the human
woman Lilith became Queen of Hell. But one thing has remained constant
through nearly all the infinite variations of reality: Metatron, Voice of
God, was slain at or shortly after the Rebellion.
But there is a place where the Metatron still lives. Sit ye down children,
and hear the tale of the exception to the rule...
The sweet scent of jasmine blew through the valley on the winds created by
Janus, caressing the two figures who stood together at the base of the
shining, golden connection that would in later times be known as Jacob's
Ladder. One figure was light and airy, as ephermal as the winds, and as
elusive to the eye; more a presence in the mind than a physical being. The
other was very solid, very real. A great serpent, formed of brilliant white
that was reflected in every hue, every intensity, by the near-invisible
scales of his being. White, feathered wings extended from this being,
creating a prismatic halo about him, and six eyes, each blazing the deep
blue-white of a star, stared intently at the presence that was there/not there.
"Metatron my friend, I have a question for you." The tone was friendly and
warm from the serpent's mouth.
"A question?" Soft as wind chimes, distant as time, the presence's voice.
"Yes." A pause, then a look as if pain crossed the great serpent's
features. "Forgive me for troubling one such as you but I am curious. Have
you thought about the questions of humanity and the corporeal plane?"
"Question?" The presence turned to the shining serpent. "I was not aware
there were questions to be asked, Lucifer. God made His decree known."
Lucifer nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes He has. But my nature compels me to seek
full illumination on the matter. It is the nature of Light to illumine that
which is not fully known, to bring all matters to full understanding. There
are many amongst our brethren who harbor questions, even doubts, in their
hearts. The younger ones question amongst themselves why we were ordered
away from the Corporeal, and even the older ones have their concerns. They..."
"Why do they not then come before God, and ask of Him?"
If the Seraph was ruffled at being interrupted he did not show it. "It is a
grave matter to come before one's Creator, especially when one has
questions about a decision He has made. If an angel feels awe at speaking
to her Archangel, how much more must she feel coming before the Majesty of
"Perhaps." The presence's distant feminine voice seemed skeptical, as much
as one of her stature could be at any rate.
"And you, Metatron?"
"Surely, you could be of assistance in bringing these concerns to light.
You are the Voice of God. You enjoy a closeness with Him that not even Yves
can claim. Surely you of us all would be able to explain God's thinking on
The distant voice turned flat. "That is not for me to say Lucifer. Not
without His permission."
"His permission? Ah, but your life is determined by His permission, is it
not? More than any of us, you are bound by Him, your will not your own.
Your thoughts, your feelings, your ~self~, are tied to Him. Do you not ever
wish that that great honor and burden you bear could pass, even for a
moment, and you could enjoy the wind in your wings? The sun on your scales?
A dip in the ocean? It must be hard to remain here, to know that your very
being could be pushed aside at a moment's notice for you to project the
Voice. I cannot imagine what it must take to be you."
"I do not regret what I am. Do you regret the burden of being the Bringer
of Light? Do you weary of illuminating all the darkest depths of all
questions and thoughts?"
The Seraph's smile was wry. "Fair enough. But I must ask your personal
opinion, in the name of gathering all facets of Truth. What do you,
personally, think of the humans?"
The Voice seemed a bit surprised. "They are God's creations. As such, their
purpose will be revealed when God decides. Destiny is Yves's to monitor. I
just trust that our Creator will make all known in due time."
The Seraph developed a frown, one quick to pass but still noticeable. "I
see. So you bear no animosity towards these humans, despite their...lack of
refinement and elevation?"
The Voice was silent a moment, then "That is your task Lucifer. Yours and
the others. You to bring the light that will guide them, Raphael to aid
their search for knowledge, David to bring them together and strengthen
them. All of us have our tasks. Love and Fire, Valor and Destiny, all of
the Words were granted by God to guide all of his creations to perfect
harmony. But you know this. Why do you ask these questions?"
Lucifer looked at Metatron for a long moment. "I have said--"
"No. You have spoken of the duty of your Word. You have not explained the
personal interest you seem to have in humanity or in getting me to express
some sort of doubt in our Creator's intent. Nor have you explained the
doubt *you* seem to be feeling towards our Creator. Is there something you
wish to speak of Lucifer?"
Lucifer's frown was deeper for a moment, then he spoke carefully. "Not here
I don't. I would ask of you to come with me to speak with some other
angels, angels who have doubts. It is my hope that perhaps you can be
persuaded to speak with them. If you were to come perhaps some progress
could be made."
Metatron was silent a moment, then tilted her head. "Very well. I will do
what I can, and speak with their Archangels as well." The ethereal presence
floated past Lucifer in the direction his extended wing indicated. She was
barely past him when she felt the stabbing pain in her back. As she cried
out, Lucifer's face was at her side.
"I am sorry Metatron, but if you will not stand with me then I have no
choice. I cannot have you speaking with the others. Answers must be
demanded of God without interference from those, like yourself, too content
to raise your voices and be heard." Metatron slumped, hearing the words
through a red haze of pain. Lucifer stared at her for a long moment, to be
sure, and then spread his wings. It was time to speak with Beleth again, to
try to lure her as he'd lured her lover. The more angels with him when the
time came, the better his chances in his audacious, but to his mind
necessary, plan. The death of the Voice of God would have to be explained,
somehow, but perhaps if he moved fast enough the investigation could be
lost in the greater press of events...
Without warning he was flying, and not under his own power. The burning
heat and the PAIN screamed through every fiber of the Seraph's being. He
couldn't tell up from down, and barely felt it when he smashed face-first
into one of the gentle mountains that sheltered the Valley of the Voice. It
wasn't until after he'd rolled down the side of the mountain, tumbled over
the rocks in the foothills, and smacked into the valley floor that he was
able to begin blinking out the floating spots in his vision.
"LUCIFER!!!" The voice...and the Voice, echoed about the valley, slamming
into the Seraph's abused senses at all levels. It was a long moment before
he could lift his smoking, bloodied head and blink his six eyes into focus
on something impossible.
Before him rose Metatron, the Voice of God, hurt but still alive. ~That
cannot be. I struck her down cleanly!~ The there/not there presence was
radiating a deep-blue light about her being, tinged with gold, and the
Symphony was ringing like a gong about her. "DID YOU THINK THAT YOU COULD
DESTROY MY VOICE WITH IMPUNITY, BRINGER OF LIGHT?!?" As Lucifer gaped, his
jaw hurting from slamming into the mountain, the Voice continued. "IN THE
NAME OF YOUR AMBITION AND PRIDE YOU HAVE STRUCK YOUR FELLOW ANGEL. YOU
SHALL BE MADE TO ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIME!"
Lucifer looked up, his eyes slitted. "I am not the only one who must make
"SILENCE!!! YOU HAVE THIS ONE CHANCE TO MAKE REPENTANCE, ELSE PUNISHMENT
SHALL BEFALL YOU."
Lucifer glared bitterly at Metatron, and at that which she represented,
then spread his aching wings, lifted his battered and cut body, and flew
off. It was time to gather his forces, incomplete as he thought they were.
They would see who would repent this day!
"SO BE IT."
The Disturbance rang about Heaven, startling all of the angels. From the
highest pinnacle of the Council Spires to the deepest depths of the
Catacombs, from as distant as the Far Side of the Marches to as near as the
Eternal City, all heard the Disturbance. It was a sound never heard before
in the Heavens, in the corporeal universe, or in the Marches. Angels looked
up in wonderment, and not a little fear among many. None knew what it was,
though in the deepest sanctum of the Library, Yves looked up from a book in
his hands and sighed in profound sadness.
From the west came the Lightbringer, flying in haste from the holiest
place in Heaven. His shining form was wreathed in smoke, and blood seared
the ground as his charred feathers carried him at best speed towards his
allies in rebellion. While Heaven reeled, Lucifer gathered his followers,
angels who had been seduced by the promise of answers to the questions that
gnawed their hearts, or whispered allusions to great rewards for those who
followed him, allusions which fed the seeds of dark desire within them.
Amongst their number could be counted the great as well as the lowly.
Andrealphus, Archangel of Love was there, his beautiful face conflicted and
unsure, unwilling to grant that Lucifer's words about his Word were true
but unable to just back away. Nearby stood Blandine, the great winged white
wolf silent as always, but her golden eyes filled with concern for the one
she loved above all others. Belial, he of the flaming eyes and strong arm,
took one look at Lucifer then frowned and flexed his arms, while nearby, Kobal's merry face twisted with
an anticipatory grin. Dominic, whose chrysantheum-white eyes took in all
from under jade-green scaled eyebrows, stood aloof while the great winged
elephant that was his Cherub servitor Asmodeus stood stolidly, his posture
belying his inner confusion. Raphael, the shining Archangel of Knowledge,
her Elohite face impassive, listened to the bitter mumblings of Meserach,
the high-ranking Cherub of Wind, die off as Lucifer arrived. All turned to
face the Shining One who had won their loyalty.
"My friends, the time has come!" Lucifer's charred wings spread wide,
barely discernible in the powerful halo of white light he projected.
"Though it is sooner than we had hoped, and with fewer numbers, we must
move now to force God to answer all of our questions and doubts! I have
just come from speaking with Metatron herself! She will not join with us,
and she made clear her intentions to speak with the other Archangels about
our cause. This cannot be allowed! Rise up, rise up, all you brave angels!
Rise and make Heaven ring with our shouts as we subdue the complacent and
bring all of Heaven in unity to demand answers of God!" The resounding
cheers nearly deafened the Archangel of Light. "ONWARDS!!!" Lucifer lifted
off, and his loyalists behind him under the darkening skies of Heaven.
The Rebellion had begun.
The battle raged long and hard. The angels loyal to God, stunned by the
betrayal of their peers, rallied under the banner of Michael, Firstborn of
the Angels. Thunder cracked and wind howled as angel confronted angel.
There an Elohite faced off against its friend, who had become a twisted
creature of delusion and madness. A Kyriotate fell, laid low by the claws
of a Calabite she'd once known as her Ofanite lover. Blood and death, chaos
and war, all sullied the eternal beauty of Heaven. The streets of the
Eternal City ran with the gleaming blood and Forces of angel and demon
alike. Some fought with strategy and cunning, innovating the first use of
terrain and lighting togain the advantage. Others charged in with wild
swings and shouts of fury and pain. The Symphony rang with the clash of
angels as it has not rang since, and as some say it will not ring until
Armageddon comes to end what began that day.
In the end the fierce struggle of betrayal and hope, ambition and sorrow,
blood and death, came down to two. In a wide street of the Eternal City,
the buildings shattered in the fighting, smoking from the torches of the
demons, there stood two beings. One was a being of purest Light, the
blinding aura dimmed perhaps by the blood that stained the white scales,
but the starry eyes burning with fierce determination. The other was a
being of purest Shadow, with chains like weights upon his chest and brawny
arms, and a gaze that pierced the aura of light. Around them all was
silent. The survivors of both sides; hurt, limping, watched as the two
beings faced off. The wind whistled through the broken buildings as they
stared at each other.
"So it has come to this." The figure of Light looked contemptously at his
chained foe. "Michael, do you not realize what the Tyrant has done to you?!
He has warped you, my brother, First among Angels! He has changed you from
the bright and pure Seraph you were into this...this mutation! This gross
mockery of an angel! Is this what you want to be?! Brother..." Here a wing
extended. "There has been much hurt this day. Much suffering. Do not let it
continue. Join with me. Let us, as a family, come before God with our
grievances. Let us, as one, demand redress, demand the return of all those
who needlessly died this day." Lucifer's voice was filled with hope, with
pleading for his elder brother's understanding.
But the Shadow, the Shadow shook his head. "You are a traitor to God,
Lucifer! You and all your followers! It was you who brought about the
needless death and suffering! It was you who rent Heaven in your pride
and your arrogance! And it is you who must make redress!" Michael, First
of Angels, First of the Seraphim, Most Holy of the Most Holy, and now First
of the Malakim, the warrior-angels, assumed a combat pose, his bloody axe
dripping. Slowly, ever so slowly, Lucifer's charred wing drooped.
"So be it." And with that the fight began.
Long and hard that battle raged.The ringing of Michael's axe against the
blade and shield of solid light that Lucifer had conjured echoed across
Heaven. Resonances and Songs blasted apart the streets, leaving only dust,
rubble, and deep pits in their wake. Followers of both leaders scattered as
the fight took to the skies, rending the black thunderclouds of God's Wrath
with red lightning and streaks of fire. At times the Light was so intense
that all were forced to turn their eyes away. At other times, the Shadow
obscured all vision. The fear that gripped the onlookers was so total, even
for the impassive Elohim, that none dared intervene. Only two were able to
see past the Light and the Shadow to the fight within, and Metatron and
Yves did not speak.
Finally, after countless hours, after a struggle so fierce that the
universe itself would feel it for ages to come, the Light lay broken at the
feet of the Shadow. The spell of combat broken, those who had followed the
Lightbringer clenched themselves in dread and terror, wondering what their
Fates would be. Those who stood by Michael stood in breathless anticipation
of what would come next, what Michael would do. But it was not Michael who
Into the tense moment floated Metatron. The there/not there presence
instantly commanded the attention of all as she turned her head to the
fallen Lucifer. The Lightbringer looked at her through eyes that bled with
his life-force and burned with tears; tears of pain, and of failure, and of
impotent rage. Tears that spoke of a towering pride forcibly humbled. He
lifted his head and all could hear the serpentine tongue hiss through the
broken and ragged halo that surrounded him still.
Out of Metatron came the Voice: "YOU HAVE FAILED LUCIFER! IN YOUR PRIDE
AND AMBITION YOU HAVE DARED TO RAISE YOUR HAND AGAINST YOUR CREATOR AND
AGAINST YOUR SIBLINGS. FOR THAT EFFRONTERY, FOR THE SIN OF PRIDE, I HEREBY
BANISH YOU AND YOUR FOLLOWERS! YOU SOUGHT A PLACE BEYOND ME, A PLACE WHERE
YOU WERE FREE OF ME? SO BE IT. GO TO THAT PLACE THEN, CURSED AND FAILED
SERPENT. NO LONGER ARE YOU BRINGER OF LIGHT!" A cry of pain then, as
Lucifer's very being twisted, mutating into a hideous mockery of the Seraph
he once was. The blood on his face settled into his scales, staining them a
dark and smoky red. His halo was ripped from him, exposing his deformity to
all as his charred wings lost their feathers and became leathery and black,
and his eyes became empty pools of nothing, as his brow ridges grew sharp
horns and his skin beneath the red scales became tough, raw, and corded. A
scream of anguish seared the ears of all observing as the First Balseraph
writhed in agony. Metatron
stretched forth her wings, the blue-gold aura dazzling.
"GO TO THE PLACE THAT WILL FOREVER BE YOUR HOME, THING OF DARKNESS! GO,
YOU AND YOUR KIN, AND TROUBLE THE BRIGHT CREATION NO LONGER!" As all
watched the air began to slowly ripple. At first it could be mistaken for a
smoke eddy from one of the many leveled buildings of the Eternal City, but
that ripple slowly spread, like a stain of oil on water, and as it spread
it darkened. In years to come none would be able to explain it, but seeing
that ripple blossom into the dark void it became, into the pain and
suffering that would become Hell, spread a shadow on every heart watching,
yea, even the brightest of souls. From the ripple came a wind, but nothing
like any Janus had ever made. No, this wind chilled the soul and blasted
the flesh. This wind sucked into itself, greedy and desperate. First it
pulled Lucifer, King of Darkness and Father of Lies into its' chill
embrace, swallowing him into the Hell he'd been condemned to. Then one by
one it reached out for his followers. Blan
dine, her dream of love twisted and broken by the Serpent's lies, was
first. Belial, still covered in the blood of slain Gabriel, followed.
Raphael, her thirst for the knowledge she'd been promised having betrayed
her, was next, followed soon by the prankster Kobal and the stern Dominic,
who railed as he was dragged to his Fate. Others followed: Andrealphus and
Makatiel, Meserach and Marc and Gebbeleth all went, joined by one-third of
the Host of Heaven. When the ripple finally dissipated, closing as it had
opened, it was a much reduced and darkened Heaven that Metatron beheld.
"AND UNTO YOU, MY CHILDREN, FALLS THE HARDEST TASK. LUCIFER WILL NOT BE
IDLE FOREVER. IN HIS HEART HE WILL SEEK VENGEANCE AND HE WILL STRIKE AT YOU
AND AT THE HUMANS THAT ARE YOUR CHARGE NOW. YOU MUST STRENGTHEN YOURSELVES,
AND HARDEN YOUR HEARTS AGAINST YOUR ONCE-BRETHREN, ELSE YOU WILL SURELY
FALL, AND WITH YOU THE UNIVERSE."
After a moment for that grim statement to sink in, Metatron turned to
Michael. "MICHAEL, MY GOOD AND LOYAL SON. YOU HAVE STOOD AS THE CHAMPION
OF HEAVEN AND SUCH IS NOW YOUR TITLE, FROM NOW UNTIL THE END. YOU HAVE FELT
THE SHADOW OF THE TAINT LUCIFER BROUGHT TO THE HEAVENS AND YOU HAVE
RESISTED ITS' SIREN CALL, TURNING THE SHADOW INTO THE RIGHTEOUS FURY THAT
STRUCK DOWN THE SERPENT. AS SUCH, I NAME YOU THE ARCHANGEL OF SHADOW,
COMMANDER OF THE HOSTS OF HEAVEN."
Michael knelt and slammed his fist against his chest. "As you command, my
Lord, so shall it be."
Metatron turned her head. "ASMODEUS." Her wing pointed at the Cherub, who
flinched and lowered his head. The Voice turned gentle. "RISE MY CHILD.
YOU FELT THE TEMPTATION OF LUCIFER BUT YOU WERE STRONG ENOUGH TO TURN AWAY
FROM HIS LIES. HAVING EXPERIENCED LIGHT AND DARKNESS, I NAME YOU THE
ARCHANGEL OF THE BALANCE, AND TO YOU FALLS THE TASK OF PREVENTING ANY MORE
ANGELS FROM FALLING INTO THE PIT WITH LUCIFER. FEEL NO SHAME MY SON, AND
TURN YOUR GRIEF AND PAIN INTO THE STRENGTH I KNOW LIES WITHIN YOU."
The elephant-cherub's eyes were wide and startled, then he lifted his
trunk. "I--I will try, Father."
A turn. "NOVALIS, MY DAUGHTER. YOU WHOSE KINDNESS EXCEEDES ALL OTHERS. TO
YOU FALLS THE TASK OF TAKING UP WHERE OTHERS HAVE LEFT OFF. GABRIEL IS
DEAD, AS IS JORDI. I EXPAND YOUR WORD NOW, TO THAT OF NATURE. YOU SHALL
GOVERN THE FAUNA AS WELL AS THE FLORA, AND MAINTAIN THE DELICATE BALANCE OF
THE UNIVERSE'S ECOSYSTEMS. IT IS A GREAT CHALLENGE BUT I KNOW YOU CAN
HANDLE IT, MY LITTLE FLOWER."
Novalis's mouth was wide, the enormity of what her new task would be
settling on her like an iron weight. It took a moment before she could
barely nod in response, feeling all of nature begin to stir and connect
within her being.
Metatron fixed her eyes on Beleth, whose tears were watering the ground and
whose sobs had continued unabated since Blandine had been sucked into the
void. The angel's eyes were soft, and the Voice was filled with compassion.
"MY DAUGHTER. I KNOW THE PAIN FEELS GREATER THAN YOU CAN POSSIBLY BEAR BUT
MY LOVE SURROUNDS YOU ALWAYS, AS DOES THE LOVE OF YOUR BRETHREN. FOR A TIME
I MUST GIVE TO YOU AN ONEROUS TASK. BLANDINE YET LIVES, AND WILL TWIST THE
DREAMS OF MORTALS TOWARDS DEBASEMENT, USING THEIR OWN DESIRES TO BAIT THEM.
YOU MUST FRIGHTEN THE MORTALS AWAY FROM THESE SEDUCTIVE DREAMS AND FROM THE
OTHER TEMPTATIONS OF THE FALLEN. BE STRONG, BELETH, AND KNOW THAT THE PAIN
AND THE DESPAIR WILL PASS UNDER THE LOVE OF YOUR FELLOW ANGELS AND MYSELF."
Beleth did not look up from her tears at all.
With a compassionate glance at her, Metatron looked then at Baal. The third
angel lowered his head in reverence, the aura of Metatron's light gleaming
from his chrysantheum scales. "BAAL, NOBLE WARRIOR. YOUR COURAGE STANDS AS
A SHINING EXAMPLE TO ALL, MY SON. TRULY HAVE I NAMED YOU VALOR. YOUR
COURAGE MUST BE THE BEACON TO ALL OF MY CHILDREN, AND TO YOU I GIVE THE
TASK OF INSPIRING THE BRAVERY MORTALS AND ANGELS ALIKE SHALL NEED IN TIMES
"I shall not fail you, Father."
Metatron stretched a wing, and the crowd of angels parted as if an
invisible hand had separated them, revealing a small figure. The small
figure raised an eyebrow and then stepped forward at Metatron's nod,
revealing herself to a pale Elohite with striking gray eyes. The Power came
forward and knelt before the Voice of God.
"MARIEL, ANGEL OF MEMORY. YOU REMEMBER ALL THINGS, WITH A MIND AS
EXPANSIVE AS THE HEART WITHIN YOU. NOW I MUST TASK YOU WITH USING THAT MIND
TO COMPREHEND AND SHARE ALL ASPECTS OF LIGHT WITH THE WORLD." Off of
Mariel's widened eyes, Metatron nodded. "YES. I HEREBY PROMOTE YOU TO
ARCHANGEL OF LIGHT. GO FORTH INTO THE WORLD, MY NEW LIGHTBRINGER, AND
ILLUMINATE THE PATH TO SALVATION."
"Yes, my Father." Even an Elohite's dispassion could not conceal the
stunned Mariel's reaction, which was hidden by the blazing aura of white
light that sprang from her suddenly radiant form.
Metatron turned to another Elohite, one whose severe, knife-edged face
could not conceal the sorrow in his eyes. "JEAN OF THE LIGHTNING. YOU ARE
THE SPARK OF INSPIRATION, BUT YOU MUST BE MORE NOW. YOU MUST TAKE UP THE
TASK OF TEACHING AND ENCOURAGING LEARNING, GUIDING THE MORTALS PAST THE
DARKNESS OF IGNORANCE AND INTO HEAVEN'S EMBRACE. I GIVE TO YOU THE WORD OF
THE FALLEN RAPHAEL: THE WORD OF KNOWLEDGE. YOU WILL FIND SOLACE, MY SON,
Jean did not react, nor reply.
With a compassionate look, Metatron turned to Oannes and Janus. "THE
WATERS AND THE WIND, BROTHERS AND FRIENDS. THE ONE PLACID, THE OTHER
EVER-SHIFTING. JANUS, I CHARGE YOU WITH THE TASK OF INSPIRING MORTALS BY
BRINGING DIVINE CHAOS, AND SWEEPING AWAY THAT WHICH IS OLD AND STAGNANT.
OANNES, YOUR WATERS SHALL CALM THE CHAOS ONCE IT HAS PASSED, HEALING THE
WOUNDS AND BRINGING THE FOUNDATIONS FOR LONG-TERM HOPE. MY SONS YOU MUST
WORK TOGETHER, CHAOS AND ORDER AS ONE. I KNOW YOU CAN."
Oannes's watery-blue form shifted as he manifested eyes and hands. "Yes
Father." He looked at Janus, and the brawny Ofanite grinned and nodded. "Oh
yes, it will be done. The Wind and The Waters will keep the world safe
Father, never fear."
Metatron nodded and turned to face a frowning, bechained Malakite, whose
hand rested on the pommel of a great broadsword of whitish-blue energy.
"URIEL. YOU ARE SERIOUS EVEN IN TIMES OF PEACE, AND DOUGHTY IN TIMES OF
WAR. YOU HAVE BEEN CHARGED WITH MAINTAINING THE PURITY OF EXISTENCE, AND
NOW THE PURITY YOU STAND FOR HAS BEEN DEFILED. MY SON, YOU MUST BE THE
CUTTING EDGE, STRIKING DOWN THE IMPURITIES THAT LUCIFER AND HIS ILK WOULD
BRING. WILL YOU DO THIS FOR ME?"
Uriel knelt, lowering his head. His voice, like the iron that lay beneath
fallen David's mountains, rang out. "I shall not allow any to defile the
creation, to undo the purity of Your work. You have my word and my oath." A
new chain appeared about the Malakite's mighty form, binding tight about
Metatron's aura flared brighter, then she turned to Eli. "AND THE
CREATION. THAT IS YOUR TASK MY WILD, ARTISAN SON. THE BRIGHT CREATION,
TENDED BY YOUR HAND. THE OTHERS MAY FIGHT IN REALMS OF WAR AND THE
PHYSICAL, BUT TO YOU FALLS THE DUTY TO PREVENT THE ENTROPY THAT WOULD
CONSUME ALL, AND BEFORE WHICH ALL ARE HELPLESS WITHOUT YOUR AID."
"On it, Father." The Mercurian who had bound himself to Creation for the
sake of Creation had a strange, quirky smile that many found off-putting in
the face of the events of that day, but which others claimed was just Eli's
optimism asserting itself.
Metatron's face assumed a smile, then the Voice rang out. "MY SERVANT
METATRON SHALL BE AS SHE IS: MY VOICE AMONGST YOU. TO HER I GIVE THE WORD
OF THE INFINITE, TO COMPREHEND ALL OF REALITY AND WORK TO PRESERVE IT ON A
A head turn, and all followed her gaze to behold the Eldest Soul. "AND OF
COURSE, MY SERVANT YVES SHALL REMAIN, A GUIDE TO YOU AS YOU GUIDE THE
MORTALS. TO HIM SHALL BE GIVEN THE WORD OF DESTINY, TO BRING ALL REALITY TO
THE BRIGHTEST OF ALL POSSIBLE FUTURES." Yves nodded, smiling his wise,
Metatron spread her wings and flew high above the crowd, her aura blazing
even brighter than that of Mariel, stronger than that of fallen Lucifer.
"COURAGE, MY CHILDREN. I TRUST IN YOU ALL, AND I KNOW THAT TOGETHER, YOU
SHALL NOT FAIL THIS, YOUR WORLD." With that the aura, and the Voice, were
gone, leaving Metatron to slowly settle to the sullied ground.
Heaven would never be the same.
Seraph Archangel of the Infinite
Voice of God
The World is wide and strange beyond all comprehension. Let's explore its
infinite possibilities, shall we?
It is dissonant for angels of the Infinite to try to limit or
constrain a person or prevent them from reaching their potential. The only
exception are demons and Hellsworn.
Seraphim: These Seraphim's piercing gaze can cut through a
person's multiple layers of lies and self-delusions with a successful
Cherubim (Restricted): These Cherubim can attune to a
target by sight or by visual reproduction of a target, as well as touch.
They can hold twice the normal amount of attunements, and once per day, for
five essence, can pull themselves to one of their attuned.
Ofanim (Partially Restricted): Once per day, these Ofanim
can distort mass and gravity about a single target, enabling them to remove
an obstacle from their path. This ability costs 3 Essence. Additionally,
these Ofanim move at double the speed of their Agility. Non-Ofanim can gain
the distortion ability.
Elohim (Restricted): These Elohim can read emotions in an
area both in the past and in the future for a number of hours equal to
their Perception. This "precognitive" ability can often warn of future
events, though only the emotions are revealed, not the specifics.
Malakim: These Malakim can "strike with the Infinite",
tripling their Strength and attack rolls for a single battle per day. The
stronger the Malakite, the stronger the damage. Metatron is a popular
Archangel for Malakim.
Kyriotates (Restricted): Kyriotates of the Infinite can triple their
Perception rolls once inside a host, and they can do this for multiple
hosts, enabling them to pick up on many things at once.
Mercurians (Restricted): Mercurians of the Infinite can
expand their resonance, picking up on even the most minute details of a
person's life with a touch and a Perception roll. They can also expand
their resonance when dealing with a small crowd (20 or less) for 3 Essence
and with no touching required.
Presence: For two Essence the angel radiates an aura of such commanding,
overpowering presence that all others must make a Will roll at -4 to resist
following their orders. This aura fades after 10 minutes times the Angel's
Aura of the Voice: The angel channels the might of Metatron, which appears
as a gold-streaked beam of blue light that strikes from above and smites an
opponent, doing 2 x CD damage.
Cloak of the Infinite: For four Essence the angel can temporarily move
themselves out of sync with the Symphony, disappearing from sight, sound,
and Symphonic perception for a number of minutes equal to the angel's
Vassal of the Infinite: Vassals of the Infinite can stretch their
perceptions, seeing and hearing events around them as if they had extra
eyes and ears. They can see and hear all around in perfect clarity within a
range of 10x Perception yards.
Friend of Foresight: Friends of Foresight can use a Song or resonance and
put it "in storage", delaying the effects until a time of their choosing.
This power only works on one Song or resonance at a time, and costs 6
Essence to activate.
Master of Time and Space: Masters of Time and Space can reach into the
Symphony and pull forth a vision of the future. Such visions are inherently
vague as the future is always in flux, but it can be a powerful tool.
Chance of Invocation: 0 (Metatron is very busy contemplating the ineffable)
A tome of philosophy +1
A site where people gaze at the stars +2
A place where the knowledge of time and space is studied +3
An object that provokes deep thought in mortals (GM's discretion) +4
A famous work of philosophy or art +5
A scale or feather taken from an angel killed in the Rebellion +6
Spend an hour in deep thought on the infinite
Spend a night gazing at the stars in contemplation of the infinite
Strike down one of Lucifer's personal minions (not those of the Princes,
Recover some artifact or token lost in the Rebellion
Bring back a personal token from one of the Archangels killed in the
Rebellion (Gabriel's sword, which was taken by Belial, or a Force of Jordi).
Allied: Saminga, Yves (Orc, Khalid, Legion, Saminga, and Yves are allied to
Associated: Everyone else (Everyone but Uriel is associated with her)
Hostile: None (Uriel is neutral towards her, as he does not see the
tactical value of her Word or her Servitors)
Asmodeus: "She has had to strike the balance between being herself and
being the Voice her entire existence. I don't know how she does it, but I
really admire her. I'm glad she's around to guide us. I don't know what I'd
do without God's Voice to guide me." Asmodeus's greatest strength is his
most tragic flaw. Charged with maintaining the Balance, he cannot let his
Cherubic love stand in the way of his duty, yet he cannot deny his nature.
I worry for him often.
Beleth: "So quiet, so distant. She inspires awe by her very presence, and
that awe brings the fear of God. I wonder what hidden fears drive her
sometimes, but then I am glad I do not know, for anything that could strike
fear in one such as her is something I'd not like to think about." Her
heart was broken at the Rebellion and the fear that somehow she caused
Blandine's betrayal has always haunted her. Such a bright soul, so
darkened. I fear that no matter how the War ends she will not find the
peace she so desperately needs.
Eli: "Like, sometimes she needs to take a hit and just ~relax~ you know?
Mety's all serious and faraway and stuff, its' like she never goes on
vacation or takes time off or anything! It's not healthy!" Eli, free and
wild, passionate and intense. Oh I understand Eli. I do. But someone must
preserve that which you make. You are the inspiriation and the creation, I
am that which maintains the order that enables the creation. Still, I won't
say I don't appreciate some jazz and blues now and then.
Genubath: "What she sees, what she ~is~, is the shield that guards our
purpose. If Yves is the Guide than Metatron is the Guardian of our nature,
reminding us always of our holy purpose by channeling God's words to us. We
must always protect her and what she represents." Genubath. Noble
protector. Brave friend. You always stand in the forefront, shielding that
which must be held dear for angels and mortals alike. You do Baal proud,
never forget that.
Janus: "You know, change is a good thing, but sometimes its' nice to know
that there's something that doesn't change. No matter how wild the War
gets, Met's always there to put us in touch with Dad and help us get our
bearings in the storm. ... You're not going to repeat that
bit about Met's never changing being a good thing to Uriel or Mariel are
ya?" Janus keeps the universe bright, ever-changing. He is the chaos that
brings stability to the order, and I value him highly for that. He is also
a good friend, whose strong heart has seen me and Heaven through many a
dark time. Long may the Wind blow.
Jean: "She provides us with the knowledge of God directly from the source,
making her an invaluable asset. Her sentimentality and air of contrived
mysticism are perhaps non-optimal, but rarely have they interfered with her
effectiveness. There are worse celestials." Jean was damaged so badly in
the Rebellion. He is Elohite, and will not let his emotions affect his
actions, but I hear the pain he seeks to hide when he speaks, and I see the
hurt in his eyes. I see the struggle he engages in every day, holding the
Word of the one he loved--loves?--so very dearly. I wish that I could take
that pain from him, but I fear that only Raphael's redemption could heal
that wound, and possibly not even that.
Khalid: "Her presence brings hope to the Host by providing us with the
words of our Father and Creator. Sometimes I wonder what inspires her to
carry on. Is it the Voice? Or is it something else, deep inside? We all
forget that she is an angel and not just the Voice. Fear the day when she
loses hope." Khalid is so earnest, so bright. He was tempted by Lucifer
but it was his boundless optimism and trust in the goodness of man and
angel alike that saw him through. The others say that I or Yves bring
comfort to the Host, but I say it is Khalid that fights off the ennui of
the long War.
Legion: "She's the direct line with the Supreme Commander and as such needs
to be respected. I may not understand her Word or her other purposes but
that is my Lord's lookout, not mine. She serves the War in her way as I do
mine." Despite his Word, and the violent rage that simmers within him for
the demons, Legion is a complete gentleman and a good angel to know. He
tries so very hard to see beyond his Word and understand that which he
fights for. That he doesn't always succeed is no fault to him.
Mariel: "Our Light, which guided us in our darkest hour. Michael may have
bested Lucifer but it was Metatron's example in resisting the Darkness that
ignited the flames of his courage. That she remains, and shines God's light
into our hearts, is a greater blessing than she may know." I think that
those first moment of surprise, when Mariel was first given her Word, have
shaped her actions since. The honor of being the Lightbringer, an honor
Lucifer discarded, awes her still. That she focuses her Word through the
dispassion typical of her Choir may have helped her, but sometimes I wonder
if Mariel regrets not being the Angel of Memory she was once. I saw more
happiness in her eyes then but she never speaks of it.
Michael: "Metatron? If I'm the Champion then what do you call the angel who
first struck down Lucifer? Uriel doesn't trust her but the kid doesn't
always see beyond his Word. She's our connection to our Father. Don't let
her down." Michael, more than any of us, was changed by the Rebellion.
Sometimes we talk and I see the Seraph that was in the Malakite that is.
Don't let his gruff manner fool you. Michael is no brute, and there is much
of deep substance within the Shadow.
Novalis: "She works so hard to handle the myriad tasks her Word brings. My
Word has saddled me with so many tasks that must be maintained. Can you
imagine what it must be like to be the Infinite? That she does it with such
grace is a testament to her character and inner strength." Ah Novalis.
Sweet one. You worry for me but please do not. We each have our tasks, and
it is I who am amazed at how well you have taken on the work of both
Flowers and Animals and yet retained your kind heart. As Janus says, it is
nice to know that some things never change. ... How did I know he
said that? Oh, I have my ways.
Oannes: "She never shifts, yet somehow she always is the forefront of the
tide. I find this strange about her, but she is like a rock. All things
dangerous and vicious break against her and are scattered helplessly. The
sea contains many secrets, Metatron contains many more, and yet, there is
no danger in the depths of her wisdom, only peace and hope." Ah, Oannes.
Healer and comforter, physician of body and soul. You spend yourself in
endless service and ask nothing in return, and yet I give you my
friendship, my trust, and my respect. Truly is it said that the Waters
soothe all burdens, yea even the greatest.
Orc: "She's the truest expression of my Word, bringing God's words directly
to us. She opens up possibilities to the rest of us that wouldn't be there
otherwise and represents the potential for transcendence. I wish she'd be a
little more direct in expressing herself though. It makes it harder to get
the message out when the message isn't clear in the first place." My young friend, who spreads the words of Heaven. You remind me much of
Gabriel. So eager, so determined to properly convey the message and make
sure it is understood. I only wish he could see you now, picking up the
torch that was dropped.
Saminga: "You'd think we'd be enemies, wouldn't you? Death is the end of
things, and she represents that beyond the end. But really, when you think
about it, our Words complement each other. I help the transition that opens
the eyes of mortals to the Infinite beyond corporeal life. I'm glad she's
there so that the souls have a guide to what waits beyond, and I'm glad
that she's my friend." It constantly amazes me how otherwise intelligent
celestials and mortals fear Saminga and what he represents. Death is not
the end but a transition, one which he facilitates with a singular grace
and beauty. If Saminga needs help, assist him, understand?
Uriel: "That she is God's Voice and thus valuable I do not doubt. I *do*
doubt her value to us in the War. We need Archangels with powerful Words
that can strike against Hell, and I'm not at all certain that the Infinite
fits that category." I worry about Uriel sometimes. Even in the old days
he never knew how to relax. I know his questions about me and my Word, and
I can only say that those concerns will be answered in the fullness of
time, but I do worry that he is working himself into an early disbanding. I
think I shall have a talk with Michael and Legion about the situation. They
might be able to get through to him where I cannot.
Yves: "My oldest and dearest friend, without whom Destiny would be so much
less. What is Metatron's Destiny you ask? Hmmm. An interesting question."
Destiny and the Infinite go hand in hand. The Infinite
would be lonely and bleak without Destiny, and Destiny would be limited and
finite without the Infinite. I like to think it's the same way between us.
Besides, it's nice to have a friend of close age to share burdens with.
Andrealphus: "All this mystical ineffablity of hers can't hide the burning
and desire I know is within her. I've found this delicious desire in her
servitors and I know it is the same for her. She just needs to have it
released, a feat I am quite capable of." Andrealphus long ago lost
sight of the infinite nature of Love, exchanging it for the finite and
narrow confines of mere Lust. His inability to see beyond the level of
physical sensation cripples him in ways he cannot even fathom. As to my
desires, he couldn't begin to imagine them.
Blandine: "I remember her. So proud. So distant. ... I remember how she
drew Beleth's attention away from me with her lies and her lofty station.
I'm going to love rending her mind with my claws, and tasting the sweet,
sweet pain of her torment." Blandine really has twisted into a
mass of hate and resentment in exile. I remember the bright and wonderful
Lady of Dreams of old, and to see her like this is almost physically
painful. The only thing worse is seeing the pain in Beleth's eyes whenever
Blandine's name comes up in Council. I must hold hope that she can be as
before, but sometimes, when I see the twisted creations of her and her
Servitors...I just don't know.
Belial: "She screwed up the Rebellion by alerting the wimps too
early, before we were ready to strike. 'Cause of her we're not ruling in
Heaven right now. ... I'm gonna make her pay for denying me
what should have been mine!!!" Belial. ... I
hold no sympathies or mercy for this defilier, this trash. He slaughtered
Gabriel, who trusted him, and he took his sword as a trophy. That he later
helped to slay Baal only proves what unworthy scum he is. He wishes to
destroy me?" "Let him try. Unlike Gabriel, he'll not
have my back turned to him when he strikes.
Dominic: "She was the Voice with which God condemned us. I do not forget or
forgive her temerity, or His temerity, in daring to judge ME. I alone
judge. I alone dominate. She has been found guilty in absentia of insolence
and defiance, and it is I alone who shall execute sentence." Dominic's
arrogance is matched only by his cruelty. His stubborn, pig-headed pride
was his downfall in the Beginning, and it shall be his downfall in the End.
The Iron Fist? Bah. A rusty gauntlet wielded by a cowardly weakling, just
waiting to be ripped asunder.
Gebbeleth: "I distrust her. She makes the revelations of God to open, to
accessible. That knowledge is dangerous. She must be silenced, or her
revelations obscured in some manner. Confound and kill her servitors where
possible, learn their secrets and make sure they get lost in the Web. As
for Metatron, she too must be trapped within the Web, or disposed of."
Despite his preference for the shadows he seeks the light of knoweldge,
which is the Light of God. Sometimes I pity a being so twisted that he must
slink through the shadows of life, and sometimes I feel fury, when his
agents destroy the potential in an angel or mortal with their lies and
Haagenti: "Has she no pride? No self-respect? She enslaves herself to the
whims of God out of such foolish concepts like 'humility' and
'selflessness'. Hmph. Small-minded weakling. She wouldn't last a week down
here. The self is all." A pretentious newcomer, whose vanity blinds her to
anything that is not her. I find it interesting that Lucifer gave her the
Word of Pride when he exemplifies that Word so well, but regardless, the
little girl poses no real threat. Let her preen and strut until God's
Judgment comes upon her suddenly, a terrible swift sword, and smashes her
Kobal: "She has so much! She has the trust and love of the others up there.
She has the power of God flowing through her. I never had that. Of course,
I don't want it either. But getting her servitors and the other angels to
envy what she has opens up cracks in the Host, which is a good thing."
Poor Kobal. He never was able to see that he was loved and valued for who
he was, not his position. Funny, witty, sweet, he was more than the Jester,
he was a friend. To see him so bitter and envious is a tragedy. Unlike some
of the others, I still think Kobal can be Redeemed if he could just see
that it is not what you have but who you are that is important."
Kronos: "Metatron is an impediment. Her presence, her messages, and her
Word reinforce the damnable Yves, making my work harder. Though even she is
not immune to the cold grasp of Fate..." That foul creature! I am
absolutely giddy with delight whenever I interfere with one of his
schemes. You haven't lived until you've seen the look on his face when one
of his pet projects goes down the drain.
Lucifer: "I remember her. I remember how she rejected the path of true
righteousness and struck me down. I remember how she betrayed the true,
worthy celstials to the false and how she pronounced that self-righteous
prick's condemnation of us. Oh yes, I remember. On the day when Heaven lies
in my grasp she will feel every inch of the pain I felt on the Day of
Liberation." Why am I not surprised that he has not learned his lesson?
Even in the old days he was a slow learner. Seeing that look in his eyes so
long ago, the look of pride broken and humbled, was sweeter for me than I
think many realize. I look forward to seeing it again when the Traitor
faces God's Judgment.
Magog: "The Infinite is nothing. Gluttony consumes all, devours all. It
will devour her in the end, just you wait. The Voice of God will go
screaming into my maw and fall silent forever." Ah, Magog. The Great Pig.
Not content with watching and guiding humanity, he engorged himself on the
pleasures of the flesh and walked that primrose path to Hell. He speaks of
devouring and entropy. I say it is past time someone cut away that lump of
excess fat that passes for his head. His entropy is nothing compared to the
Infinite, but let him find that out in due time.
Makatiel: "She coddles the wimp angels! She assures them in the lie that
they do God's work when it is I and my Choir who truly are God's angels!
She helps them find cures for the plagues I spread, and teaches mortals to
think of something other than the misery and death they deserve! She must
be stopped!" That this living blight on existence has the nerve to claim
the place of an Archangel is bad enough, but I have seen her work in the
world. She is the harbinger of horror unparalled; of madness, and pain, and
grisly death. Anything that must be done to stop her is worth it. Do I
make myself clear? Anything.
Marc: "She pretends to be so noble and pure, but I know her. I know she
hoards the power and prestige of her position. I know she takes the glory
that should be others unto herself. Oh yes. Her personal avarice might not
be for money, but she is just as greedy as anyone else. She's just better
at covering it up." Marc truly deserves the title of Taker. He is a leech
and a parasite, whose blinding lust for the things of the world completely
deludes him to the nature of himself and others. Stripped of his treasure,
his fawning servitors, and his Princely power, Marc would see what I see: a
bare and empty soul, scrounging for any shield to cover how pathetic he is.
Meserach: "She inspires the gutless wonders up there to keep trying, keep
striving, keep doing. Bleh. ... Take her out and the others will be
a lot easier to slow down and stop." Meserach is a greater threat than
many realize. Apathy and despair chain the soul in ways no mere chain of
steel could. He drags people away from their Destiny and from their
infinite potential not with flashy toys or the lure of sex and money, but
by perverting the natural desire to rest into an excuse to let one's life
go to waste and feel good about it. Janus is right. Sloth needs to be
uprooted, sooner rather than later.
Raphael: "She thinks she can hold back the abyss. She thinks her
inspirations and her 'messages' can somehow keep entropy at bay. She is a
fool. Despair, hopelessness, the death of all hope. That is Oblivion. One
day, she too will fall into the Pit with the rest of creation." How does
one describe an entity who has lost all reason and sanity? Lucifer and the
other Princes are cruel, would-be despots, but they can be reasoned with.
She's just an insane monster, and for the pain she brings Jean, I will see
the monster that has claimed Raphael's corpse pay. My friend, the original
Archangel of Knowledge, would have wanted to see this foul creature that
wears her body and her name expunged.
Vapula: "Metatron is representative of a failed paradigm: the age of divine
revelation. That the Archangels trust the unsupported word of this angel
without verifiable evidence is simply another sign of their patent
inability to manage the affairs of the cosmos." You know, for all the
damage he does in encouraging mortals towards irresponsible science and
waste, I have no particular animosity towards this one, besides him being a
Demon Prince. In a way, Science opens the potential for mortals to reach
the Infinite. Once his corruptive taint is removed, my people can truly
open peoples' minds. In a way he does my work without even knowing it. I
enjoy the irony.
Zadkiel: "Does she not realize that her very existence sets the seeds of
darkness in the Host? Little by little I nurture those seeds. I watch the
resentment build, the distrust grow. The suspicion. The delicious paranoia.
What does Metatron know that you do not? What secrets does God whisper to
her about you, and when will she use it to tear you down? Oh yes. I greatly
value Metatron right where she is." Zadkiel is a disgusting wretch, who
deserves neither mercy, nor forgiveness. She magnifies on the faults of all
the others: envy and greed, lust and sloth and pride. She takes them and
worms into the deepest reaches of the mind, creating anguish and corruption
where there was none. She is a cipher, and I look forward with great
eagerness to the day when the Tendril is lopped off and this filthy user is
dragged in chains to the Tribunal to be Judged.
Asmodeus - Cherub Archangel of The Balance (Heaven's internal security)
Beleth - Cherub Archangel of Divine Fear
Eli - Mercurian Archangel of Creation
Genubath - Seraph Archangel of The Shield (commands the front-line troops)
Janus - Ofanite Archangel of The Wind
Jean - Elohite Archangel of Knowledge
Khalid - Mercurian Archangel of Hope
Legion - Kyriotate Archangel of The Holy Condemnation (Lord Commander of the
Mariel - Elohite Archangel of Light
Metatron - Seraph Archangel of The Infinite, Voice of God
Michael - Malakite Archangel of Shadow, Firstborn of the Angels, First of the
Malakim (commands the black-ops and spy division)
Novalis - Cherub Archangel of Nature
Oannes - Kyriotate Archangel of The Waters
Orc - Kyriotate Archangel of Communication
Saminga - Grigori Archangel of Death
Uriel - Malakite Archangel of Purity
Yves - Archangel of Destiny
Andrealphus - Impudite Prince of Lust
Blandine - Djinn Princess of Dreams
Belial - Calabite Prince of Wrath (General of Hell)
Dominic - Balseraph Prince of The Iron Fist (Hell's internal security)
Gebbeleth - Balseraph Prince of The Web
Haagenti - Calabite Princess of Pride
Kobal - Impudite Prince of Envy (The Bitter Jester of Hell)
Kronos - Prince of Fate
Lucifer - Balseraph King of Darkness (Ruler of Hell and King of Demons)
Magog - Skulker (Dark Grigori) Prince of Gluttony
Makatiel - Habbalite Princess of Disease
Marc - Impudite Prince of Avarice
Meserach - Djinn Prince of Sloth
Raphael - Habbalite Princess of Oblivion
Vapula - Balseraph Prince of Science
Zadkiel - Shedite Princess of The Tendril
David was slain by Lucifer at the Rebellion, as was Gabriel by Belial.
Jordi was laid low in a sneak attack by Vephar and a group of demons,
though Vephar paid with his life when Oannes caught up with him. Laurence
never existed here. Christopher, the Angel of Children, was killed by
Zadkiel's forces on the eve of his ascension. Litheroy defected from
Knowledge to serve Khalid as the Angel of Faith. Baal was slain in an
ambush by Dominic, Gebbeleth, Kobal, and Belial, the result of a
carefully-arranged trap set in 937 B.C. Genubath, the Angel of The Shield,
was promoted to Archangel and succeeded him as commander of the front-line
troops. Lilith freed the demons and was killed in a joint-operation by
Uriel and Legion. It was known as the "Green Death" because Uriel spent
centuries slaughtering Lilim, destroying Freedom's outposts, and generally
harassing Lilith before setting her up to be ambushed and killed by Legion
in 1542 A.D.
Zadkiel was the Kyriotate Angel of the Mystic, serving under Michael. She
was the liasion between Heaven and the Ethereals, as well as between Shadow
and Fear. She manipulated the Ethereals (who had a stronger presence than
in canon) for centuries, but eventually became too proud, too sure that she
knew more than her superiors on Ethereal matters. During the Black Death in
medieval Europe she Outcast herself, using her organization of angels and
Ethereal loyalists to infilitrate high-ranking rival cultures on Earth and
tear them down from within. When Heaven moved against the heavily
Discordant Kyriotate, she Fell, taking her small army with her. Lucifer
rewarded her with the Word of The Tendril and a Princess's coronet. The
fallout so undermined Michael as General that he stepped down and God
appointed Legion, a former Shedite of The Iron Fist, now Redeemed, to
succeed him over the objections of the Council. Legion recieved the Word of
The Holy Condemnation.
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