In a city where the sky was choked with smoke and the streets were a maze of rusted metal and cracked pavement, Gabriel lived an ordinary life. A life of struggle. Of scraping by. The Gods had long since abandoned Earth, their once-glorious cities now crumbling ruins. The Angels, once divine protectors, had either vanished or fallen from grace. And humans? We were nothing more than forgotten remnants, struggling to survive in a world that didn't care.
Gabriel lived in the lowest levels of the city, where the lights barely flickered and the air smelled of decay. He spent his days scavenging through the rubble, looking for anything useful, anything to survive another day. The world above, where the Gods and the Angels once ruled, was just a distant memory. No one had seen the Gods in centuries, and the Angels had faded into legend, spoken of in hushed tones by the few who still remembered.
Gabriel had never thought much about them—until the night everything changed.
It started like any other night. A violent storm swept through the city, rattling windows and shaking the buildings. The air was thick with an unnatural charge, crackling with energy. Gabriel, used to the storms that often rolled in from the distant mountains, didn't think much of it. But something felt different this time. A strange pull tugged at him, urging him to go to the roof of his building.
Without thinking, he climbed the fire escape and stepped out onto the rooftop. The storm was intense, the sky lit up with flashes of lightning that seemed too bright, too sharp. The city beneath him was silent, the usual hum of life drowned out by the roaring wind.
And then, in the midst of the chaos, he saw him.
A figure stood before him, emerging from the storm like a ghost from the past. His presence was overwhelming—an aura of power and authority that Gabriel could feel deep in his bones. He was tall, his features strong and regal, glowing with a faint, otherworldly light that made the storm seem insignificant in comparison. His eyes were like fire, burning with a force that Gabriel could not understand.
"You..." Gabriel gasped, taking a step back, his heart racing.
The figure spoke, his voice deep and resonant, echoing in Gabriel's chest. "You are Gabriel, are you not?"
Gabriel's mouth went dry. "I... I'm just a boy."
The figure stepped closer, his presence both intimidating and comforting. "You are not just a boy. You are my successor. The power you seek, the destiny you are bound to—it is already within you. I have come to awaken it."
The wind howled around them, but Gabriel's gaze never left the figure. Something in his chest stirred, as if his very being was reacting to the words. "Who are you?" he whispered, a sense of awe creeping into his voice.
"I am Gabriel," the figure said, his gaze piercing. "The Angel of Judgment. And you are the one who will rise to take my place."
Gabriel staggered back, his head spinning. "But... how? Why me?"
"You are my blood," the Angel said, "my chosen successor. The Fallen Angels, led by your brother Lucifer, are returning to destroy what remains of Earth. They will not stop until the world is reduced to nothing. And you, Gabriel, are the only one who can stop them."
The storm seemed to calm for a moment, the air heavy with silence. Gabriel's heart pounded in his chest, the weight of the words settling over him. He could feel the power inside him, a fire igniting deep within his soul. It wasn't just an awakening—it was a calling.
"You will fight them, Gabriel," the Angel said. "You will rise to the challenge, and you will bring judgment upon those who seek to destroy this world. Your destiny is now bound to mine."
Gabriel felt the power surge through him, filling every inch of his being. He wasn't just a boy anymore. He wasn't ordinary. He was something more, something ancient. The weight of his new identity, his purpose, pressed down on him—but it didn't overwhelm him. It empowered him.
As the storm finally died down and the skies cleared, the figure before him began to fade, his form dissolving into the air like mist. "Remember," Gabriel's voice echoed in his mind, "the power of the Angels is now yours. You are Gabriel. You are the judgment."
And with that, he was gone.
Gabriel stood alone on the rooftop, his breath steady but his heart racing. He could feel the power pulsing within him, like a heartbeat that wasn't his own. The battle for Earth had begun, and he was no longer just a bystander. He was Gabriel—the Angel of Judgment. And he would stop the Fallen Angels from destroying the world