The days that followed were a blur for Gabriel. The world around him felt different, yet the same. His body felt heavier, like it was carrying an invisible weight. The power he had felt on the rooftop surged through him, but it wasn't just energy—it was a presence. A consciousness. It was as if the very essence of Gabriel, the Angel of Judgment, now lived within him, intertwining with his soul. He could hear the whispers, sometimes like a voice in the back of his mind, sometimes like a silent scream, urging him forward, urging him to embrace his new purpose.
The streets of the city hadn't changed. The air was still thick with smog, and the broken, rusted remains of humanity's former glory stretched out before him. But Gabriel saw it all differently now. The ruins weren't just the remnants of a forgotten world—they were the battlefield. The walls that once separated the rich from the poor, the ruling Gods from the struggling masses, had become the front lines.
He spent the next few days in a daze, training with his new abilities in the hidden corners of the city. It was strange, unfamiliar—yet it felt right. The power surged within him whenever he called for it, and with it came abilities beyond human comprehension: strength like a god's, speed that made the world around him seem to slow, and a connection to something greater, something older, that made him feel as though he could command the very elements.
But there was one thing he couldn't escape: the visions. They came unbidden, showing him flashes of battle, of destruction. Images of Lucifer and the Fallen Angels, their dark forms wreaking havoc on the Earth. He saw cities crumble, and he saw his own brother—Lucifer—standing amidst the ruins, his eyes burning with rage, his voice echoing with a promise of total annihilation.
"Come, Gabriel," Lucifer's voice called out, soft yet chilling. "Join me. It's not too late to embrace your true power. Together, we can bring the Gods to their knees."
Gabriel shook his head, trying to silence the voice that haunted his every thought. He wasn't sure what had happened to Lucifer—to the brother he had once known—but he knew one thing for certain: he could not join him. Not after what he had seen, not after feeling the weight of the destruction that was coming.
The Fallen Angels were gathering, and they were stronger than ever.
But Gabriel was no longer the boy who wandered the streets in search of scraps. He was the Angel of Judgment, and he had a purpose now. He had to stop them.
It was on the fourth night after his encounter with the Angel that he felt it—a sudden, chilling presence that froze him in his tracks. He was standing on the rooftop again, looking out over the city, the faintest trace of lightning still in the air. Then, he felt it—the pulse, a dark ripple in the atmosphere.
It wasn't just a storm—it was the arrival of the Fallen.
He felt them—Lucifer's presence first. Cold. Malevolent. Like a shadow creeping across the world. And then the others. Medussa, her gaze capable of turning anyone to stone. Chronos, the master of time, capable of twisting the very fabric of reality. They had returned, and they were not alone.
Gabriel closed his eyes, his fists clenching at his sides. The time had come.
"Your destiny awaits," he whispered to himself, the voice of the Angel within him urging him to move. "You are not just Gabriel. You are the judgment."
Suddenly, there was a sharp crack, and the air shifted. A figure appeared before him, stepping out of the darkness, tall and imposing. The face was familiar, yet twisted with something dark—his brother, Lucifer.
"Gabriel," Lucifer's voice was a whisper on the wind, but it carried a weight that made Gabriel's heart beat faster. "So, you've finally accepted your place in this world. You've embraced the power. But you still don't understand, do you? We could rule together. The Gods are weak. They've abandoned this world. Earth belongs to us now. You'll see. You'll join me eventually."
Gabriel stood tall, eyes glowing with the light of the divine. He could feel the power coursing through him, the power that had come from the very being of Gabriel, the Angel of Judgment.
"No," Gabriel said, his voice steady but full of conviction. "I won't join you. I won't let you destroy this world. I'll stop you, Lucifer."
Lucifer's lips curled into a sinister smile. "You think you can stop me? You're just a boy, Gabriel. You think that power makes you invincible? You'll learn, like the others. The Fallen will rise, and you will fall with them."
With a sudden movement, Lucifer's form shifted, and in an instant, he was gone—vanishing into the night as quickly as he had come.
Gabriel stood alone on the rooftop, the wind howling around him. The battle had begun. He could feel it in his bones. The Fallen Angels had returned, and they would not stop until Earth was theirs to destroy. But Gabriel was no longer afraid. He was ready.
The fight for the future had begun. And he would be the