Chapter Text
His leather boots slapped on the golden floors. A lazy smile stood on his face as he attempted to ignore the lingering unease. Making his way in the golden tower the air was quiet, still, as if no angel had flapped its wings this morning. The sun's rays didn't shine upon the heavenly grounds and it much showed in the dim light of the halls. The golden walls seemed almost plastic with the lack of shine illuminating them. The building felt empty, darkened, as if it was mourning.
His wings dragged behind him, the weight slowing him down. He interlaced his fingers to stop them from twitching. Reaching the enormous door he unwillingly took a halt. No sound came from within the meeting room, not even a whisper. Still, his grin remained, trembling. His hand was at the doors pearly handle, so clear he could make out every detail of his face. He grinned goofily at himself, the gap in his teeth dominating the circular mirror. With a chuckle, he pushed softly, and without a single creek the door revealed the frame of the high seraphim, her majestic wings at full display.
She was facing the window, unmoving. He crooked an eyebrow at her unusual stance and peeped his head in the crack of the door, his dear seraphim friend came into view, her hand holding her sister's. Her distraught expression only worsened when she noticed him.
"Heya!" He said, awkwardly, perhaps he shouldn't have taken his time on the way here. For a single moment his eyes landed on the item that stood on top of the desk, but it quickly turned back to the seraphims.
A sharp gaze shot violently at his skull, his father's lieutenant growled her teeth at him. His heart rate picked up. Tears shined in her eyes, dancing in the dim light that escaped from the wall sized window. He smiled at her, frightfully, and waved, maybe a little too much. She covered her head in her hands like before, as if he wasn't even there. A frown crossed his face. His breathing was audible.
"Is..." He caught his friend's eyes. Her pupils didn't shine with angelic whimsy. They shined with sorrow. Remorse. He crooked his brow.
"You...called for me?" He snickered, only thing he knew how to do. "Why..." robotically his eyes lingered on the item on the desk. He bit his lip as he ran his pupils along the cracks in his father's mask.
"Why...are you staring at me like that..."
"Abel" his eyes fell upon the high seraphim. He had almost forgotten she was in the room. His jaw clenched a while ago but he just now realized it.
She moved her head a single inch. He saw a shine run down her face but she whipped it away before he could register what it was. He could almost hear her violent heartbeat. Punching her chest from the inside. Feeling it stab her with every pump of blood that was sent to her veins. Clogging her breathing. Making it all unbearable. His palm was pressing against his chest as if that would stop the bolder that pulsed in him.
Suddenly his friend's hand was at his shoulder, the same remorseful look as before and her highness was in front of him, tenderly holding his fathers broken mask. He stared at it for so long he couldn't see it anymore. His father never took it off. Never let even a scratch pass its screen. Somewhere in the mix of colors he saw yellow, a bright yellow. His father's.
"Where's my dad?" he whispered. He heard something break from the lieutenant's direction. He felt something roll down his face. His friend embraced him but his hands landed on the damaged battle helmet.
"I'm so sorry Abel" he heard from somewhere in the distance. His eyes had widened so much it hurt. Everything was black. Everything was shaking and so was he. Suddenly he was on the floor, cradling his father's helmet. Hugging it tight, the sharp broken glass stabbing his stomach. He circled it with his frame, his tears ran across the angelic metal.
"Our condolences, Abel" the high seraphims soft voice thumped aggressively in his eardrums. The sisters hugged eachother but he didn't even notice.
"Dad.." he choked, stuttered, reaching for his father's back under the helmet, the cold sensation of the marble floor bringing him back to the room. His head pounded, pounded almost as hard as it did when his brother sinned. Suddenly he was back there. In the garden. Head smashed open. Light headed. Vision blurry from the tears, darkened from the attack. The world spinning. All alone, without anyone, without his father, no matter how much he called for him. He was gone.
"How could you let this happen...?" His mouth moved on its own. He heard the high seraphim gasp. Even in the darkness, he saw her shaking.
"I..."
"How is this possible...I..." His blood began to boil. An unfamiliar sin crawled up his spine.
"I thought this was Heaven! I thought it was your job to keep us all safe!" He feels terrible. He sees the seraphim's broken expression, the unbelievable guilt in her spirit, and he understands. Yet the weight of his father's helmet in his hold is greater.
"Adam...." her highness steadied herself, her voice filtering the pounding in her ears "Continuesly committed genocide...to his own people...for his own pleasing!" She yelled, even though she knows she shouldn't. "He..."
"He was still a soul in your care! I know he wasn't..." His head hurt so much and he didn't know why. He whipped his tears away only for more to come falling down. "No matter what he did he was a winner!"
All the seraphim's eyes began to burn, uncontrollably.
"How could you just..."
Her teeth gritted
"let him go..."
"HE LOST HIS PLACE IN HEAVEN" her angelic yell sent a tremble down the entire structure, her all-seeing form burning his eyelids. Her expression filled with unmatched anger. He saw his face in her gaze. A sharp, excruciating pain passed his head. He hissed, his hand clutching his hair almost pulling it out.
"He didn't belong here anymore." She continued, softer. "If his punishment was for him to perish, I had no say in that"
He couldn't hear her anymore. He couldn't hear anyone. He didn't hear his friend's comforts. He didn't hear the lieutenant's complaints. All he heard was his dad's gentle voice, telling him he has another extermination run today, that it'll be the biggest one he has ever done. He choked on his tears. He had asked him if he wanted to join him. He declined instantly, he despises seeing those poor souls get brutally murdered, even if his father said they deserved it, he didn't believe that. He'd never believe that. Openly now he sobbed, pressing his cheek against the cold metal frame. Had he agreed to go, would his father be alive now? Would he have, somehow, saved him from whatever it was that ended him? Was he to blame for his demise? Because he didn't go. Because he let him go down there alone. Who knows where he is now. His spirit dissolved into nothing but mere particles of life in the eternal wind, staying alive only in the memory of the ones he left behind. If only there was a second heaven he could go to, Abel thought, maybe he'd convince God to let him see him.
But unfortunately for him these loopholes don't exit. He can continue to sob, pray for his father to come back, for his second-time dead spirit to be sent to Heaven, so he can see him again, embrace him, apologize for letting him go. But this is Heaven, not a fairytale. The rules are black and white. It's only Heaven or Hell, and now that Heaven is no more there's only one more place for the First Man to go.