The hall trembled after his declaration.
He sat on the throne like it had always been his. Light spilled through the stained glass above, casting gold across his body—but nothing about him was holy.
Rafael clenched his jaw. Around him, the archangels stirred.
"Enough," he spat out. "He's mocking everything we were made to protect."
Their divine light surged as they stood together against their enemy.
Reign laughed sadistically. "Oh? Finally grew some balls? Took you people long enough."
Rafael raised his sword, its blade glowing with purest light. Forged in the heart of Heaven. Made to defend it.
"We won't let you insult our Father."
Reign tilted his head. "Are you sure? Because most of your brothers and sisters haven't moved. Looks like they've already picked a side."
He leaned back, casual. "Or maybe they finally figured it out. Blind faith won't save them."
Rafael's grip tightened. "Father hasn't abandoned us. I still believe he'll return."
