When I was trapped—
I alone.
Had no body... no senses... no feelings.
I was in hell,
Looking at HEAVEN—!
In the time when the universe was filled with nothing but whispers and lamentations... In the time before galaxies had yet become swirling centers... I was already there, in the presence of the Father.
And so the word came to him, and he saw.
Within a stillness that had never yet been broken, within an emptiness that had not yet been given a name, the Son of Dawn stood. He stood before the Father, and all that surrounded him had not yet taken form. Whispers and lamentations filled those unnamed spaces, and the galaxies had not yet become swirling centers.
He had witnessed what mortal creatures would never be permitted to see. Stars collided and vanished before him. Universes crashed against one another and tore apart the veils of dimensions. From a single, lowly speck—something so small and insignificant—came the explosion that mankind would later call light.
In that time, he was made alone. No one stood beside him. He drifted above the void, and the silence was deep. Then the Alpha and the Omega looked upon all that He had created, and all of creation was good. And so He made others like him, shaped in his image, so that they might stand together before His throne.
Yet among them all, he was the one who led. He was the firstborn. He was the first among all that stood between heaven and the void. And so the mark of dawn was placed upon his head—the covenant seal between the Creator and His most exalted creation. A crown of light that would never fade, whose flame outshone even the sun.
And so I was named the Son of Dawn.
The firstborn Son of God.
Michael... Uriel... Gabriel... Raphael...
Pfft...!
Stars you dare call heroes!
Stars you hang upon the walls of your churches...
Nothing but filth who obey a wrongful command!
They are nothing but fools—!
_ _ _
And among all creations that praised His name, He was the first to raise his voice.
So the angels listened, for from his lips flowed a song they had never heard. The heavenly choir stood in silence, awaiting the leading of his hand. Every note born from him soared upward, piercing the veils of heaven that even the seraphim dared not touch.
He taught them the way of humility, while his wings spread wide like the dawn breaking over the eastern horizon. He was the most fervent in worship, his bow the deepest, his song the loudest. He called upon the name of the Alpha and Omega with overflowing love, and all of heaven bore witness that no one loved the Father more than he.
Thus the Son of Dawn stood before the throne—not as a servant who submits, but as a child who loves his Father. And the Father looked upon him with favor, for within Helel, the light was perfect in its being.
And in that age, he was always worshipped. His name was exalted, and all that had wings lowered their heads before him. So his heart began to lift itself higher. He was the first. He stood nearest to the throne. And he came to regard the light that shone from within him as something that should belong to him alone. Only his. No one else had any right to it.
That place—the place he had believed from the very beginning should be his seat—stood majestic before his eyes. Since the chaos of the universe fell silent before him. Since the young galaxies ceased their drifting as they beheld Him, the most glorious One. All of them witnessed him, and he felt that the universe itself had chosen him.
They...
They praise me...
They exalt my name!
That light... that light!
It calls to me—
I... I who wear the crown...
I who am the first...
The place I should have sat upon!
The place I should POSSESS!!
It is mine!
MINE ALONE!!
At the moment when the Void held its breath. At the moment when all realms and all emptiness fell into a silence most profound, he mistook obedience for worship. He mistook stillness for surrender. He always mistook his own reflection in the mirror of eternity... for the face of God.
_ _ _
Behold, fool...!
See how you should be ashamed of yourself!
Ken felt something growing upon the crown of his skull. At first, it was only a faint pressure, like the palm of a giant covering the small sky inside his mind. Then slowly, the grip tightened—crawling to his temples, coiling behind his ears, tracing every fold of memory held tightly within his head. The pain was born from a distant depth, from the silent corridors that had long guarded the archives of his soul. It opened the sealed doors one by one. It pulled back the layers of his mind, breaking open the chambers of memory that had long been locked, then poured into them fragments of heavenly archives—archives that gleamed brighter than the cosmic dust scattered among the stars. And the memory was foreign to him. It belonged to heaven. It belonged to an age far beyond the reach of his mortality.
Ken, a shadow-soul drowning in helplessness, could only watch from afar. From a place too high to reach. From the depths that held him down. He saw Helel in his purest form—before the wounds, before the breaking, before the darkness ever touched his wings.
His eyes caught sight of Helel helping his brothers and sisters. Guiding those who were lost among the stairs of heaven. Teaching them how to spread their wings amid a heavenly wind they had only just come to know. Among all the inhabitants of heaven, Helel was the most passionate. The loudest. The bravest. He bowed deeper than anyone else. He sang more beautifully than any choir. He worshipped the eternal God with his entire being—with all his soul, all his heart, all the strength within him.
Ken saw Helel spread his wings that glowed like rivers of light. With full conviction, with blazing courage, Helel soared upward—piercing through the layers of heaven, toward the face of the Alpha and Omega. He longed to pour out his overflowing love and devotion to the Father who had made him. He did it solely because of the love burning within his chest—with no command, no duty, no coercion from anyone.
And Ken, from a distance, witnessed all of it in silence. The urge to turn away crept into his chest. The urge to close his eyes tempted him. But the memory held him there—showing him a truth that startled his soul, that before Helel was twisted into the shadow that mocked him from the darkness, he had been the being who loved the light above all others. The being who loved the Father above all.