'I'm doing all this for you. To make you smile again. That's why I left. I left to find the one who will help us. The one on whom all our hopes rest. The one who will give us back the sun, the air, the earth and the joy we have lost. I will give him what I have found... then everything will depend on him... and the angels.'
The crisis hall of the Celestial Militia Headquarters was bathed in a cold, solemn light. The angels were gathered around a long oval table. Silence weighed heavily over the chamber, broken only by the restless steps of Gabriel, who could not bring himself to sit. His tense features and burning gaze reflected the urgency of the moment.
"At this grave hour, my friends," he began, his voice taut, "as you know, the Key of the Island of Fire has been stolen by the dark angels. It is a crushing defeat for us all. They now hold seven of the eight keys that seal the tomb of Mohograbenn. After centuries of fragile peace, we are on the verge of a new era of chaos."
He paused, letting the silence deepen, his words sinking in like stones.
"It is hard to admit," he continued in a low voice, "but we must prepare for a merciless war."
Esrom, pale and trembling, rose abruptly, panic flashing in his eyes.
"No! We can still prevent this! There is one key left! If we fight with all our strength, perhaps… perhaps we still have a chance!"
Achaz scoffed bitterly, his words cutting.
"And how do you propose we do that? Even our combat angels failed to protect the others. Should we still cling to the illusion of their so-called might?"
Eliakim stirred angrily at the insult, but Sélène laid a calming hand on his arm.
"Enough, Achaz!" Gabriel thundered, whirling toward him. "Do not cast blame upon anyone. Our archangels of battle and their legions fought to the last breath. Their strength is beyond question. It is the enemy who is too powerful, too many, too determined. If only… if only we were stronger…"
A heavy silence followed, until Robert's calm, steady voice cut through it.
"I believe the time has come… to call upon the one who once saved us."
Eliakim and Sélène look at Robert approvingly, while all the others were turned incredulous eyes toward him. Gabriel frowned.
"What are you talking about, Robert?"
A mysterious smile touched Robert's lips.
"The Legendary Angel."
The shock was immediate. Esrom stood speechless, Gabriel froze in place, and Achaz burst into a derisive laugh.
"And how will you do it? With a magic wand? The legendary angel has been dead for centuries and you know it! Unless you mean to suggest we repeat the same sacrifices as before?"
Eliakim spoke firmly, his eyes alight with resolve.
"No sacrifices, rest assure. We are simply going to… release him."
"Release him?" Achaz echoed, confused.
Sélène fixed him with an intense gaze.
"The power of the Legendary Angel."
Esrom shook his head in disbelief.
"But how can that be possible?"
A faint smile curved Eliakim's lips.
"At the time when the legendary angel was still alive, the various sections of the heavenly militia saw fit to preserve his formidable power. The current situation had already been envisaged by our illustrious predecessors. And it was the legendary angel himself who gave permission for his power to be retained... he had just... given his life... so that in the event of a problem, a glimmer of hope would remain..."
Gabriel's voice dropped, thoughtful, almost reverent.
"So that is how the Legendary Angel died… I never knew." He suddenly turned to Robert. "Where was his power kept?"
Robert answered by placing a small coffer gently upon the table. The dark wood seemed to vibrate in the silence.
Every angel in the room held their breath. Achaz, Esrom, and Gabriel exchanged stunned glances. Then Gabriel's confusion exploded into fury.
"Why?! Why did you not use this weapon the moment they began stealing the keys?! Why wait until now, when nearly all are lost? Why, Robert? WHY?!"
Suddenly Sélène leapt from her seat, her eyes burning with emotion.
"Because—"
"Sélène, no…" Robert interrupted softly, laying a hand on her arm.
But she drew a breath, her voice trembling with passion.
"But…"
"It's alright" assured Robert.
Eliakim look at Robert and Sélène, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his eyes. Gabriel let out a weary sigh, as though bracing himself for the inevitable.
"Well then…" Gabriel's tone steadied. "Which angel will inherit these powers?"
Eliakim straightened in his chair, ready to answer. "Why, of course—"
But Robert's voice cut through, sharp and resolute.
"No angel can inherit them. It has to be… a human."
The chamber fell silent. Every angel stared at him in shock, save for Sélène, who remained composed, and Robert himself, unwavering.