"It's this gate that's calling me… the things within it."
Herman stared at the gate radiating a holy aura, certain now about the source of the voice summoning him.
There were no words. No message carrying any linguistic meaning.
And yet—Herman could clearly sense the fluctuations beyond the bronze gate, the mental waves of countless beings, filled with feverish zeal, unshakable conviction, and devout passion. Beyond that gate lay innumerable powerful lives. He guessed they were angels connected to the Enochian language.
The faith of these angels, untouched by time, should have belonged only to their true master… yet that same fervent devotion was now directed toward him.
A coincidence? Hardly.
Something beyond the gate had guided him here; he could be certain of that. Whatever lay behind it had set its sights on him from the very beginning. But what baffled him was why his presence alone stirred such rapturous excitement among the countless lives beyond.
"Is it because my power carries a divine aspect? Did they mistake me for something else?"
The platinum flames of divinity flickered within Herman's eyes. A theory surfaced in his mind as he lifted his gaze toward the glowing golden gate, his expression shifting.
It was possible.
The power awakened through his identity as the [Raven Emissary] not only allowed him to devour divine and demonic energies, but also carried a sanctity and authority resembling the holy power that radiated from the gate. Very similar indeed.
So it made sense that the angels beyond would feel a sense of affinity toward him. But what he now felt went far beyond mere affinity.
That feverish passion. That feeling of a promise fulfilled after billions of years of waiting—it was faith.
But could God's own warriors truly redirect their faith to him simply because they found his power familiar? Impossible. That was precisely why the situation felt so incomprehensible—almost eerie.
For a moment, doubt clouded his thoughts.
"Do they see me as their ruler? Their God?"
Realistically speaking, that shouldn't be possible. Fanatical mortals might mistake their object of worship, but the beings behind this gate were far from ordinary.
Herman's certainty about their nature came from the Enochian inscriptions on the bronze door mentioning angelic warriors. From the sheer magnitude of the mental energy he sensed, he could gauge their strength—not a single consciousness behind that gate possessed less than a Universal-level of power.
Yes. The bronze gate—or perhaps it should now be called the Gate of Heaven—hid behind it a divine dimension, overflowing with angels. Each one's mental strength was at least equal to a Universal-level being.
In the Marvel Universe, such beings are those who command the fundamental laws themselves, surpassing even the Sky Fathers. They are, in essence, gods.
And right now, behind the gate shimmering with golden light, there existed countless such beings. Herman could even feel presences vastly greater than his own.
Multiversal-level? Perhaps even higher…
If the dimension beyond this gate truly originated from the DC God, then His angels would indeed stand among the highest forms of existence. That alone explained Herman's certainty—they were angels.
As God's warriors, this was an army forged by divinity itself. Should such a legion descend upon the mortal plane, the entire universe would be thrown into chaos.
And if his suspicion about DC Heaven proved true, even the Five Great Abstracts—or supreme entities like the Living Tribunal—might not be able to stop them.
After all, the Living Tribunal is merely a servant of the One-Above-All. How could such a being possibly oppose the legions of the DC God? The DC God exists on the same level as the OAA.
"Very good, very powerful. It wants me to open it, and then I'll have an army of Angels?"
Herman began to sense the longing emanating from beyond the gate.
The grand jade-white door shimmered with a sacred brilliance. Even though his divine fire had tempered it, revealing its true form, the gate remained closed. It still required Herman to release the divine fire condensed within the lock's core.
At first, he had every intention of opening it. But now, feeling the emotions surging from the other side, hesitation crept into his mind.
He began to suspect that the fervent emotions he sensed might be nothing more than bait—a trap to lure him into unlocking the gate. Who could say whether the angels waiting beyond hadn't already fallen after countless eons? Myths across worlds were filled with tales of fallen angels.
If those inside had indeed fallen, that would explain the intense passion and the faith he felt from them.
Fallen angels, after all, were entities more cunning than demons. Sometimes they still wore the guise of holiness, wielding powers that appeared pure and sacred. Unless they revealed their true nature, few could ever see through their deception.
And Herman had no desire to unleash a legion of fallen angels—beings not of this universe—into the Marvel Multiverse.
"I'm merely a Universal-level being. No matter how strong I am, there's no way I could fight against billions of other Universal-level existences behind this gate."
"Not to mention the Multiversal-level ones within… and perhaps even beings beyond that."
His expression hardened as he stared at the massive white gate before him.
The magnificent surface was covered in intricate, mysterious patterns. Countless lines intertwined to form new Enochian symbols—completely different from what he had seen on the bronze gate before.
The Enochian script that once adorned the bronze gate had been artificially engraved by some unknown entity. But now, the inscriptions on the white Gate of Heaven carried an entirely natural and harmonious presence, as if they had been part of the gate since the moment of its creation.
The blessing of [Comprehension] still lingered.
Herman focused and began deciphering the words inscribed upon the Gate of Heaven:
When I saw the Lamb open the first of the seven seals, I heard one of the four living creatures, whose voice was like thunder, saying to me, "Come."
So I looked, and there before me was a white horse. Its rider was given a crown, and he rode out conquering and to conquer.
When I opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, "Come."
Then another horse came forth—a red horse.
The rider was granted authority to take peace from the earth, that people might slay one another, and he was given a great sword.
When I opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature call out again, "Come."
And I beheld a black horse.
The rider held a pair of scales in his hand.
When the fourth seal was opened, I heard yet another voice say, "Come."
A pale horse appeared, and its rider's name was Death.
The realm of the dead followed him.
Power was granted to them to slay a fourth of the earth's population…
Then I saw the earth quake violently, the sun turning black like sackcloth, the full moon becoming blood-red, and the stars of heaven falling to the ground…
The inscription was long.
Herman's gaze lingered on the Enochian text carved into the gate, his doubts only deepening. He recognized it instantly—the passage came from the final book of the Bible, the one many considered its most crucial.
That book was called Revelation.
It revealed part of God's divine plan—a prophecy foretelling how the world would be destroyed according to its words, only to be remade again as darkness was banished for eternity.
It was as if a world had been destroyed and then remade… The sun would never set again, and this world would never again know night. God would unleash a disaster even greater than the Great Flood, annihilating every impure and wicked life that should not exist.
Then, a new utopia would rise in its place—a realm where the repentant and the faithful could enter, living in eternal peace within a world akin to Heaven itself.
"Such passages appearing on the Gate of Heaven before me… this can't be a good sign." Herman felt more certain than ever that keeping the gate sealed was the right choice.
He knew quite a bit about the Book of Revelation. Not just its content, but also a hidden truth about it. While many ancient sects devoted to God regarded Revelation as the final chapter of the Bible…
In reality, it was a forgery.
What did that mean? Simply that the contents of this chapter were not written by God like the rest of the scriptures. It was a false "final chapter," crafted by angels using the last remnants of His power after "God" had departed.
And their purpose?
According to the DC Universe history Herman knew, the angels there used Revelation as their justification for rebellion—returning to the mortal realm to once again "fulfill their duties."
"So this really did come from the DC Universe?"
Recalling the angels who sought to make Heaven "great again," Herman couldn't help but wonder if the Revelation carved into the Gate before him was their doing. If they were capable of inscribing such words on the gate themselves, they shouldn't need anyone else to open it, should they?
Either way, the appearance of the Apocalypse only made Herman more determined not to open the gate. The very fact that the voices within were calling out to him meant the angels inside were unable to leave on their own.
Perhaps once they could. But now, they clearly couldn't… and that gave Herman the advantage. At least he still had control—he wouldn't accidentally unleash a catastrophe even he couldn't contain.
"What a troublesome thing."
Herman still had no idea how to deal with the Gate of Heaven. He tried storing it inside his own alternate dimension and within the Realm of the Dead, but neither of his universes could contain it. The gate's power far exceeded what either dimension could bear.
"Leaving it here isn't an option…"
He knew the Tesseract could act as a key, and that made him wary of leaving the gate in this timeline. After all, the Space Stone couldn't be taken away.
If someone used the Tesseract to reopen the gate after his departure, who could say whether the angels inside would pour out in full force? Perhaps when HYDRA opened it before, those angels were still dormant—but now, Herman could clearly feel their minds and wills growing restless. No one could predict what might happen the next time the gate opened.
Just as he was brooding over the problem—
Thud. Thud~
Suddenly, the Gate of Heaven shuddered violently. The ground trembled beneath him.
A heavy impact echoed, like a massive iron hammer striking metal. Herman froze, eyes widening in disbelief.
Seriously? Just like that? Had the slumbering angels really awakened?
"Thud… thud…"
A second impact. Then another.
"Thud… thud…"
"Thump thump~"
"Thump thump~"
The tremors and pounding grew faster, more impatient. Whatever was inside, it was desperate to break free.
"Thump thump~"
"Well, it'd be rude not to respond," Herman muttered, stepping forward. He raised his hand and knocked firmly a few times. The jade-white gate resounded even louder than before.
"Knock knock~"
The reply came almost instantly.
No sooner had he finished knocking than the sound echoed back from the other side.
Damn it.
There really were angels right there, waiting for someone to open the door. Herman could almost picture a scheming fallen angel pressing its face against the gate, smiling wickedly.
Then, as if responding to his knock, a voice came through from the other side—soft, clear, and distinctly in Enochian.
"Is anyone there?"
It was a young voice.
A little girl's voice—gentle, sweet, and trembling with anticipation, carrying an almost pitiful tone.
"Can you open the door for me?"
"You're still there, right?"
...A little girl's voice.
It sounded so innocent. So pure. So kind.
"This has to be a fallen angel's trick."
Herman's eyes widened. He'd seen enough deception in the Marvel Universe to know something wasn't right here. The whole situation felt off—unnervingly so.
"Please don't leave, okay? Open the door. Let me out, please~"
Just as Herman was sure of his conclusion, the little girl's voice came again—this time laced with disappointment, yet still clinging to hope.
How to describe it?
It was the kind of voice that tugged at your heart, making you want to help without thinking. It sounded like the plea of some poor child trapped inside a closet, waiting for someone to let her out.
"Knock knock knock~"
"Just open it, okay? Just once. Just for a moment."
The little girl's voice persisted, stubborn and soft.
The massive Gate of Heaven continued to tremble and creak, sending deep reverberations through the air. Herman was starting to feel annoyed.
"There's no one outside."
He leaned closer to the gate and replied. His response seemed to leave the little girl on the other side momentarily stunned.
For a long while, everything went silent. No more knocking. No more calls.
Herman thought she had finally given up.
But then—
"You're lying…"
It was at least five or six minutes later when her voice came again from behind the gate, this time carrying a faint tone of grievance.
Good grief.
So it took her that long to figure it out? That his words didn't quite make sense?
"A fallen angel pretending to be clueless, huh?" Herman muttered with a wry smile. He still needed to figure out how to deal with this gate—or at least seal it again.
"Do you want to take the gate with you?"
For some reason, the little girl's voice from within sounded as if she could see right through him. Her tone was curious, almost innocent.
Herman didn't respond.
"I can help you."
No sooner had she spoken than something strange happened.
The enormous Gate of Heaven suddenly began to shrink, collapsing inward in a burst of light before transforming into a streak of golden radiance. The beam shot straight toward Herman's right hand, imprinting itself onto the back of it as a glowing tattoo.
The intricate gate-shaped mark shimmered with divine brilliance. Herman could feel a strange new connection forming between himself and the gate.
"It can do that?"
He froze in disbelief.
Before he could gather his thoughts, the golden tattoo on his hand trembled slightly.
"Can you open the gate for me now? Let's help each other out, okay…"
The little girl's voice echoed faintly from within the glowing mark.