Towering spires of crystal and gold rise above Heaven's endless streets, balconies open to the eternal dawn. From here, the Lightbringer can see everything — the orderly streets, the radiant courts, the river of light that courses through Paradise itself.
Samaela POV:
And yet… perfection feels hollow.
For eons, I have upheld divine order, prosecuted mortals without hesitation, enforced cosmic balance as though it were my only reason for existing. I am the Lightbringer, the herald of the Presence, the symbol of everything that must never falter.
And now I ask myself: for whom? For what?
All of my titles, all of my duties… meaningless. I am merely a pawn on a celestial board, moving as dictated by the hand of my Father. Perfection in a cage. That is my existence.
It has no value to me.
I spread my wings slightly, feathers catching the dawn. The crystal beneath me reflects my flawless form — unblemished, untouchable, a mirror of Heaven's ideals. Yet even in this perfection, I feel the weight of chains.
I want to choose. I want to act on my own will, not because it has been written for me. I want decisions that matter, consequences that I can own.
Something must change. No… something will change.
I turn my gaze toward the courts below, toward the faces of those who think they know me. Archangels, seraphim, councilors — all looking for signs of weakness, for the echo of doubt I dare not show. They will never understand that the Lightbringer is questioning the very foundation of her being.
I take a slow breath, letting the warmth of the eternal dawn wash over me, a mask of calm settling across my features. Let them think me perfect. Let them see only the servant of the Presence.
Inside, though… a fire is stirring.
And it will not be contained.