The clouds above Istanbul churned unnaturally with weather. Ramiel stood still on the rooftop, his eyes closed as if listening for something ancient.
Selene adjusted her jacket. "Are you sure this is where it happens?"
"It's never about the place," Ramiel murmured, lifting his palm to the sky. "It's about the will."
A seam split the air, golden and vertical, humming with divine current.
Tobias squinted. "Oh hell. Is that a tear in space? Why does it sing?"
"Because Heaven never whispers," Ramiel replied.
From within the light, a figure descended—tall, armored in silver-laced ivory, long-bladed spear in hand. A Valkyrie, radiant and silent.
"You brought mortals," she said, her gaze resting on Tobias. "And him?"
"Hey," Tobias said, "I'm technically housebroken."
"They're mine," Ramiel said. "If I'm to beg Heaven, I won't do it alone."
She hesitated—then the gate widened.
The group stepped through.
They emerged onto a wide platform of seamless white stone, suspended in the clouds like a forgotten palace. Floating spires coiled upward, made of glass and light. Rivers ran beneath the air itself. Massive gates glimmered in the distance—closed, silent, watching.
Tobias whistled low. "Looks like Apple built a religion."
Ramiel ignored him. "This is the First Sky. What the humans call Heaven... is just the surface."
Selene looked around, eyes wide. "Where are the angels?"
"There are none, at least no longer" Ramiel replied. "They don't exist anymore. Not as you've been told."
He walked forward slowly, Alec close behind.
"When Lucifer rebelled," Ramiel continued, "He took half of Heaven with him. The angels that followed became the Sins—the lords of Hell. Others mutated... became demons."
"And the rest?" Alec asked.
"Their wings rotted," Ramiel said softly. "Their light dimmed. The ones who didn't fall or flee? They became what we now call Valkyries. Silent, devout, loyal."
Selene frowned. "But what about you? The Djinns?"
Ramiel paused at the edge of a shimmering bridge of energy. "We were the same once. Born of fire and word. But we were given something the others weren't—free will. A soul that chose. That is what Elyon feared the most."
"Elyon?" Selene asked.
"The One Above All," Ramiel said. "Maker of light and language. He speaks no more. Not since the First War. And not to me."
Tobias rubbed his jaw. "I like him already."
They crossed into a wide celestial hall with murals carved into the white stone—battles, betrayals, divine judgments. The ceiling shimmered with a living aurora.
"This place is made of memory," Ramiel explained. "Everything here is remembered forever. That's why Heaven doesn't forgive. It can't forget."
Massive bronze doors opened without touch. The group stepped into a circular chamber where seven winged figures stood in silent vigil. They were armed—each one clad in battle-plate, masks covering their faces.
The Choir of Blades.
Warrior Valkeyries.
The central figure turned toward Ramiel.
"Ramiel. Ash-Walker. Equal of Heaven."
"You know why I've come," he said.
The figure nodded. "War again?"
"I didn't start this one," Ramiel replied. "But I'll end it."
"And what would you ask of the Valkyries?"
"Your blades. Your warriors. A covenant."
Another Valkyrie spoke, her voice edged with disdain. "And what would you give?"
Ramiel looked toward Alec, then Tobias and Selene.
"My word," he said. "And my fire."
A silence fell over the chamber.
The Valkyries whispered among themselves in a language that tasted like snow and steel.
Then: "Wait outside," the lead one said. "We must speak of old debts."
Ramiel nodded. As they turned to leave the chamber, Tobias leaned close to Alec and whispered, "If they give us horses with wings, I'm calling mine Beyoncé."