[460] The Call of Ra (2)
A white space.
The archangel council chamber—the White Expanse—accessible only to archangels born from pure concepts, felt as if its surface had been filled with ink so immaculate not a speck of dust could mar it.
Undulations rose from that place, and one by one the archangels appeared.
A perfect circular table emerged from the floor, and seven archangels took their seats.
Wings of light and their radiant bodies blended into the white landscape and became invisible.
Here they were equals, and each could voice only a single opinion born of their own subjectivity.
There was one exception: Chief Archangel Ikael.
But she was not here.
"It's been a while. All assembled at last," said Rayel, Archangel of Light.
He who governed electromagnetic force had a lithe three-meter frame and an androgynous, handsome face.
"One is missing. Ikael," said Metatron, Archangel of Existence.
He who ruled gravity had a voice that drew listeners in. He stood two meters tall—small for an angel—but his shoulders were broad and his jaw square and weighty.
"Ikael is under enforced seclusion. She can't attend the council anyway."
At Uriel's words, Metiel, Archangel of Conjunction, frowned.
She brushed her golden hair back to reveal a high, beautiful forehead; despite her pure looks she had a cold temperament and sharp eyes.
"That's precisely the problem. An archangel cannot abstain. With only seven, there can be no tied votes."
Originally there had been eight archangels, Ikael included. When a council deadlocked, custom dictated they follow the Chief Archangel Ikael's will.
So Ikael had borne responsibility for everything.
But with only seven now, any motion would produce a definitive outcome.
It might be a tidy solution, except that this place was the White Expanse.
Decisions made by archangels born from primordial concepts affected not only Heaven but Purgatory and, beyond that, every world connected to Heaven.
For all beings under the Akashic Record, matters decided in the White Expanse amounted to divine proclamation.
"This is my view as well. Activating the White Expanse without Ikael is dangerous. Who will take responsibility?" said Satiel, Archangel of Dissolution.
In the angelic hierarchy chart, Satiel and Metiel stood like sisters. Archangel beauty was unmatched, but Satiel's temperament was far more brutal and cold than Metiel's.
"I will take responsibility," said Kariel, who had been waiting for his moment.
"Kariel, you? Do you understand what it means to take responsibility?" Metatron asked.
He was the most intellectual among them; it was not ignorance that prompted the question.
"Of course. I summoned this council prepared to risk annihilation."
"Then tell us the motion."
At Metatron's prompting, Kariel spoke the words he had prepared.
"Impure movement has been detected in Purgatory. Yet Ra has taken no action. I think it's time the archangels stepped forward."
"Does Ikael know?" Rayel asked.
Kariel forced his face not to crease.
It had always been like this.
Ikael. Ikael.
Everyone relied on and followed only Ikael.
Perhaps the White Expanse had always been hers alone.
"She is no longer our chief. There's no need to consult her," Metiel said, turning her head. A beautiful voice slipped from between her parted lips. "They're just humans, after all. Why the haste? No matter how the vermin move, we can crush them anytime. I see no reason to do what Ra has forbidden."
Uriel backed Kariel.
"It's not that Ra forbade punishing humans. He only prohibited angelic activity."
Metatron said, "Isn't that the same thing? Why now, Kariel? What are you thinking?"
"Miro's space-time has disappeared."
Anger vibrated through the White Expanse from the archangels.
The first to show his temper was Satiel.
"Disappeared? Miro's space-time has vanished?"
That a mere human ability could halt and force the retreat of Heaven's armies—even archangels—was the greatest humiliation since their birth.
Even the faint mirroring of Miro's face on their radiant forms felt like cracks spreading across an angel's pride.
"Check it yourselves. Also, Miro is caught in the Great World War. All her abilities are bound," Kariel said.
Kiiiiiiing!
When six archangels sent out rings of light at once, a roar split the world as if grinding it to dust.
No living creature could withstand that sound, but no one at the round table flinched.
After confirming through their powers, they drew the rings back into their radiant forms.
Kariel's report was true—everything had to be reconsidered.
"So what's the motion?" Rayel asked.
"We mobilize all our power and strike the earthly realms."
"Hmm."
Metatron stroked his chin.
The fae and giants were separate independent forces, but it would not be an exaggeration to say seventy percent of actual might lay with the archangels. The difficulty was achieving unanimous agreement given their exalted status.
If a decision were made in the White Expanse, the angels and maras under their command alone would be enough to sweep away the human world.
"But Ra forbade angelic activity. What do you make of that?" Metatron asked.
"That's why we activate the White Expanse. We came from Anke Ra, but we were born from a primal concept. We do not answer to the laws of those beneath us. If the White Expanse decides, Ra cannot intervene," Kariel said.
The archangels cocked their heads.
Kariel's argument had force, but their minds did not run on human logic.
"Isn't that, in human terms, rebellion? Denying a higher being—aren't humans the only ones who want that?" Rayel said. Uriel looked at Kariel with a charged expression.
What had made Kariel so resolute?
"We are not denying Ra. It's simply time for the archangels to reach a decision."
"Imir's law…," a hoarse voice echoed through the White Expanse.
"He does not move," said Paiel.
All the archangels turned toward him.
Paiel, Archangel of Extinction.
He was the most inscrutable among them. Cloaked in a white robe with a hood that hid his face, he measured about one meter seventy—almost human in stature.
Few beings across the cosmos knew his face, and even those who had seen it could not define it.
Although Paiel had been born last, human-style ranking by order did not apply to them. On the chart he stood as a direct counterpoint to Ikael; his temperament followed a different trajectory than the mid-ranked archangels'.
Metiel asked, "Imir's law is the vanguard of war. If he didn't move… does that mean there will be no war this time either?"
"It might not be war at all. It could mean our victory without war," Kariel said.
"Or the opposite," came a cold retort.
Kariel was irritated that archangels fretted over the fate of a single giant.
"Hmph. Does a higher law concern itself with a lower law? Whatever—let us begin. If four or more agree, we annihilate the humans. We wipe Purgatory clean in an instant and destroy the earthly realms."
The archangels fell into thought.
Kariel wanted war, but angels had no notion of persuasion. Their incarnations were too distinct and their knowledge too vast to be swayed by unknown variables.
In the end, each would decide according to their nature.
As if on cue, Uriel raised his hand first. Kariel followed, then Metatron and Rayel.
The only one who withheld assent was Paiel.
Even amid Ikael's absence and the implication of rejecting Anke Ra's decree, most voted in favor—such was the archangels' unshakeable pride.
'With this, the wretched humans will disappear.'
Kariel's radiant form bent into a meaningful smile, and Ikael's face flickered across it.
* * *
At the top floor of Arabot, Ikael paused before the iron door and extended her hand.
Dong! Dong! Dong!
Anke Ra's heartbeat thundered, leaking through the gap.
"Anke Ra, your servant requests audience."
A massive body of dark red skin sheathed in viscera. Though collapsed and lacking a distinct individual shape, that very sameness symbolized Anke Ra's totality.
Within the twenty-six-ton mass, the organs of a living being were maintained only as potential before manifestation, and nerves running along the walls crept across the space like a brain.
The center of the body bulged, then split horizontally as if shaved with a razor.
Skin peeled back and a gargantuan pupil emerged, blinking like an infant as it scanned the surroundings.
Meeting Anke Ra for the first time since her seclusion, Ikael drew a deep breath.
The nerves on the floor meshed and produced a grotesque high-frequency voice.
"Squeeeeek! Ikael, squeeeeek! Purgatory's, squeeeeek!"
The earsplitting sound gradually stabilized into a low rumble.
"The heretics have begun to move."
Ikael bowed.
Anke Ra had made the first concept. That was why Ikael was special.
The reason Ra had not cast her down as a fallen angel despite the unforgivable sin she had committed was tied to that.
"No heresy can resist you."
"Someone from the world beyond Miro's space-time sought to bring about change."
Ikael lifted her head.
Anke Ra was the Akashic Record. To seek change within his encompassing concept was not an ordinary human act.
"That change has led to a result manifesting in the present. Perhaps there will be no time to hear the answer he left. That is why I absolve your sin."
Ikael fell into thought.
Anke Ra's avoidance of war must be to hear some answer.
"One thing I wish to ask. What question does Ra want answered?"
"I—why… is there none?" Anke Ra said.
At the question, Ikael's eyes clouded with longing.
Old memories flowed beautifully across the surface of her radiant form.
And the face of a boy.
"I will see to it," Ikael declared in a firm voice.
If she reclaimed the office of Chief Archangel, she would hold Heaven's full authority. Control among archangels might be imperfect, but at least pointless sacrifice could be prevented.
"There is a condition."
"A condition?"
"I will erase the sin you committed."
Ikael's eyes widened.
Erasure in the Akashic Record was not merely vanishing from others' memories. It was another dimension—no one, not even Ikael herself, would remember it.
The only beauty left to her—what she had chosen while ready to become a fallen angel, ready to risk annihilation—would vanish.
"There is a human in Purgatory who will bring you the answer. Can you accept that?"
Ikael's radiant form trembled.
It was fear.
An irremovable, unforgettable memory would be erased.
'But…'
Ikael's gaze sharpened.
'All the more reason for me to reclaim the office of Chief Archangel.'
Having made her decision, Ikael nodded.
"I accept."
Anke Ra did not ask twice.
Its pupil snapped open and the world's information rippled like a wave.
Ikael's radiant form spread into a ring of light, and a speck of black no larger than dust began to peel away.
'I am sorry.'
A single tear rolled down Ikael's cheek.