In Heaven, calm had completely returned after Vox's definitive defeat.
It was not an empty or tense silence, but a deep, restorative one, like the final sigh after an eternal war. For the first time in centuries, Hell and Heaven coexisted in authentic peace: not fragile, not forced by pacts or threats, but stable, sustained by real decisions and sacrifices.
The Celestial Gate, freshly restored, glowed with ancient runes that pulsed gently, as if breathing. The grand luminous hall was almost deserted; the echoes of old disputes had been replaced by a sacred stillness. White marble columns rose until they were lost in the celestial vault, and the stained glass—bathed in warm, golden light—projected dancing reflections onto the polished floor.
In the center of the hall, Sera, the High Seraph, stood alone.
Her wings, folded elegantly, shimmered with soft flashes as the light enveloped her figure. Her expression was serene, but in her gaze accumulated centuries of responsibility, loss, and difficult decisions. For the first time in a long while, she could simply… think.
Then the air vibrated.
A familiar presence appeared without noise or violence, like a warm breeze. Before her, a blue-and-gold hologram began to take shape, outlining the imposing silhouette of Archangel Michael. His figure radiated calm authority, a force that did not need to impose itself.
—Sera… it's been a long time since we last spoke —he said, with a peaceful smile.
She raised her gaze, surprised only for a moment.
—Michael… I didn't expect to see you. Is something wrong?
—Nothing bad —he replied calmly—. I just wanted to inform you that young Kutichay has completed his training as an archangel. He's returning.
Time seemed to stop.
The light streaming through the stained glass seemed to intensify for a second, and Sera remained silent, as if she needed to make sure those words were real.
—Really…? —she murmured, her voice barely audible.
—Yes —Michael confirmed—. He's no longer the carefree child you remember. He's more serene. More steadfast. He's grown… in every way.
The hologram began to dissipate slowly, breaking into particles of light that rose and vanished completely, leaving a sense of relief behind.
Sera remained motionless for a few seconds. Then, a genuine smile—warm, human—appeared on her face. A smile she hadn't shown in a long time.
Without hesitation, she turned on her heels and called to her younger sister.
—Emily —she said, with carefully contained excitement—. Come with me. I have wonderful news.
Emily appeared almost immediately, descending with a soft flutter of wings. She sensed the change in the atmosphere even before speaking.
—What's going on? —she asked, anxious.
—Kutichay is coming back.
For a brief moment, Emily froze. Her eyes opened slowly, as if those words needed time to settle in her heart.
—Kutichay…? —she whispered—. Really…?
—Yes. He's returning today.
Emily didn't need to hear anything more. Her heart raced, and her wings trembled with excitement as she took flight without saying a word, leaving a trail of light behind.
Minutes later, she found Abel, who was watching the firmament from one of the celestial terraces.
—He's coming back —she said bluntly, unable to hide her smile.
Abel looked at her for just a second before understanding. His expression softened.
—About time —he replied—. How many years has it been?
—Eleven —Emily answered—. When he left… he was only seven.
The conversation drew others. Saint Peter approached, leaning slightly on his staff, with a look filled with nostalgia.
—I never thought this day would take so long —he said—. That boy… he was always special.
Sir Pentious, who was listening nearby, tilted his head curiously, adjusting his glasses.
—Excuse me… who exactly are you talking about?
Saint Peter smiled.
—A human born in Heaven —he explained—. Raised among angels. Always kind… perhaps too kind. He left to become an archangel.
—Interesting… —muttered Sir Pentious, intrigued.
Not everyone shared the same excitement.
At a distance, Lute watched in silence. The celestial light seemed not to touch her entirely. At her side, a cold presence appeared, distorting the air.
—So he's still alive… —grunted the specter of Adam—. I thought Sera would have taken care of him by now.
Lute clenched her teeth.
—He was never useful —she replied—. Too sentimental. He would never have endured being an exorcist.
While those shadows murmured, the main platform began to fill with angels.
A harmonic sound of celestial gears resonated in the air, like a perfect mechanical melody. The train slowly descended from the heights, enveloped in golden light and vapor, until it stopped with absolute precision.
The doors opened.
Kutichay descended.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
There was no roar or display of power. His mere presence was enough. His gaze was calm, deep. His posture, firm yet relaxed. He did not inspire fear… he inspired calm, like a silent promise.
—Hello… —he said, scratching the back of his neck slightly—. It's been quite a while.
Emily was left speechless.
Sera was the first to react. She stepped forward and hugged him tightly, as if she feared he would disappear if she let go.
—You're home —she murmured.
—Thank you… —Kutichay replied, slightly embarrassed—. I'm glad to see you all.
Abel smiled with relief.
—You look well —he commented—. Too well.
Emily lowered her gaze, blushing, just as Saint Peter approached.
—Look at you —he said—. I knew you wouldn't disappoint us.
—I just did the best I could —Kutichay replied, humbly.
Then, he turned slightly toward Lute.
—I see Heaven has changed quite a bit —he commented—. Even redemptions now seem possible.
Lute frowned.
—Don't get clever.
—I never do —he retorted, amused.
Sir Pentious swallowed hard.
—Oh no… —he thought—. This one has the same energy as Charlie…
Finally, Kutichay turned to Emily. Carefully, he took her hand.
—I missed you —he said softly.
Emily felt her heart pounding in her chest.
—I-I missed you too —she replied—. A lot.
Kutichay smiled, sincerely.
The celebration that followed was warm and simple. Amid soft laughter and shared words, Kutichay spoke of his training, of eleven years dedicated to discipline, faith, and self-control. When he mentioned that his greatest virtue was hope, Sera hugged him proudly.
Kutichay lowered his gaze, embarrassed…
but deeply happy.