Chapter 50: Rebellion
The wall he had painstakingly erected was toppled just like that; the sheer disparity between himself and the Seraphim filled Adam with despair.
At that moment, a rapid peal of bells rang out. Simultaneously, he felt himself being seized by a force that swept him backward and lifted him into the air.
"What is this...?"
"Adam!"
Adam looked up and saw Eve being carried through the sky by an angel—just as he was.
"What are you trying to do?"
He began to struggle in mid-air. The angel holding him wavered under the force of his resistance, then freed a hand and delivered a sharp, hard rap to Adam's head.
"Settle down! Please stop causing us trouble!"
Although the tone was stern, the underlying kindness in the words was unmistakable. Adam ceased his struggling, exchanged a brief glance with Eve, and then quietly observed the angels carrying them through the sky.
"Where are you taking us?"
"To escape, of course! You're no match for the Chief Seraphim," the angel holding Adam stated matter-of-factly—though, given his stern expression, it hardly seemed appropriate for him to be speaking so casually.
The angels flew with great speed; in the blink of an eye, they had left the vicinity of the Heavenly Gate far behind. Adam turned his head; Lucifer's luminous figure had already shrunk to a mere speck, barely visible against the sky. Assured that they had reached a safe distance, he felt his heart settle a little.
"Why are you helping me?"
His voice was distorted and warped by the rushing wind, yet the angel still caught his question.
And so, a voice—much clearer and steadier than his own—drifted down from above.
"We don't know exactly what happened, but..." The angel steered them toward a teleportation array. The bells of the Heavenly Gate continued to peal in wave after wave; streaming out in the direction opposite to theirs, a massive host of angels surged forth. Adam had never seen so many angels in one place—not even in the Seventh Heaven had he witnessed such a magnificent spectacle.
These angels swept past their group, weapons in hand, flying toward the source of the tolling bells.
"Rebellion is a shameful act!" the voice from above declared.
"Even though, compared to the Thrones, we are so very weak..." the angel carrying Eve added. "Our strength may be insignificant..."
The angel gripping Adam flew ever higher; with the teleportation circle now looming directly before them, Adam felt himself being tossed high into the air—until he was finally flung into that glowing portal.
"But we are angels!"
Angels embody justice.
To protect the weak is the angels' mission.
To guard Heaven is the angels' duty.
To uphold the will of God, and to sever all discord—until the very end of the world!
"Catch!"
Adam caught Eve, who had been tossed down right after him, yet his gaze remained fixed upon the angel who had thrown them in.
"What is your name?"
"My name?" The angel turned back, lifting his chin with an air of haughty pride.
"Angel!"
*Angel...* Adam savored the name, his face filled with emotion; just as he was about to vow that he would remember it forever, Eve tugged at his sleeve.
"He means... *an* angel."
So said Eve; gazing up at the angel high above, she felt—for the very first time—the true charm and beauty of this race.
"We are *angels*, humans," the angel said, watching the humans below while continuing to beat his wings. "Do not thank us; I do not like you. However, were Lord Gabriel here, he would undoubtedly have commanded us to do the very same."
He instructed another angel to escort the humans safely up to the Third Heaven; having given the order, he turned his back and flew—without a single backward glance—toward the Heavenly Gate, where the sounds of battle were already beginning to rise.
Summoned by the tolling bells of the Heavenly Gate, the angels of the Lunar Heaven poured forth en masse. Hundreds of thousands of rankless angels stood facing a mere fifty thousand Thrones—separated only by the ruins of a shattered wall of light—yet not a single angel among them felt any sense of ease.
Their expressions were grave, for they could see no hope of victory.
"Do you intend to stand against me, Sariel?" Lucifer asked, fixing his gaze upon the angel who had just returned from escorting the humans, and spoke his name aloud.
Sariel—the Deputy to the Archangel.
Among all the Archangels, Gabriel was the only one who had chosen a rankless angel as his deputy. Consequently, for much of the time, the position of Deputy to the Archangel had existed in name only.
For ordinary angels possessed no right of audience to enter the Seventh Heaven—let alone to stand in the presence of God Himself. "I dare not," Sariel said coldly. "I will stand my ground to the very end. They are no different from me."
"The only tragedy is that we should meet our deaths at the hands of our own kin."
Lucifer spoke no further. With a wave of his hand and a single command, the Legion of Thrones surged forward, engaging the opposing angels in a fierce melee.
The disparity in power between angels of different ranks was immense; in the blink of an eye, vast multitudes of angels fell, while the rebel forces suffered not a single casualty.
Leading the Legion of Thrones, Lucifer swept through the First Heaven with overwhelming force, conquering it with ease. Per his instructions, the Thrones were permitted to strike only with the flat sides of their blades during the battle. Consequently, those angels who had braced themselves for death were astonished to find themselves still alive after falling. As they gazed upon the Morning Star—his figure resolute and ascending ever upward, pressing onward without a single backward glance—they found themselves deeply moved.
Rebellion may be shameful, but to be drawn in by the aura of the strong—that is not shameful.
It is simply in their nature.
"Your Highness, their resistance is faltering."
Beelzebub spoke to Lucifer with a sense of gratification; he now understood—or at least surmised—why the Archangel of the Seraphim had chosen to descend with a mere fifty thousand Thrones.
Subduing the rank-and-file angels required little effort; winning their hearts, however, was a far more arduous task.
Yet, His Highness had succeeded.
Lucifer showed no surprise; he simply gazed out across the battlefield at Sariel—the sole figure who fought on with ever-increasing ferocity, refusing to admit defeat—and let out a faint sigh.
"Gabriel has a keen eye for talent... a pity, though."
A pity that he remains so obstinate.
With a subtle glance, Lucifer signaled his intent. Beelzebub, instantly grasping the command, swiftly swooped into the fray and effortlessly subdued Sariel.
"Unhand me, you despicable rebels! You feast upon the finest bounties Heaven has to offer, yet harbor the hearts of demons—daring to rise up in treason against your superiors!"
"Oho! Your command of rhetoric is quite impressive! This Archangel likes it—how about you come serve as my adjutant?" Beelzebub, delighted by his catch, eyed the spirited, struggling Sariel; the more he looked at him, the more he found himself taking a liking to him. "Let him go, Beelzebub. He is Gabriel's adjutant," Lucifer remarked coolly.
"Huh? Gabriel has an adjutant?" Beelzebub was genuinely taken aback; eventually, he released the angel with a look of regret.
"I don't actually mind, you know."
Sariel stumbled slightly, feeling as though he had been subjected to a profound humiliation. He wanted to speak, but—given his status as a captive—he realized that any words would be futile; thus, he simply turned his face away, choosing to ignore them.
"Hmm? Why have you gone silent?" Beelzebub poked at his wings. The indignant angel immediately whipped around and sank his teeth fiercely into Beelzebub's hand, causing the demon to let out a yelp of pain and nearly jump into the air. "Let go! Let go, right now!"
"Sariel," Lucifer called out, ignoring the self-destructive Beelzebub as he gazed into the angel's emerald-green eyes.
"You are a denizen of Heaven, and I, too, am a denizen of Heaven; in that regard, we are one and the same."
"I have no desire to harm you; on the contrary, I greatly admire the bravery you displayed just moments ago."
"However—you are an intelligent angel. Have you never stopped to wonder why all of this has come to pass?"
Sariel remained silent, his teeth still clamped firmly around Beelzebub's finger. Yet, Beelzebub sensed the pressure on his hand gradually easing, so he took his cue from Lucifer and pressed on with the argument.
"Do you truly not understand why God created humanity? Are you truly content to serve as a mere thrall to mankind? *Ouch!*"
Sariel bit down hard once more before finally releasing the Seraph's hand. He looked up at the Chief Seraph and offered a bow—neither servile nor arrogant—with quiet dignity.
"You claim that we are 'one and the same,' yet that is patently untrue. I, Sariel, have served as an angel for many years; you, however—as the Chief Seraph—have held your station for an eternity beyond reckoning. How, then, can there be any true resemblance between us?"
As Lucifer observed Sariel speaking in this manner, a faint smile began to play in his eyes. "Even if we are not entirely equal, we are all free."
"Sariel is at your service; however, once this is done, I ask that I no longer remain a mere rankless angel."
"Very well. Afterward, I shall bestow upon you the honor of the Second Rank—that of a Cherub. In return, however, you must take charge of the Moon Heaven and bring all the angels there to order."
"As you command."
Having secured Sariel's allegiance, Lucifer ordered his entire army to prepare for battle. For this campaign, thirty thousand angels had voluntarily requested to follow him.
Consequently, he left behind thirty thousand Thrones—angels of the Third Rank—entrusting them to Beelzebub, whom he charged with holding this position and awaiting further orders. Lucifer himself, accompanied by Samael, then led the remaining twenty thousand Thrones and the thirty thousand volunteer angels upward, toward the Mercury Heaven.
Before ascending, he whispered a private instruction to Beelzebub: keep a close watch on Sariel's movements.
"He agreed far too readily; yet, I have the distinct impression that he is not the sort of angel to shift his allegiance so easily."
"Your Highness need not be overly concerned. To leap from the status of a common angel to that of a Second-Rank Cherub—what an immense honor that is! Were I in his shoes, I, too, would find such an offer irresistible," Beelzebub replied. "Rest assured, however: I shall keep a close eye on him."
Meanwhile, elsewhere, the angel escorting the human couple—Adam and Eve—led them through a teleportation portal to the Second Heaven. As they stepped out of the portal, Adam felt his vision blur and waver.
The light here was neither fully day nor fully night—a perpetual twilight that felt unsettling to the eye.
"How desolate it is here," Eve remarked, casting her gaze around the surroundings.
Although the Moon Heaven had been shrouded in eternal night, the interplay of stars and luminous mineral ores had imbued it with a dreamlike beauty rather than a sense of gloom. The Second Heaven, however, was a stark contrast.
It appeared utterly desolate—so bleak and barren that it scarcely resembled a Heaven at all.
"Oh, you're speaking of the Mercury Heaven?" Hearing Eve's exclamation, the angel replied without even lifting his head. "It has always been this way—caught in a perpetual state of neither light nor dark. I've heard that God once intended to designate this realm as a place of punishment; however, once the Angelic Prison was established in the Mars Heaven—a facility possessing far greater power than this place—the original plan for the Mercury Heaven was ultimately abandoned."
As he spoke, the angel's hands remained ceaselessly in motion; Adam, observing his actions, asked what he was doing. "I am sealing off the teleportation array leading from the First Heaven to the Second. Higher-ranking angels might be able to descend from Heaven without using an array, but to ascend back up, they would definitely need to activate one."
"That should buy us a little time."
"Wait, that's not right. There was once an angel who took me directly from the Seventh Heaven to the Lunar Heaven, and then flew straight back to the Seventh Heaven."
Adam thought of Raphael—the angel who had once carried him in flight—and recalled those three magnificent pairs of wings; he couldn't help but feel a sense of Raphael's kindness welling up from his memories.
Both were six-winged, great-winged angels—how could the disparity between them be so vast!
He thought of that Archseraph—the one who had all but looked down on him as if he were mere dust beneath his feet—and couldn't help but burst into tears.
"That must have been one of the Princes created directly by God Himself; only they possess that kind of ability. Alright," the angel said, "now that the teleportation array is sealed, let's hurry and find the array leading to the Venusian Heaven."
"I just hope it holds out for a while," he said, though without much hope. He turned to look at Adam—who was now sobbing uncontrollably, tears and snot running down his face—and was startled. "Why are you crying?"
"It's going to be fine. Sariel said that as long as you reach the Third Heaven, you'll be safe."
"Sariel?"
"Our adjutant—the one who captured you earlier," the angel said with a frown. "Even though he absolutely detests you, you can't go wrong by listening to him."
"Are you sure?" Adam asked, wiping away his tears.
"A human body can pass through multiple layers of Heaven without any hindrance, right?"
That did seem to be the case. Adam thought it over for a moment, then nodded.
"See? That's exactly what Sariel said. Among all of us, he's the only one who can accurately articulate the differences between humans and angels," the angel remarked.
"I've always felt he was destined for great things!"
"I can only take you as far as the Mercurian Heaven. Any higher than that, and—since the protective arrays haven't been activated—my spiritual form wouldn't be able to withstand it."
"So, you'll have to make the rest of the journey yourselves."
"But what about you?" Adam asked, looking at him. If safety lay in the realms above, then what would become of the angel left behind here, all alone? "You can barely fend for yourself as it is; don't worry about me. At least I'm a little more capable than you are."
Adam, once again subtly—and perhaps unintentionally—accused of overestimating his own abilities, blushed slightly. "No way! What if they come up here and spot you? I can't just abandon you like this!"
The angel cast a glance at Adam, a look of deep emotion surfacing on his face.
He was a lowly, unranked angel—one who had never been given much importance. Aside from Lord Gabriel, this was the very first time anyone had shown such concern for his safety.
"Don't worry, Adam; I won't be captured that easily," the angel, Hadrian, said.
"There are still a hundred thousand Powers—*Exousiai*—stationed in the Sphere of Mercury. Finding me amidst all of them won't be an easy task."
Adam paused for a moment—not out of relief regarding the angel's safety, but rather to ask a puzzled question:
"If there really are a hundred thousand angels here, why is there no sign of them? Perhaps I could appeal to them for help."
Come to think of it, Adam had never actually heard of this specific angelic order—the Powers. Unlike the Virtues, Dominions, and Powers—orders whose Archangels he had, to varying degrees, interacted with—the Archangel of *this* particular order...
"I don't think I've ever heard of him."
"As I recall, Lord Gabriel is responsible for overseeing both the First and Second Heavens," Eve interjected, cutting short her husband's train of thought.
"That is true. However, our Lord's authority is merely nominal; in reality, the Sphere of Mercury has long lacked a true leader."
"Why is that?"
"Because the Powers are... well, they're rather difficult to manage."
The angel's expression was one of utter exasperation—a look that piqued Adam's curiosity. Just *how* difficult were they to manage, exactly?
The Powers: the Archangels among Archangels.
They were indeed more formidable than the unranked angels of the Sphere of the Moon, yet they lacked the capacity to ascend beyond the rank of the Virtues.
Their mediocre potential meant that most of them were destined to remain confined to the Second Heaven. Yet, despite their lowly station, they possessed an inflated sense of pride; they refused to submit to the same administrative authority as the angels of the First Heaven. Furthermore, the higher heavens had ceased dispatching Seraphim to oversee them—primarily because there were simply no more Seraphim left to send.
"Well, that's entirely God's fault for not creating one more Seraph," Adam blurted out—only to immediately realize the gravity of what he had just said. If even the seven Seraphim found him so insufferable, adding one more to the mix would make him want to just jump straight off the Ninth Heaven.
"Very well, please continue."
Hadrian fell silent for a moment, then resumed his account of the history of the Powers.
Lacking any superior to govern them, this group of angels was left to run wild—raised to be both savage and unruly—until they gradually became the "You-Know-Whos" of the angelic host: a subject no other angel ever wished to broach.
They were the sole band of rogue angels among all the celestial ranks.
They possessed no true leadership, existing merely as a scattered, disorganized rabble...
Upon hearing this, Adam suddenly came to a halt.
Wasn't this exactly what he needed?
Most angels rallied under the banner of Lucifer; yet here was a group of angels utterly devoid of presence and deemed unworthy of any significant role...
This was precisely what he required!
He exclaimed his realization with unbridled delight.
When the angel Hadrian heard of the human's audacious plan to bring the Powers under his command, his very first thought was this: *He's completely delusional.*
"Absolutely not!"
"And why not?" Adam challenged, fixing his gaze upon the angel. "I cannot simply keep running forever. Even if I were to heed your advice and flee to the Third Heaven—that realm of utter mystery—what fresh misfortunes would I merely be inviting upon myself there?"
Ever since his expulsion from the Garden of Eden by God, Adam had become convinced that his future held nothing but misery.
If misery was to be his only fate regardless, he chose to seize control of the present moment.
"By your own admission, the Powers are far more formidable than you are—and they are legion..."
"Do you have any idea what it means to 'run with the foxes'?" Hadrian asked, regarding the human before him—a mortal utterly oblivious to the true perils of the heavens.
In the hierarchy of Eden, the cunning of the fox ranked second only to the treachery of the serpent; yet Adam remained steadfast in his resolve.
"How can we know if it's impossible unless we try?"
If it was God's will that he survive to become the Messiah, then he *would* achieve it—such was the unshakeable confidence of the Son of Destiny!
Hadrian then turned his gaze toward Eve, hoping this human woman might succeed in talking some sense into her headstrong husband.
"I'm sorry; he has always been this stubborn." Eve offered a helpless shrug, signaling that the matter was beyond her control. As she watched Adam—brimming with eagerness to embark on his daring scheme—a flicker of deep anxiety crossed her eyes.
She couldn't shake the feeling that ever since Adam had learned of the destiny awaiting him—of the figure he was fated to become—he had begun to spiral out of control.
While he had never been a particularly cautious man in the past, he had at least possessed the prudence to exercise restraint.
He certainly would never have acted...