Beyond time, beyond stars, within the realm where existence folds upon itself, the Archons convened.
The Celestial Plane was not a place, but an eternal idea—a vast, sentient expanse of starlit marble and ever-shifting light. Reality itself unraveled here into silken threads of cause and effect, each woven into a tapestry that stretched endlessly across the void.
Within the Astral Concordance, the Seven Thrones stood in silent reverence. And upon them, the Archons sat—not as beings, but as laws made manifest.
They were Order, War, Fate, Judgment, Mercy, Truth, and Origin—but only seven of them remained. And only six now spoke.
A voice like the first breath of creation echoed through the hall.
"The mortal king has invoked the Covenant."
It came from Azrael, Archon of Order, veiled in living constellations. Reality bent around him. His every syllable sang of balance and unbreakable law.
To his right, Seraphis, Archon of War, stirred. Six luminous wings extended from his back, each feather forged in the crucibles of dying suns. His radiant spear crackled with restrained destruction.
"The Empire crumbles," he said, voice deep as collapsing stars. "Castiel calls not in devotion… but in defiance."
Beside him, the ever-shifting form of Elyon, Archon of Fate, chuckled softly. Her form was a paradox—beautiful and terrifying, existing in every moment at once. Golden eyes shimmered with infinite timelines.
"Desperation births chaos," she whispered, toying with a strand of fate that writhed in protest. "But something stirs in the weave… a strand not of our design."
A stillness fell.
Even here, something twisted—a thread that refused to obey.
Kael Arden.
Azrael spoke his name, and the light of the plane trembled.
"The Defiant One," he intoned. "The mortal who walks paths that should not exist."
The threads of fate shivered violently. Around Kael's name, futures collapsed and reformed in a loop that defied causality.
Seraphis' composure faltered.
"He breaks the order of all things."
Elyon's expression turned cold. "He is not bound by destiny."
And then, from a throne carved in perfect, immutable symmetry, Vaelith, Archon of Judgment, spoke.
His voice held no passion—only finality.
"We should have ended him."
Azrael turned slowly. "The Covenant has been invoked. Interference would violate our law."
Vaelith's gaze pierced dimensions.
"Then law itself must adapt. Or be broken."
The chamber darkened. Not from shadow—but from the approach of something older than stars.
A presence. A stillness.
The First Throne stirred.
The Veiled One—the First Archon, whose name no longer existed in any tongue—spoke.
Their voice was not heard but felt, like gravity given thought.
"Let it be so."
The Archons turned in unison, reverence etched into their essence.
The First, a being who had witnessed the birth of gods and the fall of Titans, gazed into the tapestry of all things—past, present, and the infinite yet to be.
Their form flickered—male and female, light and shadow, law and chaos.
"Castiel calls upon our covenant," they said, every word a decree. "And Kael… Kael becomes more than a man."
The threads of fate tore, ever so slightly.
The First traced the rupture with unseen hands.
"Let the Empire receive our blessing. Let our sword rise anew. Let our light burn through the veil of shadow."
Seraphis' wings ignited.
Azrael bowed his head.
Vaelith stared into the rift where Kael's future tried and failed to take form.
Elyon smiled—softly, but this time… with awe.
And then the First spoke again, and reality changed.
"And let Kael Arden be tested."
A silence fell so vast it threatened to swallow the plane itself.
"To see if he is but another soul clawing at the heavens…"
The First leaned forward.
"…or if he is the beginning of something we did not foresee."
The Celestial Plane dimmed. The stars paused.
And far, far below, a storm began to move.
To Be Continued…