And Lo, the throne of God did blaze with glory, a sea of glass mingled with fire, and seraphim, their wings a flame of light, did chant in ceaseless aboration, their voices as the roar of many water. The firmament of Heaven shone, it's arches wrought of sapphire, like unto the heavens stretched above the earth, and the host of angels gathered—cherubim with eyes unnumbered, warriors clad in luce divine, and singers whose hymns did rend the cielo with awe. Their multitude was as the starts, their wings a canopy of splendor, and their cries did echo through the sacred courts, proclaiming the holiness of the Almighty, whose presence, veiled in light unapproachable, did fill the throne with majesty unutterable. The crystal sea reflected beams of glory, each wave a hymn, each ripple a prayer, and the air trembled with the weight of the divine will, as if the foundations of eternity did quake in reverence.
In the midst of this celestial throng stood Lucifero and Michele, twins wrought by the hand of God, their alma one, yet divided by the stirrings of their hearts. Lucifero, the morning star, bore a luce that dazzled even the seraphim, his wings a tapestry of flame and pearl, his countenance radiant as the dawn. His soul, a furnace of wisdom and desire, burned with a fervor that sought to ascend, to shine above the host, to claim a glory nigh unto the Lord's own throne. Yet in his radiance lay a shadow, a whisper of pride that murmured, "Why bow so low, when luce so bright doth shine?" Michele, his twin, was clad in strength, his wings a storm of silver, his sword a flame of righteous zeal. His alma cleaved to God's decree, his heart a bulwark of obedience, yet envy stirred within, for Lucifero's splendor drew the eyes of Heaven's host, a flame that Michele's steady luce could not outshine. Their bond, forged in the fires of divine creation, was a star both radiant and frail, its light a harmony, its shadow a rift that none but the Almighty could foresee.
The cherubim, their wings a flame of judgment, stood nigh the throne, their counsels veiled, their eyes piercing the hearts of angels. Some deemed Michele the Lord's anointed, his soul a shield for Heaven's law; others watched Lucifero, their thoughts troubled, for his luce, though radiant, bore a chaos that could rend the sacred order. The angels murmured, their voices a tide of awe and fear, some standing with Michele, their hearts as pillars of divine will, others swayed by Lucifero's voice, their souls alight with dreams of light unbound. And behold, a ritual of worship was decreed, a forging of stars to adorn the cielo, a test of luce and loyalty before the throne. Each angel was to offer a star, kindled by their alma, to shine in the firmament as a hymn to God's glory. The seraphim sang, their voices a torrent, and the cherubim watched, their silence a judgment, while the throne pulsed with the Almighty's presence, its luce a fire that burned yet did not consume.
Lucifero stepped forth, his wings a blaze of pearl and flame, his star a beacon that outshone the host. The angels gasped, their voices stilled, for his luce was a song of splendor, a hymn that seemed to rival the seraphim's own cry. Yet in its radiance lay a flaw, a note of pride that sought not God's glory but his own, a star that burned too bright, as if to ascend above the throne itself. Michele followed, his star a steady flame, its luce a hymn of obedience, its glow a shield that guarded Heaven's law. The cherubim nodded, their eyes approving, and the host cried out, "Michele's luce doth please the Lord!" But Lucifero's heart stirred, his alma wounded by their praise, his pride a flame that kindled thoughts of rebellion. The omniscient eye of God, though veiled, did see their hearts, and the throne's glory pulsed, as if to warn of strife to come.
The ritual done, the angels parted, their voices a tide of praise and whisper. Lucifero lingered by the crystal sea, his wings a shadow, his alma weaving dreams of glory. Michele approached, his heart torn by love and duty, his sword sheathed yet ready, his luce a beacon of divine will. Their eyes met, a bond of twins, yet a rift of stars, and the air trembled with words unspoken. The cherubim watched, their counsels hidden, and the seraphim's chant grew faint, as if Heaven itself did mourn the divide. And lo, the luce of the throne did shine, a fire that burned eternal, yet the twins' hearts, once one, now stood as stars apart, their alma a battlefield where pride and duty clashed. The Almighty's will, unyielding, did guide the cielo, yet the shadow of Lucifero's pride did grow, a flame that would not bow, a star that sought to rise alone.