Chapter 340: Chapter 339: Released
The first sound was not thunder, but something deeper—a bass tremor in the marrow of the world.
The crystal palace was dying.
Shards cascaded from the vaulted ceiling, ringing like funeral bells as they struck the marble below. The air was thick with dust and divine residue, bright motes that floated like the ashes of stars. Atlas braced himself against a fallen pillar, the air sharp in his lungs, his skin stinging with the leftover bite of celestial fire.
Gabriel stirred beside him. His six wings, once luminous as dawn, were tattered and blackened at the edges, each feather burning faintly like the wick of a dying candle. Still, his voice carried a power that made the air bow to it.
"They’re falling," Gabriel whispered hoarsely, his silver eyes fixed on the collapsing spires. "Our brothers. Our sisters. Their chains are breaking.....i can feel it."
Through the fractures in the palace walls, Atlas saw what he meant—brilliant figures tumbling from the high towers, their wings struggling to catch air after centuries of stillness. Cries filled the sky, not of pain, but of deliverance. The imprisoned Fallen were escaping.
"The gods kept them here?" Atlas asked, voice rough.
Gabriel’s jaw clenched. "For eons. The Archangels were sealed, one by one, in their own sanctuaries. Michael... Josephiel... even Lucifer. All bound beneath this lightless glory."
Another explosion rocked the structure. The glassy walls rippled as divine energy lashed outward. One of the colossal pillars groaned and snapped, toppling like a felled titan and smashing through the far corridor.
A storm of crystal fragments erupted outward, gleaming in prismatic hues before turning to dust.
"Move!" Atlas shouted.
He pulled Gabriel forward by the arm, and together they ran through the ruin, past broken thrones and shattered altars.
The floor trembled beneath them as divine wards failed—each one bursting like a heart ceasing to beat. Statues of gods wept molten gold, their carved faces cracking under invisible strain.
When they reached the grand stairs leading outward, Gabriel paused, turning back toward the radiant ruin. For the first time since Atlas had seen him, there was something like peace in his expression.
"They’ll be free now," Gabriel murmured. "Michael... I can feel him. His seal is gone." His eyes closed, lashes trembling. "But... the others. I cannot sense them. Raphael. Zadkiel. Even Lucifer’s flame—it’s dim. Too dim."
Atlas gripped his shoulder. "Then let’s go find out. Before the rest of this place decides to kill us."
Gabriel didn’t move. His wings flared once, instinctively, the remaining feathers scattering like sparks. "No... he can’t be gone," he muttered, as though to himself. "Michael—he was the strongest. The Almighty’s chosen blade. He can’t be dead."
Atlas said nothing. There was no comfort to offer a being whose faith was older than time.
The stairway split beneath them. They leapt, landing hard amid falling debris. Every breath tasted like blood and ozone. A molten river of divine essence snaked through the corridor, glowing too bright to look at. Atlas shielded his eyes. "What the fuck is this?"
"The heartblood of the palace," Gabriel replied. "When gods build, they bind power into matter. When that matter dies..." He trailed off as another quake shook the walls. "It releases itself."
They burst through the final archway. The open sky slammed into them—cold, vast, and blinding white. Below stretched the first tier of Heaven, once a paradise of terraces and light.
Now it was a battlefield. Fallen angels staggered through the wreckage, their once-radiant wings dimmed, their chains still dragging sparks along the ground. Columns lay split like bone, and the rivers of light that once wound through the gardens ran murky and dark.
Gabriel exhaled slowly, his gaze sweeping the ruin. "They will come," he said softly. "The gods won’t let this stand."
"Then we don’t stay," Atlas said. "You said your people are free. Let’s make sure they live long enough to matter."
Gabriel turned to him, studying him with a strange, searching expression. "You command as though you’ve done this before."
"I’ve led enough wars to know when to retreat."
Gabriel’s wings tightened around him like a cloak. "Then tell me something, mortal. How did you know? How did you know to mix the Key’s power with divine blood—to burn the lock from within? That’s not knowledge you could’ve stumbled upon."
Atlas didn’t answer. His throat was dry. The truth—that the voice, the Guide, had whispered it to him in the black silence—felt too heavy to speak.
When he stayed quiet, Gabriel’s expression shifted from suspicion to revelation. "Ah," he breathed. "You’re not just a prophet of the almighty, are you? The Almighty speaks through you."
Atlas hesitated, then gave a slow nod. Better to let the lie serve its purpose. "He guides me," he said carefully. "As He guides you."
Gabriel’s eyes filled with something like reverence—or maybe madness. "Then it is true. The Voice has returned. The silence is broken."
The tremors were growing stronger. The palace behind them tilted, an impossible monolith of light sliding into the clouds below. The sound was apocalyptic, a shriek of divine stone cracking across eternity. Gabriel turned one last time to watch it fall.
"I remember when we built it," he whispered. "When Heaven was whole. When Michael and I stood on its summit and sang the first Hymn of Creation." His voice broke, soft as ash. "We thought it would last forever."
Atlas’s jaw tightened. "Nothing lasts forever."
"Not even gods," Gabriel murmured. Then, as if shaking off memory, he spread his wings wide. "Come. The others must be gathered. The Archangels—if any live—will rally to the old sanctum."
He took Atlas’s arm, and before Atlas could protest, they rose—Gabriel’s wings beating once, twice, propelling them through the storm of falling crystal.
Wind whipped Atlas’s face, freezing tears from his eyes. The entire sky seemed to pulse with dying light.
"Where are we going?" Atlas shouted over the roar.
"To the first citadel," Gabriel answered. "To see who still remembers their name."