CHAPTER 54: FIRST NIGHT

  “Nope.” Suryel said, digging her heels into the Lapis Lazuli floor.

  Her boots skidded uselessly against the polished stone.

  The corridor offered no friction, no mercy.

  Just smooth resistance and her own stubborn weight thrown backward. “I would rather not go in there.”

  Her voice cracked at the edges, pitched higher than she liked, and she hated that it echoed.

  The sound came back to her too cleanly, too clearly, like the corridor itself was listening.

  Her arms locked around one of the massive columns lining the hall, fingers curling tight as if the stone had personally sworn an oath to keep her alive.

  The column was wide enough that she could barely get her arms halfway around it.

  She pressed herself to it anyway.

  The stone beneath her palms was cool.

  Solid.

  Unmoving.

  Reliable in a way doors never were.

  The column hummed faintly with ambient light, a low, steady resonance that vibrated against her bones.

  It responded to her grip like it recognized panic as a language.

  Like it knew what she was asking for and was accommodating her for its amusement.

  She pressed her cheek briefly against it, eyes squeezing shut, grounding herself in the sensation.

  Cold.

  Present.

  Real.

  Ahead of them, the entrance to Metatron’s domain waited in complete stillness.

  Not closed.

  Not open.

  Simply there.

  Its surface was flawless to the point of offense.

  Smooth pale stone, polished to a soft gleam, reflective without offering reflection.

  No warped image.

  No shimmer of self.

  No distorted face to anchor her gaze.

  Nothing.

  It felt judgmental by default.

  Like something that had already weighed her.

  Measured her.

  Reached a conclusion she hadn’t been invited to hear.

  A squadron from Logistics passed at the far end of the corridor, murmuring quietly to one another as they went.

  Another lingered near a side alcove, reviewing a scroll that hovered obediently in midair.

  Life continued, unconcerned with her standoff against an architectural horror.

  Helel leaned back lazily beside her.

  One hand still looped around her wrist where he had grabbed her earlier after she’d made a break for the column.

  The grin on his face was sharp and bright, disarming.

  Suryel only felt her pulse tighten.

  “You say that now.” Helel said lightly, eyebrows wiggling in a way that would have been charming in literally any other situation.

  The smile reached his eyes, irreverent and warm.

  He gave her wrist a gentle tug, not enough to hurt, just enough to test resistance. “But you also said you wanted answers.”

  He tilted his head toward the door, his grin widening. “And Samael. So let go of the ivory, sunbird!”

  But her grip around the column tightened instantly before he could tug again.

  Her knuckles went white.

  “That’s cheating, Helel!” Yael stepped closer at once, wings shifting subtly beneath his mantle as his attention sharpened.

  His voice threaded concern through irritation, a familiar braid.

  He stopped short, eyes flicking to Suryel’s whitening knuckles.

  Then to Helel’s hand still wrapped around her wrist. “You should know better.”

  Helel still didn’t release her.

  Yael reached up and began to peel her fingers away from the stone one by one.

  Slowly.

  Patient as gravity.

  The column’s hum faltered faintly as her grip loosened.

  “You know she’d react.” Yael said calmly, freeing another finger. “When you dangle that prospect in front of her!”

  “Obviously?” Helel said, grin widening as her pinky finally slipped free. “It’s called motivation.”

  Suryel bristled, shoulders rising, nose flaring enough to stir air. “Yael. Are you implying I’m a horse with a carrot?”

  Yael blinked, genuinely caught off guard.

  His head tilted slightly, expression earnest to a fault. “What? That is… not what I said.”

  Her glare snapped back to Helel, sharp enough to carve the column in half. “And you. You’re provoking me on purpose.”

  “Guilty.” Helel replied without shame. “You’re more interesting when you’re mad.”

  He leaned in just a fraction, confidence tipping into challenge. “But why are you afraid of Metatron? He don’t bite.”

  “I didn’t even know he was one of the bosses!” Suryel burst out, words tumbling now that the seal on her memories had cracked. “I’ve been rude. Repeatedly. Aggressively.”

  A nearby Sentinel glanced over.

  Then wisely pretended not to hear.

  Yael’s brow quirked trying to remember with her. “What? When?”

  She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the column again, as if hoping it might swallow her whole. “When I followed him like a ghost for days while you were gone.”

  Helel snorted, the sound softer than expected, fond despite himself. “Ah… that explains Metatron’s side-eye. How could you sunbird? Oh no!”

  Despite herself, Suryel’s lips twitched.

  A small laugh escaped, sharp and startled, surprising her as much as it did them.

  She glanced at Yael.

  His faint smile warmed something tight and aching in her chest, something that still missed Earth in quiet, irrational ways.

  She’d missed this.

  The teasing.

  The normalcy.

  The way fear shrank when shared.

  “Okay, that’s it!” Helel said suddenly, clapping his hands together once.

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  The sound cracked cleanly through the corridor, drawing a few glances from passersby. “We are getting late! Time to get you inside. Even if I have to tickle you until you let go.”

  “Do not even dare!” Suryel snapped, half-feral, half-giddy as she bounced lightly on her toes, arms twitching with excess energy. “I will punch you.”

  “Oh?” Helel laughed, flexing his fingers and stepping closer. “We can test reaction speed. I’m willing to see who would be faster~”

  Suryel shrieked, bouncing on her feet once and grasping at the column even tighter.

  “Stop egging her on.” Yael cut in sharply, then softened immediately as he turned to her.

  “Suryel. Metatron is strict, yes. But he’s fair.” His voice dropped, coaxing, steady as sunlight through leaves. “He teaches by letting people fail safely. You’ll be okay.”

  Suspicion flickered in her chest.

  Maybe hope.

  Or relief.

  But she didn’t trust it yet.

  “Ugh. No.” She muttered, scrubbing a hand down her face. “That makes it worse.”

  Before either of them could respond, the door parted.

  No sound.

  No warning.

  No visible mechanism.

  It simply opened.

  Azriel’s head appeared first, dark hair falling into his eyes.

  His expression looked tired in the way of someone who had spent centuries dealing with inevitable things.

  His gaze swept over them, taking in the corridor in a single glance.

  Then he noticed Suryel clinging to the column.

  A flicker of amusement crossed his face.

  Brief but unmistakable.

  “I thought I heard bickering.” He said dryly.

  He stepped aside, opening the way fully. “Come inside. We’ve been waiting.”

  The Archive Tower was not meant for people.

  It rose endlessly, spiraling corridors stacked with shelves of books and floating records that rearranged themselves in quiet, constant motion.

  Some texts glided past on invisible currents.

  Others snapped gently into place like pieces of a cosmic puzzle being endlessly solved and unsolved.

  Narrow staircases clung to the outer walls like afterthoughts.

  At the Tower’s core a hollow column of space yawned, vast and open.

  A marble walkway circled the void, exposed to a raging sea far below and a clear sky far above, both wrong in ways that made her stomach drop.

  Vertigo hit in waves.

  Breathless.

  Impossible.

  Overwhelming.

  Suryel’s shoulders rose instinctively as they stepped inside.

  Their boots echoed too loudly.

  She counted her breaths under her breath, one hand flexing as if still gripping stone.

  “Too many stairs. Why?” She muttered, fingers curling into the air as they climbed.

  Each inhale measured.

  Each glance precise.

  Until they reached an open space.

  Metatron sat at a central table.

  Calm and composed.

  Light panels and floating text unfolded and refolded around him as he worked, records whispered softly as they shifted.

  His presence was absolute.

  Quiet.

  Precise.

  Unavoidable.

  Michael and Raphael stood nearby.

  Silent and ready, their attention already on her.

  “I have read Raphael’s report.” Metatron said without looking up. “And Michael’s.”

  Suryel straightened immediately, posture snapping into something alert despite the tremor in her legs.

  “And?” Helel asked, grin too bright for the weight in the room.

  Metatron finally lifted his gaze, meeting Suryel’s directly. “And I agree with their conclusions.”

  She swallowed.

  “You will not be training with me. Not yet.” He said, a faint smile touching his mouth.

  Her head snapped up. “What?”

  “You are not ready for abstraction.” Metatron said evenly. “You require structure. Repetition. Grounding. Teaching you here would do more harm than good.”

  Michael stepped forward slightly, voice firm but not unkind. “She responds better when the lesson has weight.”

  “And when the environment does not overwhelm.” Raphael added, inclining his head.

  Metatron nodded once. “Then it is settled. You will continue under their supervision.”

  And just like that, he turned away.

  Dismissed.

  The door opened again.

  Helel whistled softly as they were ushered out. “Wow. We walked all the way here for a cameo.”

  “Exercise.” Raphael replied mildly as they moved. “Exposure. Necessary for recovery.”

  Helel groaned. “Ugh. I hate cardio with purpose.”

  Back in the Infirmary corridors, Suryel’s steps steadied.

  The familiar space wrapped around her like a quiet hug.

  Other Sentinel moved through the halls, Healers murmuring, Attendants carrying supplies, life continued.

  She let her fingers trace the walls as she walked.

  Warm stone.

  Safe lines.

  Small victories in motion.

  Raphael stopped at the threshold to the Infirmary, tapping his staff once against the floor. “You are no longer an inpatient.”

  She froze. “Huh? Does that mean—”

  For a heartbeat, hope bloomed.

  Earth.

  Home.

  Escape.

  “You no longer require constant observation or bed assignment.” Raphael said. “You may return to your Abode.”

  The hope dimmed quietly.

  Her mind filled with the image of the ceiling.

  Vast.

  Dark.

  Infinite like a submerged sky.

  Shapes drifting wrong beneath the Black Lake.

  Her mouth closed. “Nope. Not after what happened.”

  “Valid reaction.” Helel nodded immediately.

  “You must acclimate.” Raphael replied. “It is yours.”

  “It’s infested…” Suryel muttered.

  Yael tilted his head. “Suryel… your Abode is good. What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Soon they were back in the Lapis Lazuli corridors with echoing footsteps.

  “So.” Helel leaned in, elbow brushing her shoulder. “Fear of the big scary boss doors huh?”

  “Intimidation.” She muttered. “With a side of existential dread.”

  “You’re exaggerating.” Yael said gently.

  “Exaggerating?” Helel snorted. “She was basically a statue glued to a column!”

  Suryel stepped on his foot without a word.

  “Ow!” Helel screeched.

  “Emergency preparedness.” She said sweetly.

  Helel hissed, noting and possibly plotting.

  At a bend, Yael paused. “I’ll leave you to settle in. Rest well.”

  Helel stayed with her to the threshold. “If you need anything,” He said softly, patting her head. “Just knock. Or shout. Or throw a pillow.”

  She nodded and stepped inside with a breath of relief.

  The ceiling was blue and dimly warm.

  Reflecting the sky outside.

  Night came.

  The ceiling changed to darkness.

  She did try to sleep.

  She lay on the poster bed.

  Unmoving with her eyes closed.

  But she felt as if the sky above her would ripple.

  Watching.

  Waiting only for her to sleep.

  She rolled onto her feet and fled.

  Her silent frame threaded through the corridor.

  “Helel?” She whispered when she reached the warm fully opened doors.

  His Abode was empty.

  She crept inside anyway, curling into the armchair. “I hope… You won’t mind.”

  Sleep stitched itself quickly.

  Helel returned later.

  He found her there after speaking with Michael, and sighed.

  He lifted her carefully, she started to stir awake. “You’re back…”

  “Shhh… I’m just moving you. You’ll wreck your neck.” He murmured. “Go back to sleep.”

  He settled her on his bed hidden at an alcove within the Abode, watching only for a second when he sat on his chair.

  Morning came loud.

  Yael arrived, his greeting cut short to the emptiness in her Abode.

  He immediately ran to Helel’s. “She’s gone. Do you know where is she?!”

  Helel’s head lifted from his desk, a parchment that was stuck on his cheek fluttered down to the surface, his voice was groggy from sleeping. “Yeah. I’ve got her.”

  He yawned and pointed a hand flittingly to the hidden alcove. “Over there.”

  Yael exhaled when he took a closer step. “Was she sleeping here? Why?”

  There was a short silence as they glanced at her, peaceful at last.

  “The ceiling.” He said simply, grimacing as he rubbed his neck. “ Ow. It was the ceiling.”

  Author’s Note:

  Aww our Suryel. Does she need to be ferberized 0w0.

  Choose: Michael, Raphael, or Metatron hahaha.

  Now why would I give you Yael or Helel, we both know you’d never sleep in your own if that’s the case :D

  Also —> Helel said: “But why are you afraid of Metatron? He don’t bite.”

  Yeah worse.

  He judges. Badum. Tss.