MainaCynthiahw
Remiel
I died believing Heaven had abandoned me.
I was told life was a gift.
If that's true, then why did it feel like a punishment?
When I finally let go, I expected silence. Instead, I found judgment. They weighed my soul, called me a murderer, and cast me into Hell without ever answering the only question that mattered:
Where were You?
Hell welcomed my hatred. It gave me purpose where Heaven gave me condemnation. I swore I would never bow again-not to angels, not to God, not to the heavens that watched me suffer in silence.
Then I met an angel.
He stood where my life was judged.
He carries the voice I have hated ever since.
And somehow, he is the only one who has ever truly seen me.
If Heaven calls me condemned, then let it tremble at what it has created.
Michael
For as long as I have existed, I have known only one truth:
Heaven is just.
Every soul is judged fairly. Every sentence is deserved. Doubt has no place where truth reigns.
Then I saw her again.
A condemned soul with hatred burning in her eyes-a hatred I remembered from the day she stood before the scales and dared to question Heaven itself.
I should have struck her down.
Instead, I spared her.
Now every step I take draws me further from the only home I have ever known. Every answer I find leaves me with more questions than faith. And every moment I spend with her forces me to ask whether justice without mercy is justice at all.
If loving the condemned is betrayal...
Then I fear I no longer know what it truly means to be faithful.