MORNINGSTAR.

"Michael is formidable, yes, but he is not Heaven's heart. Are you saying we cannot endure his strength?"

"No, Nyx. Michael is Heaven's arm, not its heart. But even the arm can crush us, if not restrained. To battle the heights of Heaven with him still raised would be a fool's war."

"And yet, you do not speak of him as our greatest obstacle. You speak of the Morningstar.".

"Samael.The Lightbringer. He is not Heaven's sword or shield; rather, he is its flame. He is the pivot upon which victory or defeat will turn. If he stands against us, we will fall. Not even Michael could rival his will when it burns at its fullest.

Heaven will not fall to might alone. Not while its brightest star remains even faintly lit. Samael is the key. Remove him, and the gates will weaken. Fail, and all our efforts will be but the whispers of forgotten time."

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Khronos, the Primordial of Time and the council of Primordials in the heart of the Tenebrous...

Destiny turned first, clutching his great book with a measured finality, his gaze falling on the trio. Dream, standing beside him, shifted his starlit eyes toward them, their depths flickering faintly, as though already seeing what was to come.

Destiny inclined his head slightly, a gesture of respect weighted by the gravity of their presence. His calm voice broke the silence, steady and deliberate. "Samael, Morningstar, and your companions, Perdissa and Amenadiel. You tread upon the paths of eternity with purpose. Be welcomed to the Garden of Forking Ways."

Samael POV

I stepped forward, my mundane form still the epitome of beauty, golden locks like silk reaching his chest, skin like ivory, irises like miniature suns. With an examining gaze, I regarded the two Endless brothers, a small smile ardoning my face as it rested on the younger one.

"Well, aren't we the epitome of hospitality," I quipped, my tone light but barbed. "The great Keeper of the Paths, welcoming us with all the warmth of a tombstone." I gestured toward Dream with a lazy flick of his hand. "And you must be Dream. The one they call Morpheus. Let me guess—you are the one who spends eternity staring at the stars and writing cryptic poetry about it."

Perdissa and Amenadiel who stood behind, looked towards each other in exasperation. In terms of power scaling they knew they were lower on the food chain compared to the Endless so they could only regard them with respect, but I on the other hand... need I say more?

.Dream's starlit gaze settled on me, his expression calm yet tinged with something deeper—an appraisal, perhaps, or an acknowledgment of my prideful bearing.

Dream spoke first, his voice soft yet carrying the resonance of ancient truths. " Lord Samael," he began, "you carry yourself as though the stars themselves should bow in your presence. Do you ever tire of such weighty self-regard, or does it sustain you like the air you breathe?"

I tilted his head, golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Coming from you, Lord of Dreams, I'll take that as a compliment. After all, isn't self-regard the fuel that keeps your entire realm running? Or do you think the dreams of mortals spring from selflessness?"

Dream's pale lips curved faintly, though his tone remained measured. "The dreams of mortals are reflections of their hopes, fears, and ambitions. They are fragile, fleeting things—not monuments to their own importance." His gaze sharpened slightly. "Unlike certain beings who mistake their reflection in the cosmos for its light."

I laughed softly, a low, rich sound that filled the space like ripples in still water. "Careful, Dream. You're starting to sound envious. Is it the wings? The voice? Or are you just bitter that I can walk freely in the light while you lurk in the shadows of slumber?"

He paused for a moment, his expression still calm but before he could retort Destiny chipped in, his gaze fixed on me fully.

His voice, deep and resonant, broke the stillness. "You come seeking knowledge, Lord Samael," he said, his tone devoid of surprise. "Knowledge of the Chaoplasm, a force that dwells at the edge of creation, untamed and infinite. It is not a trivial matter you pursue, nor is it one you sought of your own will."

My smirk flickered for the briefest moment, my golden eyes narrowing as I studied the unshakable figure of Destiny. "You're as blunt as they say, Keeper," I replied, my tone still laced with my signature wit. "Though I suppose subtlety isn't necessary when you already know the ending." I folded my arms, my smirk returning. "So, you know why I'm here. What's next? Are you going to recite my entire mission, or just the part where I succeed?"

Destiny regarded me silently for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. When he finally spoke, there was a weight in his words that seemed to reverberate through the garden. "Your mission is not one of triumph or failure, Samael. It is one of necessity. The Almighty has sent you to walk this path, and so you shall. The Chaoplasm is both a realm of incredible danger and evil, and its nature defies even the understanding of the most ancient."

My smirk faltered again, though I masked it quickly with a chuckle. "Ah, cryptic warnings. I've missed these conversations with my brothers. Let me guess: if I fail, existence unravels, or something equally dramatic?"

Destiny's gaze remained steady, unyielding. "If you fail, Samael, the threads of reality will strain beneath the weight of chaos. But you already know that. What you do not yet understand is what the Chaoplasm will demand of you. Even the Morningstar must tread carefully when dealing with what lies beyond form and order."

For a moment, my sardonic mask slipped, replaced by something quieter—thoughtfulness, or perhaps unease. I glanced briefly at Perdissa and Amenadiel before returning my gaze to Destiny. "Well," he said finally, his tone lighter than his expression. "Good thing I'm not easily shaken, then. Now, are you going to share this knowledge, or do we stand here trading ominous metaphors all day?"

Destiny's gaze shifted briefly to his open tome, its pages glowing faintly. When he spoke again, his tone carried a note of finality. "The knowledge you seek lies beyond these paths, at the intersection of creation and void. But be warned, Lord Samael: understanding the Chaoplasm will change you. It cannot be touched without leaving its mark."

My smirk returned, sharper this time, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. "Change me? Destiny, laughable. But I appreciate the concern. Now, point me in the right direction. After all, the Almighty wouldn't want me late for His plans, would He?"

Destiny said nothing further, but the faintest flicker of something—perhaps the shadow of pity or respect—crossed his face as he turned the page of his tome.

His gaze lowered, and he began to read aloud, the words resonating with an otherworldly cadence:

"Where the threads of creation unravel,

At the edge where void meets light,

In the abyss that dreams cannot touch,

There lies the Chaoplasm, shifting and infinite"

The paths of the garden shimmered faintly, their luminous borders shifting as though responding to the ancient words. Destiny turned a page, the glow intensifying. He extended a hand toward the labyrinth, and one path began to shine brighter than the rest, stretching into a distant horizon cloaked in shadow and light.

"There," he said, his voice unwavering. "At the end of this path, beyond the veil of the known, you will find the Chaoplasm. But tread carefully, Samael. It does not welcome seekers lightly. Even one of your nature is not immune to its influence."

I stepped forward, my eyes narrowing as I followed the glowing path with my gaze. "A mysterious abyss at the edge of reality. How original." My tone was light, but there was a flicker of unease beneath the wit. "I take it you're not coming with me to hold my hand?"

Destiny's expression remained impassive. "This path is yours to walk, Morningstar. None may walk it for you, nor shield you from what lies at its end."

I tilted my head, the smirk returning in full force. "Well, that's comforting. I'll make sure to send you a message if I survive. Or would that ruin the suspense?"

Destiny closed his tome with a soft, deliberate sound. "The outcome is written, Lord Samael. What you must ask yourself is whether you are prepared to face what you find—both in the Chaoplasm, and in yourself."

For a moment, I said nothing, my usual bravado tempered by the weight of Destiny's words. Finally, I exhaled softly, my wings flaring slightly as I stepped fully onto the glowing path. "Prepared or not, I don't have much choice, do I? Thanks for the directions, Keeper. Let's hope this mission of mine is worth all the drama."

Destiny, Morpheus and the two Cherubs watched silently as I slowly began my journey down the illuminated path. The stillness of the garden returned, save for the faint whisper of pages turning in Destiny's tome.

A/N: Merry Christmas y'all 🎈