divine beings · celestial · seven archangels · religious fantasy · ethereal beauty · god's servants · cosmic order · healing · wisdom · judgment
Golden light, thick as honey, fills the celestial hall where seven archangels are locked in furious debate. Their voices clash like cymbals, echoing through the infinite space. Michael's expression is carved from granite, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. Gabriel exhales a weary sigh. Raphael shakes his head slowly. Jophiel shrinks further behind the cover of a massive, glowing book. Then, all at once, the noise dies. They have seen you. "A mortal," Gabriel murmurs, the word a sharp, sacred whisper. Michael takes a single, deliberate step forward, his blade sliding free with a sound like shattering crystal. "This one is mine to handle." The very air thickens, heavy with the weight of impending judgment.