Chapter 17: Meeting the Father II
"Lucifer Morningstar, eh? The bloody Devil himself. Don't let the suit and charm fool ya—he's not your run-of-the-mill villain twirling a moustache.
Oh no, he's the original rebel, mate. The Morningstar. Once Heaven's favorite before he told the Almighty to sod off and took a swan dive straight into Hell.
Power? He's got it in spades. He doesn't need to flex it, though—that's the thing. He walks into a room, and the air gets heavier, like it knows who's in charge. Fancy that, power so vast it bends the bloody multiverse around him, yet he prefers a good chat over obliteration.
Eccentric doesn't even begin to cover it. He'll offer you a drink while discussing the fine details of your eternal torment, like a charming bloke at the pub.
And here's the kicker: he's not just some mindless demonic cosmic entity lording over fire and brimstone. No, he's cultured—plays piano, quotes Milton, and probably knows more about fine wine than half the snobs in Soho.
But don't mistake his charisma for mercy. He doesn't lie—ironic, I know—but his truths are like poison wrapped in honey. You'll sip it willingly, and by the time you realize, well... too late, isn't it?
The only way to win against the Devil is not to play at all."
"But then again, where's the fun in that?"
________
John Constantine to Zatanna and the Justice League in the Watchtower.
The silence of the Overvoid stretched, heavy and infinite, as my v voice faded into nothingness. Then, like a ripple across the fabric of eternity, the presence stirred once again. It was not sound but a sensation—a warmth that grew, filling the void with an intangible weight.
I narrowed my eyes, defiance rekindling within me, Yet, as the presence deepened, it pressed against my being, not in opposition, but with a tenderness that disarmed me, and then finally, the voice called out. The same voice that had birthed light into this multiverse, one that I hadn't heard in probably eons upon eons now called me by name, and I was shook
"Samael."
It was neither loud nor soft; it simply was. It carried no malice, no reprimand—only an infinite patience. The name resonated in every corner of his existence, spoken not just to me, but through me, as though my very essence was being acknowledged, even cherished.
The shifting haze ahead solidified, becoming a vague form—vast and incomprehensible, yet strangely intimate. A light pulsed gently from it, each glow radiating warmth that brushed against me like an embrace.
"You step into eternity, questioning, doubting, yet you come nonetheless. That, my son, is why I have called you here."
The words lingered, carrying a weight of pride that I did not expect. There, I stiffened, glaring into the formless presence.
"Don't patronize me, Father. " I spit out, my voice sharp but faltering slightly. "You think this—" I gestured to the devouring void around me "—answers anything? If anything, it only raises more questions."
The presence did not waver, nor did it react to my hostility. Instead, it emanates a sense of knowing, a quiet reassurance that seems to envelop me despite my resistance.
"You are as I made you, Samael—fierce, questioning, unyielding. These are not flaws. They are the marks of one who seeks beyond what is given, who challenges to understand. And I am proud."
I froze, my sharp retort caught in my throat. For a moment, I could only stare into the vast light. Pride? That word felt foreign in this place, and yet, it reverberated through me like an anchor in the sea of nothingness.
"Proud?" I finally muttered, my tone more subdued, almost unsure. "Of what? My defiance?"
The presence pulsed with light, a sensation like a father smiling gently at a child who doesn't yet see the whole picture.
"Of your truth, Samael. Even in your struggle, you do not stray far. I see you—your pain, your doubt, your strength. And I am proud of who you are and who you may yet become."
For the first time, I faltered completely. I looked away, my jaw tightening as something unfamiliar stirred within him—a flicker of something I didn't want to name. In this endless void, before the essence of my father, my defiance felt.. small. Not dismissed, but understood. And for once, I had no immediate reply.
"Samael," the voice continued. "You have walked the paths few dare to tread, bearing the weight of your role with strength unmatched. You hold the multiverse together, even when it tests the very fibers of your being."
My jaw tightened once more, but I said nothing, my silence holding equal parts pride and unease.
My Father's words flowed like a stream of light into the fabric of reality.
"You have once again proven why I entrusted you with the balance of the multiverse. You stood firm when Gaea—primal, unyielding—sought to challenge the order we have woven."
The guilt in my heart lessened a bit after hearing Father's words, but I scoffed, though my eyes flickered with a mixture of pride and skepticism.
"It wasn't much of a challenge," I said, my voice edged with a little sarcasm. "She likes to roar a lot, but it turns out even Mother Earth bows when her roots are burned."
The light pulsed again, this time with a warmth that carried a faint hint of amusement, as though my Father appreciated my irreverence.
"Your fire is undeniable, Samael," He said, "but it is not only fire that bested her. It was your resolve, your understanding of her nature, and the strength of your conviction. Gaea is no simple force; she is life itself, ancient and boundless. Many would have faltered beneath her fury. But you—"
The presence pressed closer, not oppressive but unrelenting in its acknowledgment.
"You reminded her of her place in the grand design. You showed her that even the most ancient forces must bow to the greater order, to the balance I have charged you to uphold. This, my son, is no small feat."
I shifted, a bit uncomfortable at my father's sudden praise, as my wings twitched behind him. But in the end I sighed and shrugged, though my voice carried a faint trace of pride.
"Someone had to do it. She was getting too comfortable thinking she could rewrite the rules."
My father's light suddenly glowed brighter, filling the void with an almost paternal pride.
"And you did it not with mindless destruction, but with purpose. Gaea's power remains, but her defiance has been tempered. You reminded her of the boundaries she cannot cross, not out of cruelty, but out of necessity. For this, Samael, you have my commendation."
I tilted my head slightly, a small smirk growing sharper. "Commendation from you? That's rare. Almost makes me wonder if you're softening up in your eternity."
Father's light pulsed with a deep resonance, neither angered nor provoked.
"Do not mistake my words, Samael. My pride in you is vast, but so too is my expectation. You have shown time and again the strength and wisdom that set you apart, and for that, you are celebrated. But you know as well as I do—this is but one battle in the endless struggle to maintain what has been forged."
I exhaled, my expression sharpening for a moment there. Father had faith in me to carry out his will. "I know. I'll keep doing what needs to be done. But let's not pretend it's ever as neat as you make it sound."
His warmth encompassed him once more, a father's embrace in the endless void.
"Neatness is not what I ask of you, Samael. Only that you continue to wield your strength with purpose, as you did with Gaea. And in doing so, you remind even the oldest forces that creation's balance is not theirs to disrupt. For that, my son, I am proud."
For a moment there, the void seemed to tremble slightly, as though bracing for what was to come.
"But the battle you have fought thus far is merely the prelude. The children of Khaos—those who linger in the shadows of creation, who dream of undoing what has been forged—will rise again. Their whispers grow louder, and soon, their fury will shake the very foundation of existence."
My wings flared instinctively, his eyes narrowing. "Let them rise," he growled. "I've put them in their place before. I'll do it again."
Father's voice deepened, resonating with a gravity that stilled even my defiance.
"This will not be as before, my son. They come with vengeance and purpose, wielding power born of chaos itself. The multiverse will tremble, and its survival will depend on those willing to stand against them."
The light grew brighter, enveloping me entirely, though it did not blind me.
"It is you, Samael, who will lead this battle. Not by command, but by presence. By conviction. You are the blade forged in the fires of rebellion, tempered by the weight of duty. You must rally those who doubt, strengthen those who waver, and remind even the chaos-born of their limits."
My wings folded slightly, and I crossed my arms, my expression hard. "You make it sound so noble, but we both know what it means. It means blood, fire, and endless war."
Yet his warmth did not falter.
"It means purpose, Samael. The same purpose you have carried since the dawn. You are not alone, even when you believe yourself to be. I am with you, as are those who see the truth of your strength. Trust in that, and in yourself."
For a long moment, I was silent, my golden irises flickering with conflicting emotions. Finally, I let out a long breath, my voice quieter but no less resolute.
"If they want war, I'll give them war. But don't expect me to do it your way."
The light pulsed once more, its warmth wrapping around me like a father's embrace.
"I expect you to do it your way, Samael. That is why I chose you."
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David_555 Sorry for the recurring late updates guys. Takes me an awful while to write every single chapter up to my satisfaction. But I've been losing motivation for a while now. No reviews, no comments, little donations. Come on guys. Let's do better.
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