Chapter Text
Heaven didn't have sombering nights, but this one felt like one.
The air in the golden chamber was thick with the smell of burning incense and divine alcohol.
The first man known by many as Adam sat slouched on his throne, His halo slightly crooked, wine dripping from his gauntlet. The grin on his helmet was bitter and sharp.
"Sooo…the big L's had a child," he said, words slurred but still venomous. "A princess. Of Hell."
Lute, his right hand woman stood nearby, wings half-folded. "That's… what they're saying, yes."
Adam scoffed. "Of course. Fall from grace, wage war against the divine order, and still get family privileges. The audacity of that snake."
He took another drink, radiant liquid spilling over his robe, and laughed too loudly. "You know what, Lute? I could make my own Heaven baby."
She hesitated. "Sir-"
"I could! Better than Lucifuck's! It'll be Pure, holy, glorious!" His words flared.
Lute took a cautious step back. "Maybe you should- "
But Adam was already raising his hand. Power surged through the room, bending the walls with blinding brilliance.
"Fuck it all! Let there be- " he paused, grinning- "something better!"
The blast shook the air. Light exploded like thunder. For a moment, it was as if Heaven itself held its breath.
When the glow died down, the silence felt wrong.
Heavy.
Alive.
Lute blinked through the haze, then froze.
Sitting at the center of the marble floor was a toddler. Barefoot, clothes made out of silky robes, hair pale blonde that shimmered white under Heaven's glow. Purple eyes wandered around before it stared at them.
Adam staggered back a step, wine gauntlet slipping from his hand and made a loud clanking noise.
"…What the fuck? It worked?!."
Lute's wings twitched, her voice barely a whisper. "Sir… I think… you just made a Seraph."
Adam blinked hard, his drunken state slowly disappeared in his panicked state. "No. No, no, no, that's- that's not possible. "
Lute's eyes widened. "Sir, we should… tell the High Seraphim."
He snapped his head sharply toward her. "Are you insane?! You want me to tell the entire choir that I just accidentally made one of their kind?!"
The toddler just kept staring, silent, unmoving.
Adam exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Alright, okay. This is fine. Nothing happened. We didn't make anything. The air just… condensed."
Lute tilted her head. "Sir?"
He glanced at the toddler again, he didn't blink. Didn't breathe. Just watching them
Adam's voice dropped to a whisper. "I am in so much fucking trouble"
Adam paced around in the middle of his chamber, fully-sober now. The toddler sat calmly on the floor.
Lute lingered by, hands clasped on her back "Sir, we… need to decide what to do," she said.
"I am deciding," Adam snapped, pacing in a slow circle. "You don't just make a Seraphim and file it under 'miscellaneous creation.' There's paperwork, tribunals, Michael asking stupid questions- no. Absolutely not."
"Then you're planning to hide it?"
Adam paused mid-stride, looking at her as if she'd said something scandalous. "…You make that sound like it's immoral."
"It is, Sir."
"Shhhiiittt." He rubbed at his face, armor creaking. "Alright- Alright! I'll just stash him here. If anyone asks, he's a… fan. Or he's a metaphor of me doing some holy shits or something. Heaven loves their metaphors."
Lute gave him a flat look, though her feathers still twitched. "You can't hide a child in here, sir. Not with your alcohol and weapons laying around"
"You just watch me, bitch!"Adam huffed
He then glanced over at the toddler, who hadn't moved at all. Still staring.
"Alright," he growled. "Enough of the silent act."
The toddler tilted his head.
Adam crossed his arms. "You gonna talk or what? Are you mute?"
The boy's eyes widened slightly, just a flicker, but enough.
"Yeah," Adam said, narrowing his gaze. "I see it. You're conscious. Not just some puppet. There's a mind in there."
The child blinked, his voice finally emerging, small, hoarse, and heartbreakingly human.
"…Is this the afterlife?"
The words hit the air like a stone dropped into water. Lute's eyes widened. Adam froze.
"What?" he asked carefully.
The boy looked around the chamber, expression dull and solemn. "This place…Is heaven right? I'm dead, aren't I?"
Adam didn't answer immediately. For all his arrogance, the question unsettled him.
Finally, he crouched down to the toddler's level, studying him. "You think this is death?"
The boy nodded faintly.
Adam's mouth tightened. "Well… this is Heaven. So, sure. Afterlife adjacent."
The toddler's eyes lowered. "…So I'm dead."
The words were soft, but something about the calm way he said them made Adam's spine twitch.
"Hold up," Adam said slowly. "You're a human soul?"
The boy looked up and nodded once. Simple. Certain.
Adam straightened slightly, eyes narrowing. "That's not possible. Human souls don't manifest like this. You're supposed to go through the gates, not-" he gestured vaguely, "-whatever this is."
Lute murmured, "Sir, maybe it's because of your magic? A soul entered here with your divine matter"
Adam ignored her, crouching closer. "Alright, kid. What's the last thing you remember?"
The toddler hesitated, gaze flicking toward the endless gold around them.
The light was swallowing everything now, white and blinding. The Angel's form pulsed around Adam, wings unfurling like blades of sunfire as the air split apart with a deafening hum.
Susie's voice tore through it first, raw and breaking. "Adam! Don't- !"
Ralsei's plea followed, desperate and trembling.
Kris's voice cracked through the roar, unsteady, reaching out to Adam even as the ground crumbled beneath them.
But Adam just smiled, tired, soft, almost peaceful, as the radiance burned through his outline.
"Tell Alphys…" he said, voice barely cutting through the storm, "…I'm sorry. I won't make it for dinner." Then the light consumed him completely, and the world went silent.
"An angel."
Lute's breath caught. Adam's face went still.
The light in the room dimmed slightly, as if Heaven itself leaned in to listen.
"An angel," Adam repeated. "You're saying one of us killed you?"
The toddler didn't answer yet. He just stared at him again.
Then… "No.. That thing is not like you"
For the first time in millennia, Adam felt something in his chest twist. He stood abruptly. "Alright. Enough weird shits for tonight. You- " he pointed at the toddler, "-stay quiet. No flying, no glowing, no theology. Got it?"
The child said nothing.
Adam turned to Lute, voice low. "He'll stay with me for now. Don't speak of today to anyone, got it?"
She hesitated, clearly uneasy. "And if the High Seraphim finds out?"
"Then we'll say it was a shared hallucination," Adam muttered. "One I'm still having."
A week passed.
The strange, accidental toddler still remained hidden within Adam's grand, lonely home in Heaven.
It was a place of light and silence, perched high among the marble terraces and golden bridges, where the laughter of winners rarely reached.
The toddler, quiet, strange, and far too observant for his size, had made himself at home in the most unexpected way.
He didn't cry. Didn't whine. Didn't demand anything. Instead, he cleaned. He dusted ancient relics that hadn't been touched in centuries, folded Adam's discarded robes, and somehow managed to fix the kitchen's eternal mess.
Sometimes he hummed under his breath while stirring something on the stove, a soft, wordless tune that felt human, almost nostalgic.
Adam never asked him to do any of it, but he didn't stop him either. He'd just lounge on his gilded couch with a glass of celestial wine, watching with a mixture of amusement and discomfort as the kid swept the floors of a home that never got dirty.
"Y'know, I could've summoned a maid spirit for that," Adam muttered one morning, pretending not to enjoy the smell of something sweet wafting from the kitchen.
The toddler only glanced back with a blank expression, too serene for his age. "I like doing it."
Adam raised a brow. "Weird kid."
Still, he didn't complain when dinner came out tasting better than any banquet Heaven had served in millennia.
He made sure not to comment either, only muttering something about "barely edible" as he cleaned the plate completely. Lute noticed, of course, but wisely said nothing.
By the end of the week, Adam had gotten used to the toddler's silent routines, so much so that the absence of noise felt strangely comforting.
But curiosity eventually got the better of him.
"So, kid," he said, swirling his drink as the toddler folded sheets nearby. "You've been here for, what, a week now? You got a name or do I just keep calling you 'hey, you'?"
The boy paused, folding the sheets slower. "...My name's Adam."
Adam froze mid-sip. "...What."
The boy looked up. "That's my name."
A beat of silence. Then the elder Adam snorted, nearly choking on his drink before breaking into laughter that echoed through the marble walls. "Oh, that's rich! Of all the souls in the cosmos, I end up with another Adam in my house? You're fucking kidding me!"
The toddler blinked, confused by his laughter.
Adam leaned forward, wiping a tear of mirth from his visor. "Nah, nah, can't have that. There's only room for one Adam in here, and you're not it, kid. You need something more, uh…angelic."
He snapped his fingers dramatically. "How about...Lumin.Yeah, that's got flair."
The boy's gaze sharpened. His voice was soft, but firm. "No. I'm Adam. That's... the name I'm using. And the one I'll keep."
For a moment, the air shifted.
The elder Adam felt something ripple in the space around them, a defiance of his divine authority.
Names were his domain. He'd named the beasts, the plants and the animals, even the stars themselves. And yet this... small human soul had just rejected him.
Adam stared at him, dumbfounded. Then a slow grin spread across his face. "...You just turned down a name from me?"
The boy nodded.
For a long moment, Adam said nothing. Then he laughed again, louder, more entertained than he'd been in centuries.
"You've got guts, kid. Fine. Keep your damn name. But if you're gonna live here, I'm not calling you little Adam, feels like I'm referring you as my penis"
He smirked. "You're Junior now."
The toddler, Junior, only sighed, too tired to argue with being older than history. Elder Adam leaned back, satisfied.
For months, against all odds, Adam managed to keep Junior hidden.
It was an absurd miracle, one that probably broke a few celestial laws of probability. The First Man had done many reckless things over the millennia, but concealing a living, breathing Seraphim-sized secret in the heart of Heaven?
That was new even for him.
Junior behaved well enough, thank heaven for that.
But the calm shattered one afternoon when a scroll of pure authority blazed into existence in the middle of Adam's living room, burning gold, marked with seven wings.
Lute nearly dropped the plates she was holding as she was doing dishes with Junior . "That's, High Seraphic Summons," she stated in alarm.
Adam looked up from his couch, eyes widening. "What- who's calling?"
"Seraphim Sera," Lute said, after she grabbed the scroll and read the content. Her voice trembled. "She requests your immediate audience. Something about... 'a new Seraphim.'"
The color drained from Adam's face. "Oh. Oh, fuck me sideways."
"Sir?"
He shot to his feet, grabbed the scroll, muttered under his breath. "They found him. They found the kid. I told him not to glow during naps- dammit!"
Lute stood frozen as Adam clutched his head, feathers bristling. "Sir, calm down, maybe it's unrelated- "
"It's never unrelated when she calls!" Adam groaned. "Alright, Lute, let's go, and kid?"
Junior looks at him.
"If I don't come back, burn everything. Especially the teapot. She can't know about the teapot."
"...What teapot?"
"Exactly!" he barked, and before Junior could respond, the summons engulfed both him and lute in radiant flame.
Not long after the summon, Adam and Lute materialized in the Hall of Virtues, massive, silent, overwhelming.
The place always felt too holy for him. The very light bent itself around the central dais where Sera waited, every inch of her radiating order and dominance.
Adam stepped forward, forcing a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "Hey, Sera. What's with the- "
"Adam," she interrupted, her tone sharp. "We have something important to discuss. About the new Seraphim"
He raised a hand in surrender. "Look, before you say anything- IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, OKAY?! I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE A SERAPHIM!"
The words echoed through the chamber. The silence was instant.
Adam threw up his hands. "Look, I was drunk, alright? I heard the big L's was having a kid and, long story short, light magic, divine essence, emotional instability, bam, there's a toddler in my living room! I didn't plan it!"
Sera slowly blinked. "…Adam," she said carefully. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
He froze. "...You don't?"
Her brows furrowed. "No. I summoned you because the High Seraphs have successfully completed a creation ritual. A new Seraphim was just born under our supervision. I wanted to inform you as part of senior protocol."
Adam blinked, processing that. "Wait, so- "
A sudden pop of divine energy flared behind Sera. A burst of light, soft and pure, unfurled into the shape of a small cherubic angel with bright curls and tiny wings. The little one giggled and peeked over Sera's shoulder.
"Say hello to Emily," Sera said warmly, motioning to the newly formed Seraphim child clinging to her robes. "Our new addition."
Adam's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.
"…Oh."
Suddenly, Sera's voice cut like a blade. "So Adam…Are you telling me that you have somehow succeeded in manifesting a Seraphim-level being without divine sanction?"
He flinched. "Uh..yes? But it wasn't…like..on purpose!"
For a heartbeat, Sera simply stared at him. Her eyes glowed brighter, feathers bristling like a thousand drawn swords.
"Emily? Be a dear and leave us for now please" The Cherubic Seraph just nods and pops away.
After Sera made sure that Emily was fully gone, the temperature in the hall rose from celestial calm to blinding heat. Even the distant walls seemed to recoil from her fury.
"ADAM, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE?" she roared, her voice cracking through the golden expanse like thunder.
"Only Seraphim can create others of our kind! It requires millennia of divine convergence, choirs, and cosmic divinity! You are a man, Adam! A first creation, not a maker!"
"Yeah, I figured that out!" Adam shouted back, shielding his face as light flared around her. "You think I planned this shit? I was drunk! Depressed! I tried to prove a point! next thing I know there's a glowing toddler!"
"By the Light- " Sera hissed, her wings dragging trails of raw radiance. "You've broken every order of Creation! There will be inquiry, containment I-"
Sera's expression hardened, glowing veins of light crawling up her arms. "You made a Seraphim. Without consent. Without awareness of what you were doing. You meddled with divine soulcraft, Adam. This is not a drunken experiment, this is heresy."
Adam swallowed, sweat beading despite the holy chill. "Right, so... how much trouble am I in, exactly?"
Her eyes burned hotter. "Enough to have your essence unmade."
He winced. "That's... not ideal."
Sera inhaled deeply, forcing her tone down to a lethal calm. "You will bring this creation of yours to me, Adam. Immediately."
Adam froze, then forced a weak grin. "You mean the toddler? Yeah, about that, uh, he's... probably busy doing chores right now?"
"ADAM."
Her voice rattled the chamber. He flinched so hard his halo flickered.
"Alright, alright!" he said quickly, hands raised. "I'll bring him. Just, don't go full apocalypse mode, okay?"
Sera's wings folded, though her glare could have melted the stars. "If that child is truly what you claim... then Heaven itself may not remain untouched."
Adam swallowed, muttering under his breath as he backed away. "...Junior's gonna get me obliterated."
And with that, the First Man vanished, leaving a seething Seraphim behind in the blinding halls of Heaven.
Ada- Junior had grown used to the strange quiet of Heaven. Four months wasn't long by celestial standards, but to him, someone who had once lived and died as a human, it felt like…well four months.
He spent most of his time tending to The first man Adam's home.
Polishing marble floors, reorganizing his bookshelves, experimenting with food that technically didn't need to exist. The rhythm gave him something to hold onto.
He could almost pretend he was back in Alphys's messy kitchen.
Sometimes, when he was alone, he'd hum a song Ralsei once played. His voice barely carried in the air, yet somehow it lingered longer than it should have, as if the walls remembered it too.
He wondered about them often, Susie, Kris, and Ralsei. Whether they'd found peace.
And Alphys...
He paused mid-sweep whenever that thought came. Alphys, who'd always overworked herself and smiled too easily.
His sister, his family. He imagined her calling his name through a silent house, waiting for a reply that would never come.
The guilt hit him like a slow pulse, steady and suffocating.
The last conversation he had with her was him saying he's gonna go on a study group.
Well.. What has been done cannot be changed. He just has to live with the guilt… forever.
Junior leaned back in his thoughts, replaying the past months in silence.
Elder Adam had been loud, obnoxious even, always in everyone's face. But beneath all that, he was kind, wise, and somehow carrying a quiet sadness that peeked through in rare moments.
Still, for all his loudness and his ego, Adam wasn't cruel. He let Junior stay, grumbled whenever he cooked but always finished the plate, and even bothered to name him.
Though he refused to be called anything else other than "Adam."
So the first man just called him "Junior".
And then there was Lute. Polite, efficient, a bit too serious for her own good- but she had a strange softness when she thought no one was looking.
She'd always fix his wings when they got messy, always made sure he wasn't left alone for too long.
Junior could swear she smiles like a mother spending her time with her child. But he won't say that to her face, she might murder him.
He sighed, folding his hands and gazing out at Heaven's horizon, an endless expanse of light and city that never sleeps.
"I guess this is my 'afterlife,' huh?" he murmured to himself. "Not bad, but... kinda dull. I wish something exciting would happen"
Suddenly, a bright light was in front of him.
Junior had barely processed any of it when Adam appeared, out of breath, eyes wide, his tone somewhere between panic and prayer.
"Listen, whatever happens, just nod. Don't talk back. Act innocent."
Before Junior could even ask what's happening, his world folded in on itself.
A flash.
Then silence.
Then light once more.
Now he stood in the center of that impossibly wide hall, light pooling beneath his feet as though afraid to touch him.
Lute stood just behind him, hands folded, gaze lowered, while Adam stood to his right, stiff as stone, his expression carved from panic barely contained by composure.
The Seraphims were enormous, yet distant, like constellations pretending to be people. Their gazes felt heavy, as if each pair of eyes measured every atom of his soul.
Finally, one of them spoke, a woman's voice, calm but sharp enough to slice through eternity.
"This is the one?"
Adam straightened. "Yes, Sera."
The Seraphim, Sera, apparently, shifted slightly in her seat, light glinting off the curve of her feathers. Her eyes, molten gold and endless, drifted to Junior.
She looked at him for a long, uncomfortable beat, as though searching for something that shouldn't exist.
"…Your name," she said softly.
Junior swallowed. The light burned, the air hummed, and all he could think to say was-
"Adam."
Her expression didn't move, but the temperature in the hall seemed to drop a degree.
"I do not have the time for jokes," she said. "Your. name."
Junior hesitated, glancing nervously towards the Adam beside him. The older one gave a tiny shake of his head, the kind that screamed don't mess this up.
"…Adam," Junior repeated, weaker this time.
The sound of feathers rustling echoed like a storm front. Sera's wings unfolded slightly. Before she could speak again, Adam's hand shot up.
"His name is Junior!"
The entire hall seemed to inhale at once. Even the light around them flickered.
Sera's voice suddenly cut through the stillness.
"Adam. Do you understand the gravity of this situation?"
Junior was about to answer but then he realized she wasn't talking to him, rather-
"I might… depending on which part we're talking about."
-the first man himself.
Sera's expression was unreadable, though her wings shifted, a flicker of restrained emotion. "You created a Seraphim. Do you deny it?"
Adam's jaw tightened. "No. I-" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to. It wasn't on purpose."
A male voice suddenly came from the side. "Intent does not erase the act. Only Seraphim can create another Seraphim, Adam. What you've done is- "
"Impossible," A second voice finished quietly, his hands hovering over a scroll that recorded divine proceedings in real time. "Or at least it should be."
Junior shifted nervously, his purple eyes flicking from one face of light to another. "Um… am I in trouble?"
Sera's gaze softened, for a fraction of a second. "You are not on trial, child." Then her eyes returned to Adam. "He is."
Adam exhaled slowly. "Yeah. Figures."
The first male figure from earlier leaned forward slightly, his wings casting long shadows across the marble-like floor. "Explain to us, then- how a human soul ends up within a Seraphic vessel."
That question made every other Seraphim stir. Even Lute turned to Adam, equally curious- equally wary.
Adam's tone grew guarded. "I don't know how it happened. I wasn't trying to do anything divine. I was being drunk as always Michael, then… he appeared." He nodded toward Junior. "Fully formed."
The second male Seraphim pen halted midair. "A construct that self-actualized into being?" He looked down, brows knitting in faint disbelief. "Do you have any idea what kind of force that implies?"
"Yeah," Adam muttered. "That's why I hid him from you Mets"
A low murmur rippled through the chamber- not voices, but the resonance of wings shifting.
Michael's eyes narrowed. "You concealed the existence of a new Seraphim from Heaven itself."
Adam met his gaze squarely. "Because I wasn't sure what Heaven would do to him! ."
That silenced them.
Sera's voice softened, but only slightly. "You feared we would destroy him."
Adam looked at Junior, at the small, quiet boy who had somehow grown comfortable standing next to beings of light without flinching. "I didn't want to take the chance."
There was a long silence.
Then, Mets, who junior assume is Metatron- finally spoke. "Regardless of intent, the fact remains. a mortal-born soul has manifested Seraphic essence. Such a thing disrupts the entire chain of celestial creation."
Michael's tone was grimmer still. "And if words spread below, it could incite chaos. Both among angels and-"
"-among demons," Sera finished.
The implication hung there.
Junior looked up " I'm sorry…I didn't mean to cause trouble."
Sera regarded him for a long, still moment.
There was no hostility in her gaze, only a profound curiosity, and perhaps, the faintest trace of pity. "Child… Do you remember your life before this?"
Junior hesitated. "Yes.. "
Adam stiffened slightly.
Michael's voice sharpened. "If this boy was human, and has memory of a world below while not being one of the winners, then this is not simply a celestial anomaly. It's a breach. Even you were once a winner Adam. "
Metatron's quill resumed scratching. "Then the question becomes not 'how' he was made, but why he was allowed to reach Heaven without passing the gates at all."
The sound of his words filled the space like the ticking of an unseen clock.
Adam finally spoke after a beat of silence. "Look, whatever he was… he's here now. And if Heaven has any sense of mercy, it'll treat him as it would any lost soul."
For a while, no one responded. The Seraphim exchanged glances.
At last, Sera rose. Her wings unfurled, radiance spilling across the floor like a dawn.
"Then we shall decide what to do with this 'Junior' of yours, Adam. But until then… he remains under your custody."
Adam nodded. "Understood."
Michael didn't look convinced. "If he shows any sign of corruption, or if that mortal soul destabilizes- "
"I'll deal with it," Adam said sharply.
The room dimmed back into calm as Junior and Lute were dismissed.
The high Seraphim still has some words that need to be said to the first man.
As the two turned to leave, Junior whispered, "...You didn't have to defend me, you know."
Adam just ruffled his hair roughly, expression unreadable.
The air outside the high Seraphim chamber was warm with sunlight. Junior sat at the base of one of the crystalline pillars, knees pulled to his chest, chin resting on them.
It had been silent for a while.
Lute stood beside him, wings folded neatly, expression unreadable but her fingers fidgeted behind her back. She'd been glancing toward the sealed doors every few moments, as if she could hear what the Seraphim were saying inside.
"So…" Junior finally said, breaking the silence, "...how long would those talks take?"
Lute didn't look down. "Between five minutes and five days, depending on how many of them think they're right."
Junior huffed. "So… forever."
"Essentially."
Before junior could say anything else, a faint chime echoed down the hall, and both of them turned.
A small golden door opened from the far side, and a bright figure peeked out, little wings flickering.
She was shorter than Junior by a head, wearing a pure white tunic trimmed with blue thread that shimmered when she moved.
Her head is a white oval with three eyes, a third eye on her forehead. She has no hair or nose, and her lips are blue. She has four white feathered wings behind her head and a halo with a white eyeball and black pupil.
"Um, " she said, blinking up at them, "-is this where the Seraphim council is?"
Lute straightened. "You shouldn't be here, Lady Emily."
The girl flinched but smiled anyway, clasping her hands behind her back. "Sorry! Miss Sera said I could walk around as long as I didn't fall off anything." She stared up at Junior and gasped. "You must be the new Seraphim! Like me!."
Junior blinked. "...Like you?"
She nods in excitement "Mhm! My name is Emily! What's yours?"
"Adam… but everyone calls me Junior" Junior gave out his hand to shake which she took vigorously.
She flies closer, three eyes wide with curiosity, taking in everything about him."You're different," she said,fully fascinated. "You don't have as many wings as I do."
Junior looked back over his shoulder. His two golden wings folded neatly. "A pair is enough for me"
"Oh." She nodded. "Maybe the rest haven't grown yet."
That earned a small smile out of him. "Maybe."
Lute exhaled quietly, rubbing her temple. "Lady Emily," she said, tone patient but weary, "shouldn't you be resting? You were only born three days ago."
Emily puffed her cheeks, clearly used to being told that. "I was resting! But it's boring just lying there doing nothing. Everyone kept whispering about some 'weird Seraphim,' and then I saw the doors open earlier and- well, I wanted to see."
She turned back to Junior, tilting her head. "You don't look like a Seraphim, though."
Emily leaned closer, examining him with an intensity that only children could get away with. "You look… more human."
He hesitated, then admitted softly, "That's because I was."
Her eyes widened. "Really?"
He nodded. "I think so. I remember… some things from my past."
Emily's voice dropped to a whisper. "Was it sad? Remembering your past?"
Junior thought about it. "Sometimes. But there were people here who made it better."
Emily smiled, as if she understood something she couldn't put into words. "When I was born, I heard singing. A thousand voices. I think that's what the choirs sound like when they're scared."
Lute raised a brow. "Scared?"
Emily nodded firmly. "They're not sure if what they're doing would work. So when I appeared, everyone stopped singing and just stared. Then Sera said, 'well, she's here now,' and that was that." She giggled. "It's funny- everyone was glowing so bright I thought I was inside a star."
They talked a little longer after that, Emily asked endless questions like, what food tasted like, what colors were like below, what it felt like to touch water, to sleep, to dream. Junior tried to answer the best he could.
Emily listened to every word with wide-eyed wonder.
For a moment, it almost felt like a normal conversation between two children.
But then the faint sound of the council chamber changed tone, the air around them grew heavier.
Lute straightened immediately. "They're wrapping up."
Emily's halo flickered nervously. "Is that bad?"
Junior swallowed, eyes drifting to the door. "We'll find out."
And as the heavy gates began to open, Emily quietly reached out and grabbed Junior's hand.
"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll tell them you're not bad."
Junior didn't have the heart to tell her it might not be that simple.
The heavy double doors finally creaked open fully, and the light spilling from within dimmed as Adam, the first man, stepped out.
His posture was weary, shoulders slumped, expression unreadable but undeniably drained. Junior and Lute straightened from where they'd been against the marble wall, with Emily still floating curiously nearby.
Adam exhaled. "Alright," he said, rubbing the bridge of his digital nose, "first thing first, Junior, you're not getting unmade."
Lute visibly relaxed, though she still had an edge in her stance.
Junior just blinked. "…Cool?"
Adam gave him a tired half-smile. "Cool. For now."
Then he sighed again, gesturing vaguely at the doors behind him. "Second. Your Earth? Not the same as this one. Not even close. There's no humans with seven soul traits, no monsters, no darkners, none of that. The Seraphim did a full dive and confirmed it."
Junior clenched his fist but didn't say anything.
"Guessing you already know that huh? At least a hunch," Adam muttered.
Junior gave a slight nod while looking down.
"Honestly, they're kinda jealous. Said your world's Creator had 'more creative direction.' " Adam chuckle admittedly.
He shifted his weight before continuing. "Right, Third... the 'Angel' creature thing you merged with was probably the reason why you- " he looked at Junior, "-registered as Seraph-level. The high Seraphim is gonna keep an eye on you from now on though, so there's that. "
Junior frowned. "Keeping an eye? Like, mentor me or spy on me?"
Adam hesitated. "...Yes."
Before Junior could speak his mind, Adam added, "Oh, and uh- Gabriel saw your memories about your mom and uhh…She might have made some weird conclusions."
Junior's brow furrowed. "What?"
"Yeah," Adam said quickly, holding up a hand.
"Don't freak out. Our Gabriel might've...gone maternal on you. She's been screaming 'where's my baby!' for the last five minutes. Michael's trying to restrain her right now."
A muffled "LET ME SEE MY SON!" echoed faintly from behind the door, followed by a crash.
Lute frowned. "...She's claiming Junior as her son?"
"Oh, absolutely," Adam said tiredly. "Michael's probably giving his all just to stop her right now."
Adam clapped his hands once, as if to pull things back on track. "Anyway. Fourth thing. Your status as a seraphim will remain hidden from the public, so "officially", You're one of my many many kids. Buuut the Seraphim are still going to teach you some stuff. Probably alongside Emily, since she's still learning too."
Emily perked up, eyes bright. "We'll be classmates!"
Before Junior could say anything, suddenly, a faint BOOM rattled the walls, followed by Michael's exasperated yell.
"GABRIEL, NO! THAT'S A SACRED WALL!"
Adam pinched his digital nose and turned around to enter the room once more. "Lute, take Junior home while I'll go handle that."
He turned back once more. "If she gets through, run."
Then he disappeared back through the door.
Emily turned to Junior and Lute, blinking. "So... is this normal?"
Lute just sighed. "You'll get used to it."
Junior sighed in weary. "I really hope not."
A few years had slipped by in Heaven's peculiar sense of time, where centuries could pass between one heartbeat and the next.
Junior had settled well into the strange rhythm of celestial existence. He was quiet but observant, doing chores no angel should care about, polishing marble floors, mending torn scripture pages, organizing Adam's cluttered office with his tiny body.
Apparently, even being older than his past life now, Junior is still a toddler shaped boy. Something about Angels age slower.
He never complained and just do what he always do, be a good cook and cleaner.
Adam often found himself watching the kid from a distance, pretending not to care.
Emily was his polar opposite, radiant and impulsive, a spark of chaos with feathers. She'd drag Junior everywhere, insisting he "needed more fun," which usually meant pulling him into trouble.
Junior tolerated her with a patience beyond his years. Whenever she pouted, he'd sigh and go along, like someone remembering the shape of joy through her laughter.
Adam had long given up trying to discipline them. He just let them be .
That peace shattered one afternoon when Junior wandered into Adam's office holding a gilded tablet.
"…'Extermination Protocol,'" he read aloud, handing Adam the tablet. "What's this?"
Adam froze. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he exhaled sharply through his nose, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth.
"Ah, that," he muttered, leaning back against his chair. "That's work business. My business."
Junior didn't say anything, he just looked at him, waiting.
Adam finally shrugged. "It's the purge. The big one. Every once a year, we sweep through Hell. Clean out the filth before it festers. Demons, sinners, whatever's crawling down there, they get handled."
The way he said it was disturbingly casual, like he was talking about pest control instead of mass annihilation.
"You mean killed?" Junior asked, tone still even.
Adam's eyes flicked toward him, sharp, but not angry. More like he was measuring him. "Exterminated," he corrected. "Those fuckers earned it. Every one of them."
Silence filled the room for a beat.
Junior finally nodded. "…I see."
That was it. No moral outrage, no lecture about right or wrong. Just a quiet acknowledgement.
Adam watched him for a long time after that. He'd been ready for the kid to blow up, to accuse him of cruelty or hypocrisy. Heaven's little conscience. Instead, the boy had only absorbed it.
"Good," Adam muttered finally, half to himself. "The last thing I need is another angel whining about mercy."
More years passed after that revelation.
Adam, Heaven's most unpredictable commander had grown used to finding his kitchen stocked, his reports sorted, and his coffee brewed just right.
Adam eventually brought Junior closer into his world. He figured if the kid was going to stay in Heaven, he might as well learn what Heaven does.
So, one day, he introduced Junior to his division, the Exorcists.
It was meant to be a simple meet-and-greet, a light day. But as soon as they arrived at the training grounds, every one of his girls in sight zeroed in on the young seraph.
Adam hadn't accounted for how popular Junior would become.
The Exorcists, a mix of sharp-tongued angels and battle-hardened winners, didn't usually warm themselves to anyone. But within minutes, the girls were circling Junior like curious hawks.
"Oh, so this is the kid the Commander's been hiding from us," one teased.
Another leaned on her spear, smirking. "He's cute. Too cute. You sure he's one of yours Sir?"
Junior looked overwhelmed but polite, offering a faint bow and a small, awkward smile.
Adam crossed his arms, glowering. "First of all. Fuck you Amanda. I'm the fucking original Casanova so of course the kid got charm like me. Secondly, give him some space will ya? The kid looks like he's about to faint. "
That only made them swarm Junior harder.
Adam scowled but said nothing more. He wasn't jealous, absolutely not. He was Adam, the First Man, made in God's image, Heaven's oldest bastard alive.
Jealousy was beneath him. It's just that… he didn't like seeing his squad distracted, that's all.
Later, when the laughter faded, Adam tossed Junior a weapon of his choice, which junior picked a training bow, a sleek construct of gold and white light. "Alright, kid. Let's see what you can actually do. Impress me."
Junior inspected it thoroughly, not even flinching at the weapon's glow. He drew the string back, no hesitation, no strain, and fired.
The arrow flew, splitting the center of a moving target dead-on, then ricocheted to hit another right behind it.
The whole squad went quiet.
"…Holy shit," one of them whispered.
Adam blinked, then barked out a laugh. "You've been holding out on me, huh? Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"
Junior lowered the bow, expression calm. "Didn't you see my past life?"
There was a beat of silence. Adam stared, then muttered, "…Shit. Forgot about that."
After that, word spread fast, Adam's "kid" was terrifyingly good with a bow. The Exorcist ranks began calling him Little Arrow or Hawk-Eye, depending on who you asked.
Junior never reacted much to the nicknames, though Adam noticed the faintest hint of embarrassment whenever someone said it around him.
Still, he didn't protest. He just trained, learned, and adapted. Quiet, disciplined, precise, everything Adam's troops were supposed to be.
And Adam… was proud.
Not that he'd ever admit it.
Many more years passed by.
Adam stood in front of his army of exorcists, spinning a celestial orb lazily between his fingers. "You know what I'm thinking?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Lute, standing dutifully at attention next to him, tilted her head. "Sir?"
"Bring your kid to work day," Adam said, grinning. "Extermination edition."
Lute blinked, Knowing where this is going "Sir… that seems… inadvisable."
Adam waved a dismissive hand while stretching his back. "Nonsense. Junior is competent. He's ready. He can handle it. And honestly, someone's gotta watch my back in the field."
Adam suddenly disappears in a burst of Light and appears once more in a blink of an eye, he holds Junior by the collar like bag before setting him down, "You're coming to watch the extermination, front row, no excuses."
Junior sighs, pats an imaginary pocket for consent, and "You do realize this is abduction?"
Adam's grin was wide, practically radiating excitement. "Nonsense," he said, clapping the boy on the shoulder.
Suddenly Adam hands on Junior shoulder glow before it engulfed his whole head.
After the glow died down, Junior felt like something had wrapped around his head. A helmet, but he still could see clearly.
"welcome to my little slice of chaos. Time to see what real work looks like."
Junior's eyes flickered between him and the lined-up Exorcists. "This… is really your job?"
Adam snorted. "Kid, this is the fun part. Trust me, paperwork comes later. Now, focus. Observe. Don't get in the way."
With that, he raised a hand, and a golden portal bloomed in the air, humming with the raw heat of Hell. One by one, Adam led Junior and the Exorcists through the swirling vortex. The air grew thicker, the smell acrid but sharp, and the light dimmed to a blood-tinged glow.
Everything seemed… normal, for Hell. That is, until they abruptly stopped.
Ahead, a small blonde-haired child sat astride a pair of hellish goats, their eyes burning red and smoke curling from their nostrils. The kid waved a hand sharply.
"Go home, please!"