Arthur followed behind Gabriel as she cheerfully talked about Heaven and her siblings. She was practically bouncing with each step, her wings fluttering slightly.
"And then there's the Garden of Eden! Oh, it's so beautiful, Kokabiel. I take care of it personally. The flowers there bloom in colors that don't even exist on Earth yet! You should visit sometime. I'll show you around!"
"That sounds nice," Arthur said, only half-listening.
There were more than four archangels, apparently. Twelve in fact. Gabriel had been listing them off with the enthusiasm of someone showing off their favorite collection.
"So there's Michael, of course. He's the Right Hand of God and Representative of Father. He leads the Primal Archangels. Very serious, but he has a good heart."
Arthur nodded. Michael had seemed... intense. Powerful. The kind of person you didn't want to disappoint.
"Then there's Raphael, the Archangel of Life. She leads all the Medical Angels. If you ever get hurt—though I hope you don't—she's the one to see."
"Got it."
"Azrael is the Archangel of Death. Don't let that scare you! He's actually quite gentle. He leads the Angels of Death, but they're more like... guides for souls. Very important work."
Arthur had seen Azrael briefly. Tall, quiet, with an aura that made you think of autumn leaves and peaceful endings.
Gabriel continued her list, ticking off each sibling on her fingers. "I'm the Left Hand of God and Protector of the Garden of Eden. I also lead the general angel forces."
"You mentioned that already."
"Oh! Right. Then there's Aniel, Archangel of Love and Grace. She leads the Guardian Angels and Principalities. She's very sweet, but also very strict about following rules."
"Uh-huh."
"Uriel is the Archangel of Retribution and Wisdom. He's the Guardian of the Miracle System—you know, the thing that lets humans perform miracles through faith. Very scholarly. Always reading."
Arthur tried to keep track. It was a lot of names.
"Kamael is the Archangel of Strength and Guardian of Heaven. He leads the Powers. Very muscular. Likes to train a lot."
"Of course he does."
"Tsadkiel is the Archangel of Knowledge and Clarity. He leads the Dominations. Very organized. Everything has to be filed properly."
Gabriel giggled. "Kabiël is the Archangel of Justice. She's the Judge of the Heavenly Court and leads the Thrones. Very fair, but also very scary when she's mad."
"Noted. Don't make her mad."
"Raziel is the Archangel of Mysteries and Secrets. He leads and protects the Cherubim. Very mysterious—fitting, right? He doesn't talk much."
"And Metatron?"
"Oh! Metatron is the Voice of God and Chancellor of Heaven. He leads the Seraphim. He's the one who usually delivers Father's messages to everyone. Very formal."
Gabriel stopped walking and turned to him with a bright smile. "And finally, there's you! Kokabiel, Archangel of Stars. You haven't been assigned a duty yet, but I'm sure Father has something special planned!"
Arthur nodded slowly, processing all of that information.
Twelve archangels. Each with specific duties and subordinates. It was like a massive corporate structure, except with wings and divine power.
But something was bothering him.
Arthur was still having difficulty accepting he was the supposed first villain of that ridiculous anime show who gets beaten by a perverted protagonist. But as far as he remembered, wasn't Kokabiel just a retarded ten-winged Fallen Angel, barely Ultimate class? He definitely wasn't an archangel.
In the show—or what little he'd seen of it—Kokabiel was a warmongering idiot who tried to restart the Great War and got his ass kicked by a high school student with a dragon arm.
So this means he couldn't rely on his memories to be accurate either. The timeline was different. The power levels were different. Everything was different.
Great. So his one advantage—knowing the future—was basically useless.
Meanwhile, the blue screen from that damn chat group was flashing nonstop in his head.
[New message in Dimensional Chat Group!]
[New message in Dimensional Chat Group!]
[New message in Dimensional Chat Group!]
He actively used his powers to ignore them. His eyes could stare at any star directly without going blind, so some flashing lights in his head weren't a big deal.
He suddenly noticed Gabriel staring at him with a pout.
"Kokabiel, you aren't even listening! Hmph, I won't talk to you anymore." Her cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk.
Arthur couldn't help but smile. It reminded him so much of Dawn when she got mad at him for not playing her games.
He instinctively reached out and patted her head gently.
Gabriel's pout immediately melted away. She closed her eyes happily, leaning into the touch like a cat.
"There, there. Sorry I wasn't paying attention. Can you please forgive me?"
Gabriel smiled contentedly. "Humm, sure. Only because you asked nicely and I'm a forgiving angel."
Arthur shook his head and smiled. She really did remind him of Dawn. That innocent happiness. That easy forgiveness.
Maybe this place wouldn't be so bad if everyone was like Gabriel.
They arrived at the Heavenly Throne Room. The doors were massive—at least fifty feet tall—made of pure white marble inlaid with gold. Intricate carvings covered every inch, depicting scenes of creation and celestial beings.
Michael and Raphael were waiting outside.
"Hello, Brother. I hope you are feeling better now?" Michael asked with a warm, big-brotherly smile. His presence was still overwhelming, but his expression was genuinely kind.
Raphael stepped forward, her green eyes filled with concern. "If you feel dizzy or unwell, come and see me, Brother. I'll take a look and make sure everything is adjusting properly."
Arthur nodded. "Thank you, Michael, Raphael. I am fine. We should not keep Father waiting."
He had difficulty calling Yahweh "Father." The word felt wrong in his mouth. He still considered himself Arthur Morgan, son of David and Christine. But he didn't wish to blow his cover, so he forced it out.
The massive doors opened from within. Metatron stepped out, followed by several other angels Arthur didn't recognize. Metatron was tall and dignified, with an air of absolute authority. His twelve wings were perfectly groomed.
He gave Arthur a nod. "Brother Kokabiel, Father awaits your presence. He wishes to speak to you alone."
Gabriel perked up and clapped her hands together excitedly. "Oh my! Kokabiel, Father wants to speak to you alone! He usually never does that. Which means he has a special duty for you. You're so lucky!"
Arthur smiled and nodded, while thinking internally, Or he's found out I'm an impostor and wants to casually snap me out of existence. That might not be so bad, honestly.
Maybe he could ask Yahweh to send him back. Although he doubted it was possible.
He sighed quietly and walked toward the doors. Michael gave him an encouraging nod. Gabriel waved enthusiastically. Raphael smiled gently.
He stepped through, and the huge doors closed behind him with a resonant boom that echoed through the chamber.
Arthur steeled his resolve and looked up.
The throne room was... indescribable. It wasn't just big—it was infinite. The ceiling stretched up forever, filled with countless stars that moved and swirled in patterns that made his new instincts sing with recognition. The floor was like polished crystal, reflecting everything.
And at the center, on a throne that seemed to be made of condensed light itself, sat a being of pure holy radiance.
Yahweh. The Biblical God. The Creator.
He had no face or discernible features. Just brilliant, warm light that somehow didn't hurt to look at. It felt like staring at the sun, but instead of burning, it was... comforting.
The being spoke, and His voice was gentle. Like a father talking to a nervous child.
"Come forth, my child. Let me see your face."
Arthur stepped forward hesitantly. Each step felt like walking through water—there was resistance, but not unpleasant. More like the universe itself was acknowledging his presence.
He stopped a respectful distance from the throne and spoke with as much respect as he could muster. "Hello... umm... Father."
The word still felt wrong. But what else could he say? "Hey, God"? "Sup, Yahweh"?
The being chuckled, and the sound was like wind chimes mixed with distant thunder. Amusement, clearly.
"It's alright, child. I know you are not Kokabiel. Not entirely." The light pulsed gently. "Fear not, I can sense you are not evil. Perhaps that's something better than the regular flow of time."
Arthur was gobsmacked. His mind went blank for a full three seconds.
"You know?" he finally managed. "Then, if it's not too much to ask, is there a way to return to my old world and old life? Not that I'm ungrateful, but I don't seek a new life. I was happy with my old one, even though I was just a regular guy."
There was a weight in his words. A desperate hope he tried to hide but couldn't quite manage.
Yahweh sighed, and somehow the sound carried immense sadness. "I'm afraid that's no longer possible, my child. Your soul, it has been touched by someone. Someone even I have no power to ask anything from."
Arthur's eyes widened. "What do you mean? Weren't you the one who brought me here?"
That didn't make sense. If God didn't bring him here, then who did? That being in the void?
Yahweh glowed brilliantly, and the light intensified until Arthur had to shield his eyes.
When he looked again, the formless being of light was gone.
In its place stood a young, handsome man who looked maybe in his late twenties. Golden hair that seemed to shimmer with its own light. Clear blue eyes that held infinite depth. Fourteen white wings spread from his back, each feather perfect and radiant.
He was wearing simple white robes, and despite his overwhelming presence, his expression was warm and approachable.
Yahweh stepped down from the throne and waved his hand. Reality rippled.
Suddenly, there were two ornate chairs and a small table between them. The table held a pitcher of wine, two glasses, and a plate of what looked like bread and fruit.
He gestured kindly. "Come, sit, child. Let us chat. What's your old name, can I ask?"
Arthur blinked at the sudden shift in atmosphere. One moment he was standing before the Almighty on His throne. Now he was being invited to sit and have wine?
He politely sat down in one of the chairs. It was incredibly comfortable. "I'm Arthur. Arthur Morgan. Or at least, I used to be."
Yahweh smiled as he poured wine into both glasses. "That's a nice name. Arthur. King of legend. Morgan, sorceress of myth. Your parents had good taste."
He handed Arthur a glass and sat down across from him. "You can call me Yahweh. I know you don't feel the fatherly reverence my children hold. It's actually quite refreshing."
Arthur sighed and looked down at the wine in his glass. "I don't mean any disrespect. But I only have one dad. And he's human. A little childish, maybe. Terrible at following tent instructions. Makes awful jokes." He looked up, and there were emotions in his eyes he couldn't quite hide. "But he's the best dad I could have asked for."
Old memories flashed through his mind. Dad teaching him to ride a bike. Dad helping with homework even though he was terrible at math. Dad making breakfast on weekends and burning everything but pretending it was "crispy style."
Yahweh gently reached out and patted his shoulder. The touch was warm, reassuring. "He must have been a great man if you love him so much. Tell me your story, Arthur."
Arthur chuckled bitterly. "You sure you want to hear it? It's rather boring. Just a normal kid with a normal family living a normal life."
Yahweh smiled warmly. "Of course. No story is boring, my child. It's only the storyteller who deems it so. And besides," he took a sip of wine, "I find mortal lives fascinating. Each one is unique. Each one matters."
Arthur sat back in his chair and looked up at the infinite ceiling. Stars twinkled back at him. His stars now, apparently.
"Alright then. Hope it's better than most stories you've heard."
Yahweh settled into his chair and gave Arthur his full attention. "I'm listening."
Arthur took a breath. "I was born in a small town. Nothing special. Dad was an accountant, Mom worked in administration at a hospital. We weren't rich, but we were comfortable. Happy."
He paused, organizing his thoughts. "I was always kind of a loner. Not because people were mean or anything. I just... preferred my own company, you know? Reading manga, drawing, that kind of thing. I had a few close friends, but I wasn't popular or anything."
"Sounds peaceful," Yahweh commented.
"It was. Then when I was ten, my little sister was born. Dawn." Arthur smiled at the memory. "I remember being annoyed at first. I was the only child for ten years. Suddenly I had to share attention. But then I saw her, and..." He shook his head. "She was so small. So fragile. And she looked at me with these big blue eyes, and I just... I knew I'd do anything to protect her."
Yahweh listened quietly, a soft smile on his face.
"Growing up was normal. School, work, home. I got a job at a dive bar when I was sixteen. Saved money for college. Made plans. Met a girl named Katie junior year."
Arthur's expression shifted slightly. "She was smart. Beautiful. Driven. We dated for two years. I thought... I don't know what I thought. That we'd figure it out together."
"But you didn't," Yahweh said gently.
"No. She wanted Harvard. Wanted me to follow her there, give up my own plans, my own dreams. And for a long time, I probably would have. I always went along with what she wanted."
Arthur took a sip of wine. It tasted like starlight and summer nights. "But then Dad suggested this camping trip. Just the four of us. Family time before I went off to college. And something just... clicked."
"What clicked?"
"That I had people who loved me for me. Not for who they wanted me to be. My family never asked me to be someone else. They just... loved me. Flaws and all."
Arthur's voice got quieter. "So I broke up with Katie. Over the phone, which was shitty of me. But I knew if I saw her face-to-face, I'd cave. I always did."
"That takes courage," Yahweh said. "To choose yourself."
"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just selfish." Arthur shrugged. "Either way, I went on that camping trip. And it was perfect. We hiked, swam, roasted marshmallows. Dawn collected rocks. Dad told terrible jokes. Mom took a million photos."
His hands tightened around the glass. "It was the best weekend of my life. Just... simple happiness. Family. That's all I wanted. That's all I ever wanted."
"And then?" Yahweh asked softly.
Arthur's jaw clenched. "And then we got in the car to go home. And some asshole ran a red light. Hit us right on my side." His voice was flat now, emotionless. A defense mechanism. "There was a metal rod. It went through me. Through my back, out my front. It was still moving. Toward Dawn."
Yahweh said nothing, just listened.
"So I grabbed it. Held it. Made sure it didn't touch her." Arthur looked directly at Yahweh. "I didn't think. I just moved. Because she's my baby sister, and I'd die a thousand times before I let anything hurt her."
"And you did," Yahweh said quietly.
"Yeah. I died." Arthur laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Bled out on a highway while my family watched. Last thing I remember is telling Dawn to look at the stars if she missed me. That I'd be watching over her."
He gestured up at the ceiling filled with stars. "Guess I meant that more literally than I thought."
Yahweh was quiet for a long moment. Then he spoke, and his voice carried something ancient and profound. "Your sacrifice was not in vain, Arthur Morgan. Your sister lived because you acted without hesitation. That is love in its purest form."
"Doesn't make it hurt less," Arthur muttered.
"No. No, it doesn't."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Arthur finished his wine. Yahweh refilled it without asking.
Finally, Arthur spoke. "So. If you didn't bring me here, who did?"
Yahweh's expression grew serious. "I do not know their true name. We only call them by a name we can perceive. But I felt their power when they sent you here.
They are... old. Older than me, perhaps. And they touched your soul with purpose."
"What purpose?"
"That, my child, I cannot say. But I can tell you this—they gave you a choice. They could have simply erased you. Instead, they gave you a second chance. A new life."
"I didn't want a new life," Arthur said bitterly. "I wanted my old one."
"I know." Yahweh's eyes were infinitely sad. "But that path is closed to you now. Your body is gone. Your world is beyond my reach. All that remains is the choice before you now."
"What choice?"
Yahweh leaned forward. "To live. Truly live. As Kokabiel, yes, but also as Arthur. You are both now. And you have the power to choose what that means."
Arthur sat back and stared at the stars above. His stars. His domain.
"And what if I choose to do nothing? To just... exist?"
"Then you will have wasted the gift you were given. And the sacrifice you made will mean nothing."
That hit harder than Arthur expected.
Yahweh stood and placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Your family would not want you to fade away, Arthur. They would want you to live. To be happy. To find purpose."
Arthur closed his eyes. "I don't know how to do that."
"Then learn. You have time. More time than any human could dream of." Yahweh smiled. "And you have siblings who already love you. A purpose waiting to be discovered. Stars that call to you."
He pulled his hand back. "Your story is not over, Arthur. It has simply taken a turn you did not expect. What you do with that is up to you."
Arthur opened his eyes and looked at Yahweh. He saw nothing but genuine compassion and understanding.
"Okay," he said finally. "Okay. I'll try."
Yahweh's smile brightened. "That's all anyone can ask."