Simon looked at the three of them. These weren't just friends or former angels. They were pieces of a story that had gone unfinished for far too long.
Mike, Gabriel, and Luca stood before him, each bearing the weight of their own pasts. They had followed him here, not out of obligation, but because they sensed a truth that eluded their understanding. Simon had always been different, more than he appeared, but the full extent of his nature remained concealed. it also did not help that they loved him so.
This time, he would walk the path he was always meant to walk. He would not shrink from his responsibility. He would be the Shepherd of creation. Everything under the skies was his to look after. He would not burden "God," as everyone had called 'him' at some point. He would not regress himself into an angel, as he had done before. He would be the Shepherd. He would pass judgment. He would correct all that had strayed. He would be the father of creation and lord over all.
But first, he would need to build his power, his faction, and his personal foundation.
The ground beneath Simon's feet was no longer solid. It breathed. Slow, steady pulses, like something buried deep was waking up, stretching. The ash that blew in the wind didn't dance anymore. It clung to the skin like oil, heavy and damp.
Simon didn't speak as he walked. He didn't need to. Luca followed him without question. The air around them was thick with weight. Something was coming. Something old. Not just a memory, but a reckoning.
They passed the broken altar where the village once held prayer. It was abandoned now. Burnt. But the stones still glowed faintly with a heat that didn't come from fire.
From behind the charred remains of a wall, Mike stepped out. His robes were torn, his hands dusted with dried blood, not his own. He looked at Simon, then at Luca, then said quietly, "You saw it too?"
Simon stopped walking. "I remembered."
Mike nodded. His face was tired, but not afraid. "Then we don't have much time."
Gabriel arrived moments later, not walking like the others but gliding just above the black earth, his bare feet never touching ground. His eyes were bright with thought, but his mouth said nothing. His usual grin was gone.
Simon looked at the three of them. These weren't just friends or former angels. They were pieces of a story that had gone unfinished for far too long.
"Gather them," Simon said. His voice was quiet, but it carried. "The villagers. The Awakened. The half-souls and full ones. Everyone."
Mike bowed his head and vanished.
Gabriel hesitated. "You'll speak to them?"
Simon nodded. "They deserve to know the truth."
Gabriel gave a slow smile, not out of joy, but a strange, twisted relief. "It's about time."
Luca remained silent, eyes closed, head tilted toward the east. "The winds are changing," he muttered. "Something has arrived. Something... watching."
Simon said nothing.
By nightfall, they had gathered beneath the mountain. Hundreds stood around the burned village square, silent, waiting. Faces marked with confusion, some with awe, and others with hidden fear. Most did not know what they were waiting for.
They simply felt it.
Simon stood at the center of them all, with a fire behind him that hadn't been lit by human hands. It was white, not gold or red, but cold white, and it didn't flicker. It stayed still, like it was waiting for him too.
He looked around at them. So many eyes. So many hearts stirred awake by the awakening of a single Shepherd.
"You were not meant to know the truth," he began. "Not yet. But time has been pushed forward. Seals are breaking that should not have loosened. The balance between Heaven and Hell should be restored. I know to most of you Hell is a concept you have never heard before, but still you will know and must know. The paths I have laid before you dictate we bring back parts of the ancient world, a world forgotten, both the pleasant and unpleasant. And I, no, we, must decide what role we play in what comes next."
A woman stepped forward. Her face was pale, lips trembling. "Are we at war?" she asked.
Simon looked at her. "Not yet. But we will be."
Gasps moved through the crowd. One of the young men, an Ascended Soul who had just begun training as a Preacher, spoke up, "Who are we to fight? Heavens and angels?, Gods"
Simon didn't answer. Not right away. He walked to the fire. Held out his hand above it. The flames did not burn him. Instead, they climbed up his arm like vines of light.
"I will not lead you into war," Simon said, his voice like stone dragged across stone. "I will lead you through it."
Luca stepped forward. "This is not just about the Celestial Gods. Not just about angels or demons of Hell. There are powers that live outside of what you've been taught. There are truths older than the scriptures. And they are waking up."
Gabriel appeared beside Simon. "Some of you will be scared. Some of you will try to run. But know this, there is no place left untouched by what is coming. No Heaven. Not Hell. Not this world. The cloak we hide under will not last long."
Mike's voice rose from the side. "We won't force you. You can choose to return to your lives. No shame in that. But for those who stay, train hard. Sharpen your hearts. Because what's coming will test your soul more than your strength."
Silence followed. Not fear. But silence, the kind that settles when people understand something too big to speak about. None of these people were fools. After all, these were souls specifically chosen by Simon himself for what's to come.
And then the ground cracked.
It wasn't loud. Just a soft split, like the sound of dry lips peeling open. From the center of the fire, a ripple of darkness spread outward. The flame turned blue. Then black.
Simon stepped back. He seemed to be the only one capable of seeing these changes.
From beneath the earth, a scream rang out. It was not human. Not beast. It was old. Made of memories. Made of blood. This was not powered by grace; it was something beyond.
The scream faded, but the earth was still warm. Still breathing. Everything seemed frozen in time as a sigh as old as time drifted into Simon's ears.
"Why do you still care so much? Should things escalate this far between us, you could just do what you want me to do if you wanted. I am tired," the voice said as it waited for Simon's reply.
Simon closed his eyes, taking in the weight of the words. He recognized the voice—not from memory, but from something deeper. A connection that had always been there, unacknowledged.
"I care because it's my purpose," Simon responded. "Because I was made to shepherd, to guide, to correct. Not to dominate, but to restore."
The voice sighed again, a sound filled with ancient sorrow. "Then prepare yourself. The time is coming when choices will no longer be yours to make."
As the voice faded, Simon opened his eyes. The fire had returned to its white stillness, the ground beneath him solid once more.
He turned to face the crowd, their eyes filled with questions, fear, and hope.
"This is just the beginning," Simon said. "But together, we will face whatever comes. As one."