Chapter 6: Companion and Investigation

Michael carefully removed his armor, the polished steel glinting in the soft, celestial light, and gently laid his sword beside it. Both found their temporary sanctuary within the wardrobe of the 3rd Triad in the Telestial Kingdom, a place of respite amidst the grandeur of their divine abode.

A voice interrupted his reverie, and Michael turned, his eyes meeting those of Zadkiel. "You're taking that off," Zadkiel remarked with a hint of curiosity.

Michael sighed in relief. "Oh, it's you, Zadkiel," he said, as he continued to organize his belongings.

"Have you had the chance to witness Jophiel's greatest achievement?" Zadkiel inquired, his voice carrying a sense of anticipation.

Michael paused, considering the question. "No, I haven't," he admitted. "But I promise to take a look later."

A trace of sadness shadowed Zadkiel's face. "Are you truly certain that no one will accompany you?" he asked with genuine concern.

As the wardrobe doors clicked shut, Michael spoke with determination, "I'll be fine on my own. To approach them unarmed is to avoid unsettling their spirits."

He continued, his voice tinged with empathy, "Besides, I can sense a subtle regression in them, a longing for the days before they followed Lucifer's ill-fated rebellion."

A melancholic smile crossed Zadkiel's lips as he nodded in agreement. "Indeed," he said softly. "I'm grateful they remain fallen angels, not devils."

Michael's brow furrowed in contemplation. "What could be worse than that?" he mused.

With a knowing smile, Zadkiel replied, "You're absolutely right." 

The graceful sound of wings flapping gently echoed through the chamber, drawing Michael's attention. He turned, astonishment lighting up his features. "Oh, if it isn't Cassiel," he exclaimed, genuinely surprised.

With a regal nod, Cassiel greeted the two archangels. "Greetings, Archangel Michael and Zadkiel," he said, his wings arching in a respectful bow.

Zadkiel's eyes flickered toward Cassiel's wings, a warm smile gracing his countenance. "Your wings are restored. It's reassuring to see," he remarked.

Cassiel chuckled softly, a melodious sound that filled the room. "Thanks to Archangel Raphael's remarkable treatment, I am once again ready for duty."

A note of curiosity entered the conversation as Cassiel leaned in. "Oh, by the way, I heard that you're planning to visit that island where the fallen angels reside. Is that true?" he inquired.

Michael nodded solemnly. "Yes, Cassiel. I intend to pay a visit to our estranged brethren and attempt to persuade them to return to our ranks."

Cassiel's brows furrowed inquisitively. "Are they forgiven?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Michael's gaze shifted toward the distant horizon, where the heavenly realms met the boundless expanse of creation. "I will discuss the matter with Father," he replied, his words carrying the weight of his responsibility.

With a deep sense of gratitude, Michael turned back to Cassiel. "Also," he continued, his voice filled with sincerity, "it's truly heartwarming to see you restored to health. I owe you a debt of gratitude, Cassiel."

Cassiel's hands trembled, a manifestation of his deep concern. "No, no, no, no, Your Highness," he pleaded earnestly.

Michael's gaze met Cassiel's with unwavering determination. "I do what I must, for saving you from Lucifer was a vital step in fulfilling my duty as a high-ranking angel," he responded, his words carrying the weight of his unwavering commitment.

Zadkiel, always the compassionate presence, approached Cassiel and affectionately ruffled his hair. "You, my dear speedster fanatic," he teased gently, "one day, you'll surely find yourself promoted as an Archangel."

Cassiel couldn't help but giggle as Zadkiel's touch elicited tickles, and the angelic horseplay brought a brief reprieve to the solemn moment.

With a sense of heartfelt sincerity, Cassiel spoke up. "I have no aspirations to become an Archangel," he confessed. "All I desire is to serve God with every fiber of my being. That, to me, is more than enough."

As Michael and Zadkiel exchanged knowing smiles, it became evident that the bonds of camaraderie among these celestial beings were as unbreakable as the light that filled the heavens.

The high-ranking angels converged upon the scene, their celestial forms radiating an aura of concern. Cassiel's well-being had brought them together, and they arrived just in time to witness an unexpected display of affection.

Selaphiel, full of exuberance and genuine joy, leaped over Cassiel, and the two of them descended gracefully into the billowing clouds. The unexpectedness of Selaphiel's actions left Michael and Zadkiel wide-eyed, their brows furrowed in both astonishment and amusement.

"Brother," Zadkiel ventured, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief.

Michael turned to him, curiosity evident in his gaze. "Yes?" he responded.

A playful grin played upon Zadkiel's lips as he inhaled the ethereal air around them. "Why does the air now carry the scent of love?" he asked, his words filled with a touch of bemusement.

With a knowing glance, Michael considered the question. "Who knows?" he mused, a glimmer of humor dancing in his eyes. "Perhaps we should seek the wisdom of Anael on this matter."

Zadkiel cleared his throat, his voice resonating with deliberate significance. "Anael," he called out.

Anael, a figure of grace and serenity, turned her gaze toward Zadkiel. With gentle grace, she approached the two archangels, curiosity mirrored in her luminous eyes.

Zadkiel's hands, in an almost playful gesture, formed the shape of a heart as he posed his inquiry. "Does Selaphiel... you know?" he began, leaving the unspoken sentiment hanging in the air.

Anael's eyes twinkled with understanding, and a soft, knowing smile graced her lips. She leaned closer, her voice carrying a hint of secret knowledge. "Oh, Archangel Zadkiel," she said in a hushed tone, "there are mysteries in love that even the heavens themselves cannot fully fathom."

Anael's revelation cast a warm, intimate glow over the celestial gathering. "In fact," she continued, her voice carrying the softness of a well-guarded secret, "Selaphiel often makes her way to the infirmary after your visits, Archangel Michael. And she always brings avocados. They happen to be Cassiel's favorite fruit."

Zadkiel's brows furrowed with genuine curiosity. "How did you come to know that avocados are Cassiel's favorite fruit?" he inquired, his voice tinged with intrigue.

Anael leaned in closer, her words shrouded in confidentiality. "Selaphiel has a way of sharing her private moments with Cassiel," she whispered, her eyes glinting with subtle mischief.

Zadkiel stood there, momentarily stunned by this revelation. "I never realized Selaphiel had such deep affection for Cassiel," he admitted, his voice filled with genuine surprise.

Anael nodded in understanding. "Yes, Archangel Zadkiel," she confirmed, her voice carrying the wisdom of an observer of celestial affairs.

As Zadkiel watched Cassiel extend his hand to help Selaphiel rise amidst the fluffy clouds, a newfound determination ignited within him. "I shall have to teach that speedster fanatic," he declared, his eyes narrowing in thought. "It appears he is unaware of Selaphiel's true intentions."

Anael looked at Zadkiel with a quizzical expression. "You plan to help Selaphiel?" she inquired.

Zadkiel winked playfully, his determination evident. "In my own way," he replied, his actions shrouded in the intrigue of heavenly matters.

Michael stood before the magnificent gates of heaven, their grandeur rivaling the splendor of the celestial realm itself. With grace and solemnity, he swung them open, revealing a vista of infinite wonder. As he stepped forward, the archangel's wings unfurled, stretching wide like the very essence of purity itself. The iridescent feathers gleamed with a radiant, otherworldly white, their brilliance captivating the hearts of all who beheld them.

The high-ranking angels, both male and female, were drawn irresistibly by the mesmerizing sight. They knelt in reverence, their knees touching the soft clouds beneath them. The female angels, with shoulders bowed gracefully, offered their respect in a manner befitting their ethereal presence.

"Brother," Michael began, his voice carrying the weight of responsibility and purpose, "take care of heaven in my absence."

Zadkiel, his countenance one of unwavering support, responded with a heartfelt commitment. "Leave it to me," he replied, his words imbued with the divine blessings that flowed through their realm. "May God watch over you on your journey, brother."

With a brotherly camaraderie that transcended the bounds of the celestial, their fists met in a gesture of unity. Michael's command echoed through the heavens, and the high-ranking angels, as one, lifted their heads from their humble bows, their devotion to their archangels unwavering and resolute.

Michael's descent from the gates of heaven was swift and purposeful. As he traversed the vast expanse of the celestial realm, he allowed himself to freefall, surrendering to the sensation of plummeting through the ethereal gate. When he emerged onto the soft, billowing clouds below, his powerful wings unfurled, catching the heavenly currents. With a single, powerful flap, he propelled himself forward, soaring through the expanse of the heavens.

He journeyed with a divine grace that spoke of his celestial origins. Along the way, he passed the borders of Bethlehem, a sight that filled his heart with warmth and joy. The town below was a sea of colorful flowers, their vibrant petals painting a picture of beauty and tranquility. Michael's lips curled into a wide, serene smile at the sight, a silent acknowledgment of the divine blessings that graced this sacred place.

In the quiet recesses of his mind, Michael offered a silent prayer. "Jophiel's greatest achievement," he mused, his thoughts a whispered conversation with the divine, "is surely rekindling my unwavering will to pursue our grand plan: 'Restoration.' Bless me, Father," he prayed silently, his heart filled with a deep sense of purpose and determination.

With that, he continued his flight, his wings slicing through the heavenly air as he pressed onward, steadfast in his mission to seek out and connect with their fallen brethren. 

The wardrobe door creaked open, revealing the graceful figures of Uriel and Camael as they watched Jophiel meticulously pack her belongings into a suitcase. The two angelic women exchanged puzzled glances, uncertain about the purpose of her sudden preparations.

"What's the meaning of this, Jophiel?" Uriel inquired, her brow furrowed inquisitively.

Jophiel, her movements deliberate, glanced up from her packing, her expression a mix of determination and anticipation. "Well," she began, "since we're embarking on a journey to Siddartha, I thought it prudent to gather my belongings. After all, it promises to be quite an extended voyage."

Camael chimed in, a note of practicality in her voice. "We could easily fly to our destination, you know," she suggested.

Jophiel regarded her celestial companions with a hint of exasperation, her features contorted into a mild scowl. "Haven't I already explained?" she sighed. "I'm currently living as a human. Besides, traveling by more conventional means can be rather enjoyable. And, let's not forget, the company of friends makes any journey more delightful."

Uriel nodded, a warm smile forming on her face. "Indeed," she agreed. "Visiting you is akin to hanging out right here on Earth."

Camael's thoughtful expression shifted, and she posed a question that carried the weight of contemplation. "Should we, perhaps, temporarily set aside our celestial grace?" she wondered aloud.

"Probably will do. But what about our clothes? We typically wear these celestial dresses," Uriel inquired, a hint of concern in her voice.

Jophiel snapped her fingers with an air of confidence. "I can lend you some," she replied. She swung open her second wardrobe, revealing a dazzling array of earthly attire.

Uriel's eyes widened in awe. "Wow! You truly have a vast collection," she exclaimed.

Camael, with an amused grin, chimed in, "Quite the fashionista, Jophiel."

Jophiel waved her hand dismissively. "Pick whatever suits your fancy," she said with a gracious smile. "Once you're ready, we'll head out."

Before they could delve into their fashion choices, a polite knock at the door interrupted them.

"Come in," Jophiel called, her voice filled with warmth.

The door swung open, revealing Amenadiel. "Archangel Jophiel, Mr. Ennemond wishes to speak with you," he announced.

Jophiel's eyes sparkled with excitement as she hastily slipped into a pair of comfortable slippers. "Ah, Granpabi is here," she exclaimed.

With a gentle pat on her shoulder, she encouraged her celestial sisters. "Take your time," she said before gracefully making her way downstairs.

As Jophiel descended the staircase, Camael couldn't resist calling after Amenadiel. "Amenadiel," she beckoned, and he turned to her.

Camael twirled in Jophiel's borrowed dress, Uriel doing the same nearby. "How do we look?" she asked with a playful smile.

Amenadiel's eyes sparkled with admiration as he appraised their transformation. "Fascinating!" he declared, his approval ringing with confidence.

Jophiel's expectant gaze swept around the room, but the figure of Ennemond was conspicuously absent. "Granpabi?" she called out, her voice laced with curiosity.

In response to her inquiry, Ennemond materialized before her, a warm smile on his face as he carried a delectable cake. His presence brought a mixture of relief and amusement to Jophiel, who couldn't help but sigh and chuckle in response.

"A bit hungry, isn't it?" Jophiel remarked playfully, her eyes twinkling with affection.

Ennemond set the cake down, his attention shifting to the impending journey. "Oh, by the way," he began, his tone carrying an air of curiosity, "you're going to Siddartha, right?"

With a nod and a fond smile, Jophiel confirmed, "Yes, Granpabi," their shared understanding and connection transcending the boundaries of their celestial existence.

Ennemond unfolded a detailed map, his fingers tracing a path with purpose. "You'll want to start by heading to Milirem first," he advised, his voice gentle and reassuring. "From there, you can board a ship bound for Gallia, as they are close to Siddartha."

Jophiel's eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh! I see. Thank you, Granpabi!" she exclaimed, her gratitude overflowing as she embraced him in a warm hug.

Ennemond reciprocated the hug with a loving smile. "No problem, my dear," he replied, his heart warmed by her affection.

Meanwhile, Camael and Uriel descended the stairs, each gracefully carrying a suitcase. Jophiel couldn't help but be intrigued by their sudden transformation.

"Well, well," she mused, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Ennemond observed the two angelic women with a twinkle in his eye. "Look at these beautiful ladies," he remarked with a playful tone. "Carrying some rather important treasures, I presume?"

Jophiel's curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, "And how did you acquire those suitcases?"

Camael responded with a mischievous grin. "Well," she began, her voice filled with a hint of pride, "I made them. Using my projection grace, I replicated your suitcase, and it worked like a charm."

With a flourish, Camael proudly lifted her suitcase, displaying her handiwork. Ennemond couldn't help but offer his admiration. "What a magnificent Archangel you are, Archangel Camael," he praised.

Camael laughed heartily at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Am I?" she teased, clearly enjoying the moment.

Uriel, however, wore a slightly exasperated expression as she turned to Camael. "Camael," she chided with a mock frown.

Camael quickly reassured her with a playful grin. "I'm just kidding! You don't have to shower me with praise, Mr. Ennemond," she said with a wink, noticing him indulging in a slice of cake.

Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she inquired, "Are there plenty of those, Mr. Ennemond?" Her playful curiosity adding a lighthearted touch to the moment. 

Ennemond's hearty laughter filled the room, a joyful sound that resonated with warmth and affection. "Yes, it's in cold storage," he confirmed, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Camael couldn't contain her delight and let out an exuberant "Yippy!" as she eagerly savored a slice of the delectable cake, savoring its sweetness.

Concerned for her beloved Granpabi, Jophiel turned to him, her eyes filled with care. "Are you sure you'll be alright here, Granpabi?" she inquired, her voice soft with genuine concern.

Ennemond reassured her with a warm smile. "I'm absolutely fine, my dear," he replied. "Besides, Lucifer is here to take care of the shop."

Jophiel's smile grew even brighter as she listened to his words. "Alright, Granpabi," she said, her heart at ease.

However, a sudden realization dawned upon her, and she stood up abruptly. "Oh! I should inform Lucifer about the flowers. They don't need daily watering," she declared.

Uriel couldn't help but smile at Jophiel's enthusiasm, her expression bordering on the edge of laughter as she cleared her throat pointedly. Her amusement at Jophiel's momentary lapse into forgetfulness was evident in her eyes.

Jophiel's laughter rang out like the delicate tinkling of celestial chimes, a joyful sound that filled the room. "Yes, I understand," she said between giggles, her mood light and carefree. "I'll just go and gather my belongings."

With that, Jophiel gracefully ascended the stairs to her room, leaving a sense of mirthful energy lingering in her wake.

"Ahem!" Jophiel called out for Amenadiel once she was inside her room.

Amenadiel, always attentive to her needs, promptly responded, "Yes, Your Highness?"

"Please inform Lucifer about the flowers," Jophiel instructed, her tone lighthearted. "Let him know that they don't require daily watering."

With a nod of understanding, Amenadiel acknowledged her request. Jophiel closed the door, sealing her intentions with the weight of her authority.

Uriel, standing nearby, closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Her serene demeanor hinted at a wealth of inner strength.

Amenadiel, sensing an opportunity, was hesitant to ask Uriel something, and she, in turn, encouraged him with a gracious nod. "Go ahead, Amenadiel," she said with a gentle smile. "You have my permission."

Amenadiel responded with a respectful shoulder bow. "As you wish," he acknowledged before proceeding with his task. 

Amidst the bustling crowd, Lucifer found himself immersed in contemplation as he watched the throngs of people pass by his celestial shop. The monotony of the day weighed heavily upon him, leaving him in a state of ennui.

With an exaggerated yawn, Lucifer expressed his boredom. "What a dreadfully dull day, especially following Jophiel's extravagant bloom succession."

As Lucifer lounged in his shop, lost in his thoughts, Amenadiel materialized before him with swift precision. The sudden appearance of the angel startled Lucifer, causing him to jump and exclaim in surprise.

"Holy, bloody hell!" Lucifer exclaimed, his heart still racing from the shock.

Amenadiel, unperturbed by Lucifer's outburst, simply replied, "Really?"

Lucifer let out a huff of frustration, realizing the lack of effect his theatrics had on the composed angel before him. "Pardon me for the intrusion into your oh-so-precious quality time, Your Highness," Amenadiel remarked with a trace of amusement.

But then, he shifted to a more serious tone. "Furthermore," Amenadiel continued, "Archangel Jophiel wishes to convey a cardinal message regarding your perceived imperfections."

Lucifer regarded Amenadiel with an unimpressed expression, his irritation palpable as he chided, "Stop speaking in such antiquated terms. You sound like an elder in a bygone monarchy." With a fluid motion, he rose from his seated position.

"So... what's the grand announcement from Her Majesty?" Lucifer inquired, his tone dripping with sarcasm and impatience.

Amenadiel cleared his throat, determined to convey the message despite Lucifer's displeasure. "Jophiel wishes for you to be informed about the flowers and to cease daily watering," he stated plainly.

Lucifer's reaction was a mix of disbelief and disdain, his expression contorting into one of sheer incredulity. "That's it?" he muttered under his breath, his tone oozing with disappointment.

"What more were you expecting, Helel?" Amenadiel retorted, unapologetic for his choice of name.

Lucifer, with a flash of annoyance, snapped back, "Didn't I expressly forbid you from using that name?"

Amenadiel couldn't help but chuckle at Lucifer's vexation. "You truly are amusing when it comes to Archangel Jophiel," he observed, his amusement dancing in his eyes.

Lucifer brushed Amenadiel aside with a playful jest, retorting, "Never in the entirety of existence." He offered a sly smile, his words belying his true feelings.

Amenadiel laughed lightly in response. "We shall see about that," he remarked cryptically as he prepared to depart.

Lucifer couldn't resist a parting shot, shouting after him, "Until you're blind!" The exchange between the celestial beings carried an air of playful camaraderie, even in the face of Jophiel's seemingly simple request. 

With a resigned sigh, Lucifer closed the doors of his celestial shop, his thoughts lingering on Jophiel's concern for her beloved flowers. As he turned his attention to the task at hand, he couldn't help but marvel at her genuine care for the botanical treasures that graced the shop.

Lucifer began to water the delicate blooms, his movements graceful and deliberate. The lush greenery and vibrant petals soaked up the moisture, thriving under his attentive care.

Meanwhile, as he tended to the garden, a group of passing ladies couldn't help but be captivated by his ethereal charm. Their giggles filled the air, their laughter light and flirtatious as they gazed upon him.

Lucifer, with a charismatic smile that could rival the radiance of the stars, responded to the ladies with a charming nod and a gentle, flirtatious reply. His mere presence seemed to be a magnet for their admiration, and their giggles continued unabated.

Lucifer retreated into the sanctuary of his celestial abode, his thoughts a maelstrom of contemplation. He found solace in front of a grand mirror, the reflection of his own visage staring back at him with a haunting familiarity.

"That's the countenance of a devil, no doubt," he mused aloud, his voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and self-reflection. With a sudden, fluid motion, he unfurled his celestial wings, their dark, imposing beauty stretching outwards like a majestic cloak. Lucifer couldn't help but smirk in awe at the striking contrast between his current form and his angelic past.

His sense of wonder was short-lived, however, as a gleaming spear materialized in his grasp with an abrupt, startling appearance. His eyes widened in alarm at the unexpected intrusion.

A memory resurfaced, one that echoed Amenadiel's solemn warning. "That spear contains divine retribution," Amenadiel had cautioned, his voice filled with the gravity of a dire revelation. "Since you still possess your divine powers, it has the potential to unleash a cataclysmic force, capable of wiping out even half of the land—a power akin to Azrael's blade, but far more devastating." 

Lucifer stared at the formidable weapon in his hand, the weight of its destructive potential sinking in.

Amidst the backdrop of his celestial sanctuary, Lucifer's thoughts meandered through the labyrinth of recent events, each revelation and mystery weighing heavily upon his mind. A vivid memory surfaced—the image of Lyam in his demonic form, adorned with four imposing wings. It was a manifestation of dark power that had left an indelible mark on Lucifer's memory.

"That's most likely a gift from Lilith," he concluded, acknowledging her presence during that tumultuous time. Her mere presence had emanated an aura of formidable strength, one that had imbued Lyam with his fearsome demonic transformation.

Lucifer's brow furrowed in contemplation as he delved deeper into his thoughts. "But it raises a perplexing question," he mused aloud, his voice tinged with curiosity. "Why would Lilith possess the ability to create such a motive in her cell? And how did she exert enough influence to command the high-ranking devils to capture Jophiel?"

The enigma deepened as he recalled Beelzebub's cryptic words: "Only you and Satan can unlock her cell." It was a puzzle with pieces that refused to align neatly.

His thoughts circled back to recent events, particularly the unexpected encounter with the halberd. "I find myself entangled in a web of mysteries," he reflected with a sigh. "And what perplexes me most is why, of all things meant to be lost, my demonic grace was included, while my divine grace remains intact." 

Lucifer couldn't help but entertain a profound suspicion, a whisper of doubt that stretched beyond the realm of mere coincidence. He gazed upward, his eyes seeking answers in the celestial expanse above. "Are you toying with me, Father?" he asked aloud, his voice carrying a blend of uncertainty and defiance, as he pondered the intricate tapestry of fate that had woven him into its intricate design.

Lucifer settled into a contemplative silence, his thoughts gradually unraveling the intricate web of concerns that had been plaguing him. With a solemn expression, he began to piece together the puzzle that was Lilith's involvement in recent events.

"The true enigma lies with Lilith," he murmured, his voice a low, introspective cadence that filled the room.

He raised his fingers, counting off the troubling developments on his hands. "First, there was that mysterious figure in the bridge incident," he recounted. "Second, Lyam's possession by Lilith's hollows. Third, the dispatching of Astaroth and Bael—with the added complexity of their presence inside Bethlehem."

A furrow creased his brow as he continued, "Except for Diane, who severed her connection with Lilith and declared her independence. Yet, she has gone missing ever since we returned from Anadem."

Lucifer's gaze narrowed as he honed in on a particular element of suspicion. "That hypnotic flower," he whispered, a spark of realization igniting within him. "It's undoubtedly suspicious."

Suddenly, he jolted upright in his seat, a revelation striking him like lightning. "Wait!" he exclaimed, his eyes fixated on an invisible horizon.

It all seemed to fall into place with a cruel clarity. "Lilith must be using that flower to manipulate Jophiel," he deduced, a sense of urgency coursing through his veins. "Especially since she knows Jophiel's weakness for all things floral."

Lucifer couldn't help but berate himself for not realizing it sooner. "Why did I only come to this realization now? Bloody hell!"

Determination etched on his features, he resolved to intervene. "I need to stop Jophiel from falling into Lilith's grasp," he declared resolutely. He rose from his seat, determination bolstering his every step as he moved toward the door.

However, just as he reached for the doorknob, a sudden and inexplicable numbness enveloped his body, and a creeping darkness descended upon his consciousness. In that moment, Lucifer's world spiraled into obscurity, his form collapsing as he succumbed to the unknown forces that had ensnared him. 

Amidst the shadows, Lilith's laughter rang out like a haunting melody, a chilling testament to her cunning and malevolent intent. She reclined on the massive tail of a sinister serpent-like creature, her dark form melding seamlessly with the obscurity that surrounded her. Opposite her, Diane, bound by chains and a captive of her wicked designs, grunted in defiance.

"Thanks to you, Diane, for sharing my power with Lucifer," Lilith taunted, her voice dripping with a vindictive amusement that reverberated through the darkness.

Diane's voice carried a note of bitterness as she responded, "That was supposed to restore his demonic grace and return him to hell."

Lilith nodded, her expression turning grim. "Indeed," she confirmed. "He could have returned to hell, but my plan went awry. Instead, it transformed him into an ordinary devil, hence the bat-like wings. It's a cruel twist of fate, isn't it?"

Perplexed by the unexpected outcome, Diane pressed for answers. "But why didn't it work as intended?" she inquired, her voice laced with frustration.

Lilith explained with a tone of resignation, "He still possesses his divine grace, and it refused to acknowledge my power."

Diane mulled over this revelation, her thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "But Lucifer used to be a demon," she reasoned, a glimmer of hope in her voice.

Lilith countered with a knowing smirk, "Yes, but that was of his own volition. His will to embrace his angelic side prevailed."

A heavy silence hung in the air, the weight of their conversation sinking in. It was a revelation that shifted the balance of power in unforeseen ways.

Just then, a group of devils arrived at Lilith's side, their loyalty unwavering as they awaited her command.

"My children," Lilith addressed them, her smile filled with sinister satisfaction, "keep a vigilant watch over our imminent guest." Her command was clear, and the devils promptly dispersed, their sinister mission at hand. In the darkness, the wheels of Lilith's malevolent plan continued to turn.

Jophiel gracefully hoisted her suitcase onto the bed of Lyam's truck, her movements carrying an air of elegance and determination. Nearby, Lyam lent a hand to Camael and Uriel, helping them with their own suitcases, his actions reflecting the camaraderie that had formed among them.

Ennemond, the ever-watchful presence, couldn't help but inquire, his curiosity piqued by Lyam's recent absence. "Where have you been, Lyam?" he asked, his tone filled with warmth.

Lyam, attentive to his dear family friend's inquiry, provided a detailed response. "After I escorted Lucifer back to his celestial shop," he began, "I paid a visit to my cousin's house. It was during my return that I stumbled upon an unexpected chaos unfolding in the streets near your shop. People were in a state of panic, fleeing from the scene, and I witnessed two devils launching an attack."

Ennemond nodded in understanding, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "I see," he remarked, acknowledging the unforeseen nature of the attack. "It was indeed an unexpected turn of events."

Lyam, seeking more insight, turned to the Archangels with a question lingering on his lips. "Is there a possibility that the devils will return?" he inquired, his gaze shifting between Jophiel and her companions.

Uriel, her expression tinged with a sense of urgency, took the lead in responding to Lyam's question. "Unfortunately," she began, "we cannot provide a definitive answer to that question at this moment. What we can confirm is that there is a notice in Siddartha concerning the hypnotic flower, and we have taken immediate action to address this threat before it can harm anyone further."

Lyam nodded in understanding, reflecting on what he had heard and read in the newspaper. "It's troubling to think that these plants are growing at an alarming rate," he observed.

Camael, ever inquisitive, turned to Jophiel with a question. "What are your thoughts on this matter, Jophiel?" she inquired, seeking the Archangel's perspective.

Jophiel responded with a note of concern in her voice. "I find it highly improbable that these plants are growing so rapidly without some form of spell or supernatural intervention," she mused. "Additionally, the fact that Lilith's clone mentioned the name of the flower piques my curiosity."

Uriel's curiosity was piqued as well, and she pressed further. "What is the name of the flower?" she asked.

Jophiel's response sent a shiver down Uriel's spine. "Brugmansia arborea," she replied.

The name hung in the air, heavy with significance, until Uriel's voice broke the silence. "No wonder," she murmured, her expression one of shock and realization. "That flower is from the Garden of Eden."

Her words hung in the air like a heavy shroud, leaving the others stunned by the revelation.

"What does this mean, Uriel?" Camael inquired, seeking to understand the implications.

Uriel's gaze was distant as she processed the information. "It means that Lilith chose that particular flower during her exile from the Garden of Eden," she said slowly. "But the question remains: for what purpose?"

The gravity of their situation weighed heavily on their shoulders, and the room fell into a somber silence as they contemplated the implications of Lilith's actions.

Lyam couldn't help but voice his unease. "It's rather unsettling to think about," he remarked, his voice filled with a touch of fear. "Especially considering that Lilith is the queen of demons."

Uriel, ever vigilant, sought to provide some reassurance. "Rest assured," she assured them, "I have dispatched Amenadiel back to heaven with a message to deploy a few heavenly hosts to guard Nazareth incognito. We shall do everything in our power to protect this realm from the unknown threat that lurks within."

Lyam and Ennemond, their expressions filled with gratitude and respect, bowed before the Archangels. "We are eternally grateful to you, Archangels," they expressed with sincere appreciation.

Uriel, her demeanor as warm as her radiant smile, responded to their gratitude with humility. "Please, lift up your heads," she urged them gently. "We are merely fulfilling our duty as Archangels who maintain close contact with humanity."

With a sense of gratitude and mutual respect shared, Camael and Uriel proceeded to the waiting vehicle, taking their seats in preparation for the journey ahead.

Jophiel, her heart filled with affection for her dear family friend, approached Ennemond and enveloped him in a heartfelt hug. "I will return, Granpabi," she assured him, her voice filled with warmth and love.

Ennemond, equally touched by the affection, returned her embrace and spoke with paternal affection, "Take care, sweetheart."

With a tender display of affection, Jophiel leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Ennemond's weathered cheek, a symbol of the deep bond that existed between them. Her lips brushed against his skin, leaving behind an imprint of love and gratitude.

"We're departing now," Jophiel announced, her voice filled with a sense of purpose and anticipation. She waved her hand in a gesture of farewell, her heart heavy with the bittersweet emotion of leaving her cherished home behind.

Ennemond reciprocated the gesture, his hand raised in a silent farewell as he watched the car slowly descend the hill, carrying with it the Archangels on their mission. With a deep sense of responsibility and devotion, he turned and made his way inside Jophiel's house.

As the hours of their journey passed, the island on the horizon gradually took shape in Michael's vision. The azure expanse of the sea stretched out before him, the distant landmass a beckoning silhouette against the sky. A vigilant group of guards stationed on the island's shores detected the approaching presence and braced themselves for potential threats.

"Stay alert," one of the fallen angels cautioned, a palpable tension in the air as they prepared for the unknown.

In the distance, Michael continued his steady approach, his imposing figure framed against the backdrop of the sea. He watched as the group of fallen angels stationed on the shore leveled their weapons in his direction, causing him to come to a sudden halt.

One of the fallen angels, seized by curiosity, reached for an optical instrument and peered through it, his eyes widening in disbelief at what he saw. "Who is it?" his companion inquired, sensing his astonishment.

In a hushed voice filled with awe, the fallen angel with the scope replied, "It is Archangel Michael."

The leader of the guard group, alerted by this revelation, wasted no time in issuing a command. "Inform Lord Azazel immediately," he ordered, the urgency in his voice betraying the significance of the moment. The fallen angel entrusted with the message swiftly made his way to the rocky area where Azazel's throne was located, falling to his knees in a display of reverence.

"Lord Azazel, reporting for duty," he announced with respect, his voice steady and resolute.

Azazel, the enigmatic ruler of the fallen angels, regarded the messenger with a regal air. "Speak," he commanded, his eyes sharp with anticipation.

With unwavering determination, the messenger delivered the crucial news. "Archangel Michael has arrived, your highness," he conveyed, setting in motion a chain of events that would reshape the destiny of this island and all those who inhabited it.

The revelation of Archangel Michael's presence sent shockwaves through the ranks of the fallen angels gathered on the island. Bewildered and uncertain, some of them retreated to their tents, their thoughts swirling with questions and apprehensions. The unexpected arrival of the archangel had disrupted the peaceful existence they had come to cherish.

Within the rocky enclave where Azazel held his throne, the fallen angel's countenance darkened at the news. He pondered the implications of Michael's visit, a hint of displeasure clouding his features. "Has he arrived with an army?" Azazel inquired, his voice tinged with suspicion.

The messenger responded with a quick shake of his head. "No, sir," he reported, his tone conveying a sense of clarity. "Archangel Michael has come alone, and he is unarmed."

Azazel contemplated this revelation, his thoughts veiled in uncertainty. "After all this time of peaceful coexistence," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible, "what could be his motives for coming now?"

The fallen angel received a command from Azazel, and his wife, ever present and supportive, sought clarification. "Are you certain about this decision, my love?" she inquired with a touch of concern.

Azazel tenderly touched his wife's face, his gaze filled with determination. "I am certain," he affirmed, his resolve unshaken.