Chapter 64 – Judgement

Bastian? It's me."

Her voice wavered, desperate, pleading. But Bastian just looked at her—kind, gentle, but empty. There was no recognition, no flicker of the love she was reaching for. And yet... something about her felt familiar. A ghost of a memory he couldn't quite grasp.

"I'm really sorry," he said, his voice steady, careful. "I'm not who you think I am."

He tried to give her a small, comforting smile, but the pain in her eyes only deepened. Her hands clung to him, as if trying to pull him back from whatever abyss had swallowed him whole. But it was futile. He gently peeled her fingers away.

"Bastian, I—"

"Enough of this," Gabriel's voice sliced through the air like a blade.

"Finally," Zython muttered, rolling his eyes. "The melodrama was getting suffocating."

But Anastasia wasn't done. Her soft, broken demeanor hardened in an instant, turning to something fierce, something unbreakable. She spun on Gabriel, finger stabbing the air as she stormed toward him.

"YOU! You did this!"

She barely got within arm's reach before the guards yanked her back—roughly. Too roughly. And something inside Bastian snapped.

"HEY!" His voice was a whip-crack of fury. "Don't touch her like that!"

Gabriel turned to him, surprised. Then, amused. "Well, well... Bastian. How wonderful to see you again. Tell me, do you know this girl?"

Bastian stiffened, his posture rigid, disciplined. He knew how to respond to an Archangel.

"No, Archangel Gabriel."

"Then why, pray tell, do you care how she is handled?"

A thousand thoughts warred in Bastian's mind, but the truth was unsettling. She felt... significant. But that was impossible. He had never been to Earth. He had no memories of a human girl.

"She just seems... innocent, sir."

"Bring his memories back!" Anastasia's voice was a battle cry. She fought against the guards, her struggle wild, untamed.

Bastian's head snapped toward her, his breath caught in his throat.

Memories?

"Memories of what?" he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

Gabriel, ever the showman, spread his arms in mock sympathy. "My dear Anastasia, I fear that is quite impossible. Once memories are taken, they cannot be reinstated."

"Anastasia?" A new voice—Hugh. His tone carried the weight of realization.

Bastian turned to see the shift in his companions. Guilt. Sadness. Regret.

"You all know this human?" Bastian demanded, his voice sharp, cutting.

The silence was damning. Their faces answered before their words could.

"Yes," Anastasia said, her voice shaking, but her resolve unbreakable. "I am Anastasia. Girlfriend to Bastian and mother of his unborn child."

The world stopped.

Bastian recoiled, like the words themselves had struck him. He had heard, about a child, his child, but with a human? Impossible.

His heart pounded. His skin felt too tight. He searched her face for a lie—some cruel trick. But there was nothing. Just raw, bleeding truth.

"What is the meaning of this?" The voice boomed from the council's elevated platform. It was Angel Zadkiel, stepping into the light, his presence commanding.

The guards immediately straightened, their grip on Anastasia loosening as the room fell into silence. Zadkiel's sharp eyes swept over the scene, darkening at the sight of Anastasia restrained like a common criminal.

"Unhand Anastasia Goodwin at once," he ordered, his voice regal, unyielding. "She is my guest, and she will be treated with the respect she is due."

The guards obeyed instantly. Anastasia smirked as Gabriel's expression flickered with irritation.

Zadkiel turned his gaze to her, nodding slightly. A silent acknowledgment. She dipped her head in return and moved quickly back to Wyatt and Sean.

Gabriel, regaining his composure, stepped forward with a sweeping gesture. "My liege, I have brought forth the prisoners who dared to escape, along with those who aided them. Their fates await your judgment."

Zadkiel's expression remained unreadable as his gaze flicked across the assembled prisoners. Then, his eyes landed on one face in particular.

Elijah.

The slightest shift in Zadkiel's posture betrayed his surprise. "Archangel Elijah Silvius... I must admit, I did not expect to find you here. But I find myself even more intrigued by the company you now keep. You were once offered Dominion status. Are you now our enemy?"

Elijah held his head high, his voice even. "Not an enemy, Zadkiel. But I have found that some of your comrades do not share your... integrity."

A flicker of something passed through Zadkiel's expression. "Does this have to do with Laila—"

"Out of respect for you, and my wife, you will not speak her name in these halls."

The room tensed. The weight of Elijah's words settled heavily. Anastasia's breath hitched.

Wife?

Gabriel, ever the instigator, let out a long-suffering sigh. "Elijah, your wife was slain in the Ethereal Battlefield. You cannot hold us responsible for the chaos of training for war."

Elijah's jaw clenched. "But I can hold responsible those who placed her there. I will avenge her."

Zadkiel met his gaze steadily. "I see. Then I offer my condolences, though vengeance will not change the past. Nevertheless, your fate will be decided today."

His attention shifted next, settling on Zython. His lips curled slightly. "And you, Prince of the Underworld... why did you discard your disguise? You knew we would discover your identity once you did."

Zython smirked, unfazed. "I hide from no one. Not even you, Domi."

Zadkiel's mouth twitched—just slightly. "Ah. Still as insufferably bold as ever."

The tension in the room grew thick, an unspoken battle waging in the silence. Anastasia's hands clenched at her sides, her eyes flicking to Bastian. He was still staring at her, as if she were an enigma he couldn't solve.

And then—

"Guards, please escort Zython and his company to Darvaza. We are not looking forward to a rescue mission from his superiors," Zadkiel ordered, voice smooth as silk. Zython nodded to Zadkiel as a thanks and Zadkiel did the same. They then vanished with the guards. "Elijah, you will give service as a guard in the Ethereal Battlefield for a thousand years."

Elijah's jaw tensed. "A thousand years? Is that in Ethereal time or real time? Because when we were brought here, it looks like not even a day passed."

Zadkiel nodded. "You are correct. While you were inside, we adjusted the time regulator to match the present moment. You were only in there for thirty minutes. Had we not detected you, it could have been much longer. So, to answer your question, one thousand years of our time."

Trixie's voice cut through the thick silence. "Zadkiel, that's almost half a million years in the battlefield."

"Indeed," Zadkiel replied evenly. "But our Archangel has been conspiring with demons. My comrades were strongly against it and chose the penalty of death instead."

Elijah's teeth ground together. "I understand."

"No, Zadkiel!" Anastasia's voice rang out, loud, defiant. "Please don't pass that sentence on Elijah. He helped me. If anything, that sentence should go to me."

The room fell into a stunned, horrified silence.