Chapter 17 – Crossfire

The light of the Tribunal Hall was stark today less holy, more surgical. As if Heaven itself was preparing to dissect the soul of one of its own.

Lucien stood behind his podium, fingers laced together, posture relaxed. But his eyes were sharp, almost predatory.

Across from him, Prosecutor Malrik adjusted his robes, the silver edge of his wings gleaming like blades. "The Court will now hear the next witness," Malrik declared, his voice smooth but hungry. "Archangel Thessiel, commander of the Southern Bastion."

A ripple moved through the crowd of angels and lesser celestials seated in the gallery. Thessiel was no minor figure he was a war hero, a banner of obedience, a symbol of righteousness.

Lucien's lips twitched. Perfect.

Thessiel entered, his armor radiant, his jaw clenched. He saluted the presiding Judges and stepped into the Witness Circle, a sphere of golden light that pulsed faintly in time with his heartbeat.

Malrik wasted no time.

"Commander Thessiel," he began, "were you in charge of the Southern Bastion during the last major infernal incursion?"

"I was," Thessiel said with calm authority.

"And during this incursion… was Seraphiel under your command?"

"She was."

Malrik turned to the Court, gesturing gracefully as if painting a mural of treason. "Would you describe her conduct during the operation?"

Thessiel hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "She disobeyed direct orders."

A murmur spread through the audience. Malrik smiled.

"Specifically, what did she do?"

"She led a detachment of her own into a quarantined sector without clearance, breached a sealed crypt, and failed to report the contents of what she found."

Malrik's smile widened. "In your professional judgment, Commander, would you call her actions treasonous?"

"I would call them reckless, and unaligned with our command protocols," Thessiel answered. "She endangered the structure of the mission and risked exposure of classified sanctums."

Malrik nodded. "No further questions."

He stepped back, and Lucien stepped forward.

"Commander Thessiel," Lucien said with a cordial tone, "you stated that Seraphiel acted without orders. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Yet according to Operation Order Codex 47-B, subsection G, during an infernal incursion, any Archangel with Level Omega Clearance may operate independently when facing unclassified anomalies. Do you deny Seraphiel's Omega status?"

Thessiel's brow twitched. "She had Omega status. But it was later revoked."

Lucien nodded, "Ah, yes after the mission."

A pause.

Lucien continued, voice steady. "So, at the time of the incursion, Seraphiel had full authority to act without your permission if she encountered what she deemed a catastrophic risk."

"Yes… but she"

"Did she ever report that she found such a threat?"

Thessiel's jaw worked. "She filed a vague report. It lacked clarity."

"Did you file a follow-up?"

"No."

"Did you request debriefing? Investigation? Forensic confirmation of her claims?"

"No."

Lucien stepped closer, his tone tightening.

"Then let's summarize, Commander. You claim Seraphiel broke protocol. Yet you acknowledge she had clearance to act independently. You admit you received her report, yet did nothing. And now, years later, you stand here accusing her of treason when in fact the only thing she seems guilty of… is doing her job better than you."

A gasp rippled through the Tribunal.

Thessiel's wings twitched, but he said nothing.

Lucien didn't let up.

"One final question, Commander. Do you recall who sealed the Southern Vault after the operation?"

Thessiel's face stiffened. "That record is… confidential."

"Was it you?"

Silence.

Lucien stepped closer, his voice soft, like a knife sliding under armor.

"Was it you who signed the order to bury the vault and the truth with it?"

Thessiel's gaze burned, but he could not lie within the Witness Circle.

"Yes."

Lucien turned to the Judges. "No further questions."

He stepped back.

Malrik looked rattled. For the first time, a small crack had formed in his polished veneer.

The head Judge, Seraph Luron, raised a hand.

"This court shall recess for one hour."

As the Tribunal emptied, Lucien returned to his bench. Seraphiel sat behind the protective barrier, still shackled in divine links, but her expression had changed.

There was something in her eyes now.

Not hope.

Fire.

"You shook him," she said, low.

"I need more than a shake," Lucien replied. "I need to pull the whole system down, one testimony at a time."

Seraphiel tilted her head. "You won't stop, will you?"

Lucien gave a faint smile. "Not until I win. Or burn trying."

---

Whispers Behind the Veil

The Tribunal Hall was silent, emptied for the mandated recess. But Lucien didn't leave.

He remained seated at the defendant's table, pen tapping lightly against a blank scroll. His mind, however, was far from idle. He wasn't waiting—he was listening.

Then, like the brush of silk against skin, a presence slipped behind him.

"You shouldn't linger here alone," whispered a voice only he could hear.

Lucien didn't turn around. "You're late."

A robed figure stepped from the shadows of the pillared wall, cloaked entirely in veils of illusion. Even the light didn't seem to touch her fully. Her name was Ereva, a shadow-reader of the Celestial Archives—an archivist with eyes that could see into memory, records, and sometimes… truth itself.

"I had to avoid the Seraphim sentries," Ereva murmured. "They're getting bolder. You've stirred something, Lucien."

He finally looked at her. "You brought the documents?"

She held out a sealed codex, glowing faintly with runes. "Extracted from the Forbidden Shelf. These were the original after-action reports. The ones before they were censored."

Lucien took the codex, weighed it in his hands.

"Thessiel's lies won't survive the next session," Ereva continued, eyes narrowed behind her veil. "But he's just a pawn. You know that."

"I know," Lucien said quietly. "But pawns still bleed."

Ereva stepped closer, her voice lowering. "You need to be careful. The more truth you uncover, the more dangerous this trial becomes. Not just for you for everyone involved."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Is that concern I hear in your voice?"

"I've read the files," she replied coldly. "You're not the only one walking a razor's edge."

He turned back to the codex and opened it.

Inside were copies of Seraphiel's full field notes unredacted, annotated, and sealed in divine ink. The Vault she had entered during that infamous mission had not been empty.

No, it had contained something forbidden. Something locked away by the Creator Himself.

And Seraphiel hadn't just found it she had spoken to it.

Lucien's brow furrowed as he read. A passage stood out:

The entity within the vault claimed to be a Watcher one of the original Seventy who fell before the first rebellion. It spoke in riddles, but it knew my name. It called me… daughter.

Lucien exhaled.

"She wasn't rogue," he said. "She was manipulated. Or maybe... chosen."

Ereva's eyes darkened. "That's why they silenced her. It wasn't disobedience. It was heritage."

Lucien looked up. "And Thessiel helped cover it all up."

"They'll never let this go public," Ereva warned. "There are doctrines older than time. You're digging beneath the roots of Heaven."

Lucien's smile was grim. "Then I'll burn the roots."

She stared at him, then turned to leave, shadows swallowing her as quickly as she had come.

Left alone, Lucien rolled up the codex, tucking it into his robes. When the Tribunal reconvened, he would present the truth. But truth alone would not win this war.

No.

He would need a weapon.

The Tribunal reconvened with sharp punctuality.

Three Judges hovered above the chamber, radiant and solemn. The gallery filled with angels, scribes, and whispering onlookers, the tension almost tangible.

Lucien stood tall as the head Judge intoned, "Defense, do you have a submission to present?"

"I do," Lucien said, walking into the center of the Hall. He pulled the sealed codex from his robes and raised it.

"This is the unredacted report filed by Archangel Seraphiel on the Southern Bastion Incursion. It was hidden in the Forbidden Shelves of the Celestial Archives. Its very existence was denied by the prosecution."

Gasps erupted. Even the Judges looked taken aback.

Malrik surged forward. "That document is not admissible! It was stolen from restricted records"

"Recovered," Lucien corrected. "From suppression. You've had your witnesses and your fabrications. Now it's time the truth was heard."

He handed the codex to the Judges.

A moment of silence passed as the glowing tome was absorbed into the Truthstone the divine artifact that weighed testimony and evidence with cosmic neutrality.

The light dimmed.

Then flared.

The codex passed the test.

The Judges looked to each other. One of them nodded.

"You may proceed, Advocate Lucien."

Lucien turned to the crowd, voice clear.

"According to this record, Seraphiel didn't just breach a vault. She found a being long erased from angelic history one of the Watchers. A creature buried by Heaven itself, and one who called her by a name she had never known… because it knew her origin."

He pointed toward the prosecution.

"And Thessiel—your witness sealed that vault again. Not to protect Heaven, but to bury the truth."

Chaos rippled through the gallery. Whispers, shouts, disbelief.

Lucien's voice rose above it all. "You accuse her of rebellion. But what if it's revelation you fear? What if Seraphiel isn't a traitor… but the key to something older than Heaven itself?"