The Celestial Hall of Eternity shimmered with an ethereal glow as Sera ascended the marble steps, her periwinkle-gray gown trailing behind her like rippling starlight. The hall was a sacred place where only the most trusted seraphim gathered to discuss and work on God's most ambitious creations. Today, she was meant to continue her efforts on the Humanity Project, a task that required focus and precision.
As she entered the hall, her six wings folded neatly behind her, she was surprised to hear raised voices echoing through the chamber. Sera's white irises shifted toward the center of the hall, where several seraphim stood in a tense circle. In the middle of it all was Samael, his presence unmistakable with his wide, expressive gestures and shining white suit, his top hat perched perfectly atop his peach-toned hair.
"I'm just saying," Samael argued, his vibrant voice carrying a mix of determination and frustration. "I've contributed so much to Sera's ideas for humanity. I should have the right to be here and see this through!"
One of the elder seraphim, her demeanor calm but her tone edged with disapproval, responded, "Samael, while your growth as a seraphim is commendable, you are still too young and inexperienced to take on responsibilities of this magnitude. This is not your place."
Samael's wings flared slightly, his frustration evident. "How am I supposed to gain experience if I'm always told to stay out of it? I'm not some fledgling anymore! I've earned the right to be heard."
Before the argument could escalate further, Sera stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding attention. The seraphim turned to her, their expressions a mix of relief and expectation.
"Lady Sera," one of them began, bowing slightly. "Please, speak to Samael. He has overstepped, and it's clear that by indulging him, he now feels entitled to more involvement."
Sera's serene expression remained steady, though inwardly, she felt a pang of conflict. She glanced at Samael, whose wide, hopeful eyes betrayed his frustration and hurt. Finally, she nodded. "I will speak with him."
The other seraphim stepped aside, leaving Sera and Samael alone in the center of the grand hall. Samael's posture straightened as Sera approached, his wings tucked back as if bracing himself for her words.
"Samael," Sera began, her voice calm but firm. "You have done much to help me refine the ideas for humanity, and I value the passion and creativity you bring. However, that does not grant you the right to dictate or involve yourself in matters that are not yours to oversee."
Samael's expression shifted, his brows furrowing. "But why? If my ideas are good enough to help shape this project, why am I not allowed to be part of it? It's not fair, Sera."
Sera's wings flared slightly, her tone growing sharper. "Fairness is not the issue here, Samael. You have a role in Heaven—to teach reverence and humility to the angels. My role is to oversee Heaven and carry out God's will. Just as I respect the boundaries of your duties, you must respect mine."
"But I could do more!" Samael protested, his voice cracking with emotion. "I want to do more."
Sera's gaze softened, but her resolve did not waver. "You will, Samael. In time. But for now, you must understand that maturity is not just about having ideas—it's about knowing when to step back and trust others to fulfill their roles."
Samael lowered his head, his wings drooping slightly. "So that's it? I just stay on the sidelines?"
A flicker of maternal warmth crossed Sera's face. Though she knew her decision was the right one, it was difficult to see the hurt in Samael's eyes. "You may not be ready to lead this project, but I will allow you to observe. You can watch as we work, see the progress we've made, and learn from it. That is how you'll grow."
Samael looked up, his expression conflicted. "That's all?"
"That is all," Sera said firmly, though her tone was gentler now. "This is not a punishment, Samael. It's an opportunity to learn and prepare for the responsibilities you will one day take on."
After a long pause, Samael sighed. "Fine. I'll watch."
Sera reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know this isn't what you wanted, but trust me—it's for the best."
Samael nodded, though his heart felt heavy. Deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling of rejection, the ache that Sera, who had always encouraged him, would not let him help with something so monumental.
As Sera turned to rejoin the other seraphim, Samael lingered at the edge of the chamber, his vibrant glow dimmed slightly. He watched as Sera and the others resumed their discussion, his mind swirling with thoughts.
He would listen, he would learn—but the sting of being sidelined stayed with him, quietly fanning the flames of ambition within.
Sera stepped forward, her delicate fingers rising as she conjured a radiant orb before her. It shimmered with divine energy, an intricate globe she had spent countless hours perfecting—a world she had dubbed Earth. The other seraphim gathered around her, their lighted forms reflecting the celestial brilliance of the orb, while Samael, standing slightly apart, craned his neck to catch a glimpse.
As the orb spun gently in Sera's hands, Samael's sharp eyes noticed something familiar. Many of the features on Earth—the lush forests, the winding rivers, and even the sprawling deserts—had been inspired by his ideas. Yet, as he examined the details closer, he realized they had been changed. The jagged mountains he envisioned were softened into rolling hills, the storm-ravaged seas he imagined were now calm and inviting. To Samael, it felt... dull. Too serene.
Still, he chose not to complain. A small smile formed on his face as he thought, She used my ideas. Even if they were tweaked, she still used them.
Sera turned, her glowing white irises locking onto Samael's curious expression. "Come," she said, beckoning him closer. "Let me show you something."
The orb expanded, the globe within growing larger until it filled the center of the hall. With a wave of her hand, Sera zoomed in on a single point, a dazzling patch of greenery nestled amidst shimmering rivers and towering trees. "This," Sera began, her voice soft yet commanding, "is Eden. The Garden of Eden. A sanctuary for the first humans. A place of beauty, balance, and peace."
Samael stepped closer, his eyes widening as he took in the breathtaking sight. The garden was unlike anything he had imagined. Flowers of every imaginable color bloomed in harmony, their petals glistening with dew. Trees bearing golden fruits swayed gently in a nonexistent breeze, their branches cradling clusters of glowing orbs. Streams of crystalline water wove through the garden, their surfaces shimmering with divine light.
"It's... magnificent," Samael whispered, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.
"This is where it will begin," Sera said, her gaze warm as she looked at Samael. "Watch."
Sera extended her hands toward the globe. From the golden dust of the Earth, two forms began to take shape. The dust rose and swirled, coalescing into figures that shimmered with a divine glow. Slowly, the figures solidified, their forms becoming flesh and blood.
Samael watched in awe as the first humans came to life. A man and a woman stood before them, their expressions fresh and innocent. They looked around, taking in their surroundings with wide eyes, marveling at the beauty of the garden that would be their home.
The seraphim observed silently, their collective presence radiating approval. Samael, too, felt a sense of wonder, though a small, inexplicable feeling stirred within him—a faint unease he couldn't quite place.
Within the globe, Sera stepped down into Eden, her towering, regal form softening as she knelt before the two humans. Her voice carried through the hall and the garden alike, resonating with divine authority. "You are Adam and Lilith," she said, her tone filled with warmth. "You are the first of humankind, equals in this sacred task. You will care for this garden, and from you, the life of the human race will begin. It is an honor, a divine purpose bestowed upon you."
The man, Adam, blinked in quiet reverence, his gaze fixed on Sera as though trying to comprehend her words. The woman, Lilith, mirrored his awe, though there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes as she glanced around Eden.
The seraphim nodded among themselves, their celestial forms glowing brighter in agreement. Samael, however, felt something strange gnawing at him. It wasn't jealousy or anger—no, it was something deeper, more subtle.
Why do her words feel... incomplete? he wondered, his gaze lingering on Sera as she continued to speak to Adam and Lilith.
Though he couldn't quite explain it, something about the way Sera spoke unsettled him. Her tone, though gentle, carried a weight that seemed almost too heavy for these new, innocent beings. And her mention of "divine purpose" sounded more like a command than an invitation.
Samael's wings twitched as he shifted uncomfortably. He glanced at the other seraphim, but they showed no signs of doubt. Their expressions remained serene, their approval evident.
Still, Samael couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Sera's words than met the ear. Something beneath the surface, something unspoken, lingered in the air.
He didn't dare voice his concerns, not now. But deep in his heart, the unease remained, a quiet whisper that refused to be silenced. For the first time, Samael began to wonder if Sera, despite her wisdom and authority, might not have all the answers.