Chapter Text
God doesn’t really speak to him. Or rather, She doesn’t speak with him.
She created him and ever since She’s done nothing but bark orders and leave him to see them through. There’s not much back and forth. He supposes that’s the norm.
He knows She loves him nonetheless. He knows because he feels it surge through the form She gave him. It feels like warmth before Warmth was invented, like Joy and Comfort and Pleasure, all before they were given a name. He can feel Her living inside him and that’s more than enough for the time being. Well, until Time is invented of course.
She tells him to make the stars and he does as he’s told.
He chisels out the vast cosmos bit by bit. He arranges and rearranges and adds and subtracts. He fills every empty space with light and beauty, and he grows fond of every nebula, every galaxy, every constellation he gets to put into being.
He only stops to receive new orders and when he does, he eagerly discusses the Plans with the rest of Heavenly Host. He works hard and between beats, he plays. He laughs with the other angels. He jokes and teases and makes silly noises when he can’t help but externalize his glee. He seeks their company and tries to make them as happy as he is.
He shows them his creations. He drags cherubs and seraphs alike from their stations and shares his latest passion projects with them. He all but begs his siblings to come marvel with him. They remind him that the stars aren’t his to claim and he waves them off. He makes even more.
And then he falls in love with them.
It’s his first strike against Her. It’s called Pride and it’s forbidden. It’s a sin before Sin was invented. It’s the beginning of the end.
He knows none of these things until it's far too late.
As his love for the stars grows, so does his need to be around them. He works himself to the bone and enjoys every minute of it. He separates from them with increasing hesitancy and thinks of nothing but them when they’re apart. He wonders if it’s how She feels about Her creations.
He arrives to meetings late and leaves them early. He stops paying attention. Why grate through pointless presentations when he can stay in his corner of the universe and build? They’re creating Earth and Humanity but none of it is one bit relevant to him and his assignment so what’s the point? And anyway, what’s a mere trillion cubic kilometers compared to infinity?
He misses an instruction from Gabriel and gets reprimanded. He falls back in line. He admits he’s a little overzealous about his work but the last thing he ever wants to do is upset anyone.
He starts paying attention, close attention. The more he does, the less things make sense. Pieces that are meant to slot perfectly in place bump into each other awkwardly and leave gaps in their wake. Calculations are off. There are…contradictions. He thinks about the m-word, he’s still not sure if that’s what he’s looking at.
He’s curious and he vocalizes it. He doesn’t hold his tongue because he doesn’t know it’s an option yet. Every time he does, he’s met with frowns. His queries are dismissed. He gets ignored. He hypothesizes and the others turn away and continue speaking as if he never said anything in the first place.
So he pushes. He suggests, he diverges, he questions.
And he’s not the only one. He sees the tensions growing with every conversation. Every wayward call and response charges with hostility. He senses as the room begins to split in two, righteousness and obedience on one end and on the other… something else entirely.
He thinks back to that one Principality’s warning. Surely, nothing’s to come of this? Surely, they won’t…
He returns to his planets. He forms suns and moons with shaking hands. He learns Dread. He learns Doubt.
He learns Fear.
He hears of conspiracies and rebellions. He stays out of it as best he can. He does what he needs to do to stay in everyone’s good graces. Unlike the others he holds no ill will, he can’t. As long as he’s allowed to keep making stars, he’ll be fine. He’ll keep to himself and he’ll work on Alpha Centauri and everything will right itself eventually.
But he can’t stop himself from questioning things.
Angels start disappearing. Once talkative dominions fall silent. Michael goes from tutting at dissenters to snarling at them. Something’s happening in Heaven and he wants to know why.
He asks God where Lucifer’s gone. God answers.