Chapter Text
When he first heard about him, it was only a murmur from his father, nothing more than a bedtime story. Nameless, faceless. Not even born yet. Not for thousands of years. And while he used to be the best listener among his brothers, after all he was God's chosen messenger, the greatest, and listening is essential to the job, that being, that man, was only a tool in an event already foretold, one among many. What you guys call the Apocalypse, I call Sunday dinner!
Why should he care?
Most of the time, he tells himself he doesn't. And yet the question may as well be “when did he start?”
He remembers listening to his father's tales, he remembers watching the creation of the world, piece by piece. Earth, with the deep mysterious oceans, wild forest and deserts and multitude of beings. Air, fire, water, earth. Everything was beautiful. And then, they came. His father's newly created and already so cherished creation. Humanity. They were perfect. Every single tiny details, in glory and despair, so much potential, could it be good or bad, was fascinating. That much he shared with his father, humans were the most beautiful of all.
Was it then? He told Lucifer he couldn't really see the big deal about them because he saw something terrifying in his brother's eyes and he desperately wanted to appease it. He told Michael to open his eyes to the possibilities and most importantly, to talk to Lucifer, if only that could help. It obviously didn't. It was written and yet, eyes closed to the thought and his brothers' fights, he wished it wasn't.. He told Rafael nothing, because he wouldn't play a part in all this, such as himself, so why bother? And then he remembered the story, it was now happening, at least it will be in the future, no doubt of that. He remembered it all, suddenly feeling something, pity? Compassion? For the poor lads who will have to do the deed and also for every single human who will experience Heavenly war on Earth.
That's when he told himself he didn't have to witness it. Father was gone, and he had a whole world open to billion of possibilities. No need to stay and listen to those two idiots bickering about their egos, their destinies, the end of the human world, blablabla. Why would he when he could just use the time left to enjoy himself? It's not like anyone could and would do something about him. Father was silent, no need of a messenger anyway. So he left.
He was an archangel after all. Archangel are fierce. They're absolute. They are Heaven's terrifying weapons. That will do.