Chapter 33 - part 3 : delivery in paradise

He grins.
“That’s the problem with you humans,” he whispers back. “Always expecting instructions to be clear.”
I don’t respond. Mostly because I’m too busy trying not to trip on the ridiculous marble steps of the palace entrance. Everything here glows — the walls, the floor, the air — like the whole place was designed by someone who thought subtlety was a sin.
The angels lead us through a grand hallway, where glowing murals ripple and shift across the ceiling — entire histories written in light. I catch glimpses of gods falling, stars birthing, and something that looks suspiciously like a chicken on fire. I decide not to ask.
We’re led into a chamber that is... too quiet.
No laughter, no music, no fluttering wings. Just silence and a long, circular table carved from starlight itself. Twelve angels sit around it, each one more imposing than the last — their halos pulsing like suns.
At the head of the table sits an angel with six wings and eyes that seem to look through you, not at you.
“You bring the Heart of Yelmor?” he asks, voice echoing directly into my bones.
I nod slowly. “Yes, sir.”
He blinks once. Just once. But it feels like time skips forward half a second.
“ this 'package' came from the ash division, but there's a problem, the ash division has been disbanded for seven thousand years.”
My stomach drops.
Next to me, the beast whistles low.
One of the other angels stands abruptly, his chair vanishing in a flash of light. “If the Ash Division is active again, it means someone down there has broken the Accord.”
Murmurs ripple around the table like thunder on a distant mountain.
“Look,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, “we’re just delivering the orb. I don’t even know what the Heart does, exactly.”
The six-winged angel leans forward. His gaze tightens.
“The Heart of Yelmor is not an object. It’s a being.”
I glance down at the orb, still gently pulsing in my hands. It feels... warmer now. Heavier. Almost like it’s breathing.
“Wait, so we’re carrying a passenger?”
My partner grins, clearly enjoying this.
“Not just any passenger,” the angel continues. “Yelmor was an angel working in the reincarnation department. Banished to the ash division alongside the cleaners after he gave his power to a human who tried to bring back his deceased lover. That orb is a prison — and the moment you crossed into Paradise, the seal began to fracture.”
Of course it did.
“So what do we do?” I ask, more to myself than to anyone else.
The orb pulses again — brighter, faster.
A low hum fills the room.
Then a voice — not from any mouth — but from within my head:
"I smell heaven..."
I freeze. So does everyone else.
The orb rises from my hands, hovering above the table. Cracks of golden light split its surface, jagged and slow.
The six-winged angel rises, wings spreading wide, and draws a blade made of pure dawn.
“Get back,” he commands.
My partner, eyes wide for the first time since we arrived, mutters: “Okay... now this feels wrong.”
The orb trembles midair, shedding flakes of light like dying stars. That strange hum rises into a low, rattling growl — the sound of something ancient waking up angry.
The six-winged angel steps forward, blade leveled at the orb.
“Containment Protocol Enoch-9,” he calls out, and half the angels around the table vanish instantly, blinking out of reality like candle flames in wind. A circular sigil begins forming beneath the orb — burning lines of holy script spiraling outward.
But the orb doesn’t descend. It ascends.
“No, no, no,” the angel mutters. “It’s resisting.”
“I thought you said this was a prison,” I say, backing away.
“It is,” he snaps. “But someone’s tampered with the lock.”
My partner raises an eyebrow at me. “Did you shake it?”
“Seriously?”
The orb bursts open with a sound like shattering glass and rushing wind. For a moment, everything goes white — too white. Not light, but emptiness. Like we’ve been yanked outside reality for a blink.
Then it slams back.
The orb is gone.
In its place stands a figure — tall, draped in coils of gold and smoke, a body made of shifting stone and light. Its face is hidden beneath a veil of threads that dance like fire. And from it comes a voice that isn’t heard but felt, like a scream beneath your ribs.
“Where is the Architect?”
The six-winged angel steps forward again. “Yelmor. You are not welcome here.”
The veiled figure tilts its head. Slowly.
“You speak to me, when your kind shattered the Gate and fled like insects?”
I try not to breathe. The air feels wrong, like it’s turning to glass in my lungs.
Suddenly, my partner steps forward.
And bows.
I spin toward him. “Are you INSANE?”
“Shh,” he says, without looking at me. “This is the fun part.”
“What are you doing?!”
The creature’s burning threads twitch in curiosity. It turns fully toward him.
“Yelmor,” my partner says, grinning wide. “I offer you a deal.”
I feel the angels tense as one.
“Don’t—” begins the six-winged angel, but it's too late.
“Speak.”
“Why waste your time here, you can come with us and get reincarnated, you just need to return to your orb”
I blink. “what?”
“Why can I get reincarnated in this form?”
My partner doesn’t flinch.
“Your choice — within reason. But you were in the reincarnation department you know how it works.”
The six-winged angel is staring at us like he’s watching a mouse try to bargain with a wildfire.
“This is madness,” he growls.
Yelmor raises one long, spindly hand toward me. I brace for death.
Instead, he drops something in my hand — a small silver coin, marked with three stars.
“I accept your terms, Courier.But you carry me to the reincarnation department.”
My partner claps. “Excellent! Welcome aboard.”
The angels look like they’re debating whether to smite us or applaud.You idiot! We were supposed to bring him here and leave.Your healer is healing you ,can't you fill it ?

Yelmor turned to the other angels."Seal me again," he said.
The shards of glass that had once formed Yelmor’s prison began to shift, floating back into place. Glowing marks appeared across his body as the orb began to reform. In a flash of light, Yelmor was pulled back inside.
The orb landed gently in the palm of my hand.
When I looked up, angels with razor-sharp spears were lunging toward us.
I closed my eyes, certain I was about to die — here, in Paradise.
But when I opened them again, I felt the cold sting of snow against my cheek.