Chapter 1: The Heavenly Council

In the endless realms of Heaven, an assembly of angels gathered within the radiant Celestial Chamber, a place of infinite light and timeless peace. Shimmering columns reached up into the heavens, and a tranquil, ethereal sky swirled with shifting colors. At the chamber's heart, an indescribable presence—the Creator—listened as His most faithful surrounded Him, each bearing the weight of the world below on their wings.

The air was thick with urgency, and every angel present felt the importance of this gathering. To one side stood Michael, the Archangel of War, his gaze fierce and steady. Gabriel stood beside him, his usual calm replaced by a rare look of solemnity. They had come to speak of the world's turmoil, a planet plagued by darkness, and humanity's growing distance from divine teachings.

Michael stepped forward, his voice low and unwavering. "My Lord, Earth has become a breeding ground for violence and despair. Evil flourishes, and corruption grows in every corner of humanity. They forsake Your guidance and embrace shadows willingly."

There was a murmur of agreement among the angels, who turned their eyes to the Creator with silent pleas. Gabriel spoke next, his voice softer yet no less troubled.

"They are lost, my Lord," he continued. "Even the pure-hearted struggle against despair and darkness. Left unchecked, their sins will bring ruin not only upon themselves but upon everything You created."

The Creator's silence was profound, His presence filling the chamber with an energy that both calmed and commanded. He had seen countless ages pass, watched empires rise and fall, and souls turn toward or away from light. Though saddened by the choices of humanity, His love for His creation held steadfast. The angels, however, had borne witness to suffering, to the slow decay of goodness in the mortal world, and their spirits were heavy with frustration.

But before the Creator could respond, a chill descended upon the chamber. Shadows coiled around the edges of the light, and an unsettling presence announced itself with dark elegance.

Lucifer, the fallen one, drifted into the assembly, cloaked in shadows that seemed alive with malicious grace. His sharp, mocking eyes took in the angelic gathering, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Ah, discussing humanity's failures, are we?" he drawled, his voice smooth and venomous. "You all seem eager to cleanse them, as though you've begun to think like me, Michael." His laughter echoed through the chamber like a dark wind.

Michael's eyes narrowed, his wings lifting in warning. "You are trespassing, Lucifer. Your place is far from here, in the depths of darkness."

Lucifer held up a hand, feigning innocence. "Now, now, no need for hostility. I came only to offer… a proposal." His voice softened to a purr as he continued. "After all, what's a little balance, hmm? Would it not serve us both?"

Gabriel's gaze hardened. "Your idea of balance is destruction and chaos, Lucifer. We know the harm you seek to sow in their hearts."

"Chaos? I'd call it balance," Lucifer replied, his voice silkier than ever. "Humanity is already tipping into darkness. Surely, you can see that. But rather than cleansing them, why not… let them choose their fate?" His gaze turned to the Creator, a strange mixture of defiance and respect in his eyes. "Let us test them. A battle of light and dark—Ragnarok."

The angels recoiled, horrified, as the word rang through the chamber like a dark spell.

"Ragnarok is a mortal myth, a tale of destruction from their legends," Gabriel said, his voice taut. "A war that brings ruin."

Lucifer's grin widened. "True, but myths have power. They are born from humanity's fears and hopes. Imagine a contest, then, between good and evil. I select ten champions, you select ten. Each one receives a guide—a demon for mine, an angel for yours. They shall battle, each to prove the strength of their spirit."

Michael's wings flared as he stepped forward, his voice filled with anger. "You would turn human souls into mere pawns in your twisted games?"

For a moment, Lucifer's smile faded, his expression oddly somber. "Oh, this is far more than a game, Michael. I have invested as much in humanity as you have. I want to see if the love they claim to hold has any strength left. Or perhaps I've won them over already." His gaze swept over the room, challenging each angel present.

The Creator's silence filled the room, and all eyes turned toward Him, waiting for His response. Slowly, His gaze rested on Lucifer, His voice carrying the weight of countless ages.

"If this is the path that must be taken," the Creator intoned, "then let it be so."

A wave of gasps spread through the angels. Lucifer's smirk returned, though it held a flicker of genuine satisfaction.

"However," the Creator continued, His tone hardening as His gaze fixed on Lucifer, "there are boundaries you shall respect. These champions, whether guided by angel or demon, shall retain their free will. You will not manipulate their souls beyond the power of choice."

Lucifer paused, a spark of defiance in his eyes. "Of course, a choice." He bowed his head, masking the smirk still on his lips. "Though I think you will find that even the brightest souls can be tempted."

The Creator's gaze did not waver. "And one more thing, Lucifer." His voice dropped, filling the room with a power that seemed to press upon every being present, like gravity itself bending under His will. "This is My holy domain. If you trespass here again uninvited, know that I will show you the true strength of Heaven's wrath."

Lucifer's cocky expression faltered, his body tensing under the immense weight of the Creator's aura. Even he could not mask the fear that flickered in his eyes as the pressure bore down on him, forcing him to his knees. A silent struggle waged within him, but at last, he looked away, nodding in forced submission.

"Understood," he murmured, voice tinged with resentment. He rose slowly, dusting himself off, his pride bruised but his defiance intact. "Then let the games begin."

He melted back into shadow, vanishing from the holy chamber.

When the oppressive silence lifted, the angels turned to the Creator, awaiting His direction. Gabriel's voice was the first to break the quiet. "Ten champions, each side. We shall find those worthy of this responsibility, My Lord."

The Creator's gaze softened as He looked upon His faithful. "Seek those who possess not only strength but a heart open to redemption. Guide them, for they will bear the fate of humanity on their shoulders."

Michael bowed his head. "We will find them, and we will protect them."

As the angels dispersed, their minds were heavy with purpose. They had their mission: to find ten souls among humanity, souls who could face the darkness and hold fast to the light, who could stand against Lucifer's chosen and prove that hope and virtue could still save the world.

The game of Ragnarok had begun.

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