Chapter 4: A Divine Wake-Up Call
Ano stumbled back to his bed, wide-eyed and still reeling from the heavenly encounter he had just had. An angel, an actual angel named Michael, had appeared in his room, spoke about a "game," and claimed he'd been chosen for some divine purpose. It was like something straight out of a movie or one of those wild fantasy novels Vivian loved. Surely, it couldn't be real. Right?
He sat there for a few moments, trying to process it all, before the urge to tell someone overwhelmed him. His dad was still awake, sitting in his study downstairs, finishing up some paperwork for work.
Ano padded down the stairs, trying to keep quiet but not quite succeeding, the adrenaline still making him jittery. He found his dad hunched over his desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose, lost in a spreadsheet.
"Dad?" Ano said, his voice barely above a whisper.
His dad looked up, startled. "Ano? What're you doing up? It's late!"
Ano hesitated, unsure how to start. "I... I think I saw an angel."
His dad blinked a few times, then leaned back in his chair and chuckled. "Let me guess, you had a dream about heaven because you've been pulling those late nights with rugby practice and homework. Must be pretty tired, huh?"
"No, Dad, I'm serious," Ano insisted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "He was right there, in my room. He told me I was chosen for... something called Ragnarok."
His dad chuckled again, patting Ano's shoulder. "You probably just need some good sleep, son. And maybe a break from those fantasy novels Vivian keeps lending you." He gave him a warm, fatherly smile. "Go on, get some rest. You'll feel better in the morning."
Ano sighed, shoulders slumping. It was no use. His dad didn't believe him, and honestly, he wasn't even sure he believed himself. Maybe he was just overtired.
As he went back upstairs, he pulled out his phone. If his dad wasn't going to take him seriously, maybe Vivian would. He dialed her number and waited for her to pick up.
"Ano?" Vivian's voice was groggy. "It's almost midnight. What's up?"
"I... I saw an angel," he said in a hushed tone, trying to make it sound as believable as possible.
There was silence on the other end, followed by a soft snicker. "Ano, are you pranking me? Because if you're about to say you saw Elvis next, I'm hanging up."
"No, I'm serious!" Ano groaned, feeling a twinge of irritation. "His name was Michael. He said I've been chosen for some divine game between angels and demons or something."
Vivian let out a sleepy laugh. "Ano, you're either super stressed or just finally losing it. Go back to sleep, okay? Maybe avoid spicy food before bed next time."
She hung up, leaving Ano staring at his phone with a sense of disbelief and exasperation. Nobody was taking him seriously. Maybe he was just imagining things. With a deep sigh, he crawled back into bed, hoping that he'd wake up the next morning and this would all seem like a bizarre dream.
Friday morning arrived, bright and early. Ano woke up, still bleary-eyed and yawning, trying to shake off the remnants of his strange experience from the night before. He kept telling himself it was just a dream, that maybe his dad and Vivian were right, but the memory was so vivid, it kept nagging at him. He couldn't shake it off as easily as he wanted to.
He stumbled to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and let the warm water cascade over him. The steam and water helped clear his mind, and he began to relax, the previous night's events fading further into the recesses of his thoughts.
"Alright, just a dream," he mumbled to himself. "Nothing to worry about."
As he reached for the shampoo, a calm, authoritative voice suddenly echoed from inside the bathroom. "It wasn't a dream, Ano."
Ano froze mid-shampoo. He knew that voice. That was Michael's voice. Slowly, he opened one eye, peeking out through the shampoo suds—and there, in the corner of the bathroom, stood Michael, looking completely out of place, arms folded and expression serious.
Ano let out a yelp, slipping on the wet tiles and nearly losing his balance. "W-what are you doing here?!" he sputtered, fumbling to cover himself with a towel.
Michael raised an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. "For someone chosen by God, you certainly frighten easily."
Ano's face turned bright red. "It's not every day you find an angel in your shower!"
"Actually, this is quite ordinary for me," Michael replied with a shrug. "Your world's privacy customs don't exactly apply to celestial beings."
Ano scrambled to get out of the shower, wrapping himself tightly in the towel and staring at Michael, still in shock. "S-so... it wasn't a dream?"
Michael shook his head, his expression unchanging. "No, Ano. I have come to guide you. You've been chosen to represent humanity in Ragnarok, the battle for the fate of the world."
Ano's jaw dropped. "But... why me? I'm just a regular guy. I play rugby, go to church, and... feed stray cats!"
Michael's gaze softened just a bit. "God doesn't always choose the extraordinary, Ano. Sometimes, it is the ordinary who accomplish the most extraordinary things. Your kindness, your doubts, your strength, and even your flaws—these are why you were chosen."
Ano swallowed, still struggling to process it all. "But I'm not even sure I believe in all this… stuff. I mean, I go to church because it's what my family does, but..."
"Faith and doubt often walk hand in hand," Michael replied calmly. "God doesn't demand blind belief, Ano. What matters is the heart with which you seek. That's why you're here."
Ano didn't know what to say to that. He was silent for a long moment, trying to wrap his mind around everything. Part of him still wanted to believe it was a dream, a prank, anything but the truth. But as he stood there, towel-clad, staring at this otherworldly figure in his bathroom, the reality of it began to sink in.
"So... what happens now?" he finally asked, his voice a bit shaky.
"Training," Michael said simply. "You have much to learn if you're going to face the champions of Hell. The other angels have begun selecting their champions as well. Soon, you'll need to be ready to stand alongside them."
"Wait, training?" Ano looked horrified. "Like, actual combat training? I'm a rugby player, not some warrior!"
Michael's lips curled in a faint, almost teasing smile. "Consider it an upgrade to your workout routine."
Ano groaned, running a hand down his face. This was NOT how he'd planned his Friday morning.