Tsaphon, the Mount of the Congregation – Present Day
One day, the archangel Uziel, tired of the endless wait, decided to climb Mount Tsaphon and confront his brother. He armed himself with his sword of fire, donned golden armor, and ascended the long marble staircase leading to the stone building at the top of the hill. At the end of the steps, the Sanctuary of Dawn appeared, half-hidden by icy clouds—an imposing chamber supported by wide, round columns. A strong bluish light glowed inside, a radiance Uziel believed to be the emanations of God Yahweh Himself.
Even through his polished helmet, which completed his handsome breastplate, Uziel's face was austere, reflecting his determination. Alone, he had pondered for years, and now he had finally decided to visit the Most High, if only to confirm that the spirit of God was still asleep, lying in the sanctuary, and not dead, as he sometimes suspected. Long ago, Uziel had once contemplated the face of the Creator—a gift reserved only for archangels, not even granted to the lesser angels. What he had seen was fraternity, love, and understanding. So, how had the celestials fallen to such a degree of corruption? Paradise had decayed, and with it, the world of men.
But the path to the sanctuary would not be easily overcome. Michael, the Prince of Angels and Uziel's direct brother, guarded the divine throne and was not willing to allow entry. Alone, he blocked the passage, brandishing his sacred sword, the insurmountable Flame of Death. He wore complete armor, silver like the rays of the moon, adorned with golden details on the chest that formed complex designs on the mirrored metal. His helmet, with a red crest and pointed jaw, had been set aside, revealing his masculine features—an unshaven beard and a face full of horrible scars acquired in the Primeval Battles, an ancestral confrontation that took place even before the creation of the universe.
Michael was the strongest of the five archangels, the firstborn, the heir of the Creator. His hair, black and long, was streaked with a white lock that ran to the nape of his neck, tied in a messy ponytail. If seen by human eyes, few would recognize him as a heavenly entity, were it not for his snow-white wings, sharp as razors at the tips.
The gentle wind of dawn ruffled the prince's hair, and it whistled in Uziel's ears. The visitor stopped ten meters from the guardian, at the lowest part of the staircase. Silent, the two giants faced each other—Michael, strong and confident; Uziel, indignant and determined. The invader raised his sword in a defensive position, gripping the weapon with both hands.
"Get out of my way, Michael. I am claiming the right to visit our Father Yahweh in His resting place. It is my right as an archangel and descendant of the Creator."
For a moment, the prince said nothing. Then he descended a step.
"You're not going anywhere, dear brother. My patience has run out. I'm fed up with your insolence. I am the Prince of Angels, and that means I am the leader of the archangels as well. My word is the law," Michael declared. "Yahweh is sleeping, as we all know. And He cannot be disturbed. I am here to defend Him, and it will not be you or anyone else who will deprive me of my primary duty."
Uziel looked even angrier.
"And how will I know that He is really in there, Michael? You've been telling us the same thing for millennia, insisting that one day the Creator will awaken to punish the unjust. Well, I say that day has come. Corruption has taken over the world. It's time to know if what you're saying is true."
"You dare question my commands? I am your elder brother! Do not doubt your commander."
"Look where you've led us, and ask yourself if you're truly any kind of leader. Gabriel dragged half of our angels into a civil war against us, and Raphael abandoned us, falling into disgrace. If you oppose me, which other archangel will stand by your side? Lucifer?" Uziel mocked, invoking the name of Heaven's greatest enemy: Lucifer, the Dark Archangel, expelled by Michael himself along with his nefarious horde.
The Prince of Angels shot the invader a disdainful look as he raised his shining sword.
"I don't need you, Uziel. I don't need anyone."
Then, the guardian swung his weapon and moved to attack. Its flames grew, and the light of the holy fire reflected in the prince's brown eyes. Uziel felt the urge to flee before the majesty of his enemy, but his resolve motivated him to fight.
"So it's true, isn't it? What Gabriel told his angels..." But before Uziel could finish, Michael took flight, spread his wings, and descended to strike his brother with a violent blow of his sword. Blinded by the sun's glare, the visitor barely dodged, managing to roll to the side at the last moment. A titanic crash shook the mountain, and the flaming blade struck the marble staircase, opening a wide crack in the ground. The invader would have tumbled down the hillside had he not reflexively fluttered his wings. He ascended to the heights but then dove, landing in a spot above the guardian, very close to the passage to the sanctuary. Turning his back on the danger, he darted into the temple, underestimating the executioner's power.
Even though he understood that he could never defeat the merciless guard, Uziel pressed on. He wanted to enter the Sanctuary of Dawn and glimpse the face of the Almighty, even if it cost him his life. If the Almighty were truly asleep, he would have the answer he sought—that his fight alongside the archangel Michael had been justified. But what if he found nothing?
What if Yahweh was not lying in Tsaphon? This possibility terrified him, but even so, he would die happy, knowing he had defied his tyrannical brother, even if only at the last moment. He would then have redeemed himself from all the killings, all the catastrophes he had caused, all the cataclysms he had commanded.
Running and flying, he leaped into the building, over the columns and through the threshold.
An intense light overwhelmed his senses, but soon his eyes adjusted to the brightness. In the center of the great chamber, a carved pedestal appeared, and on it rested a thick, ancient-looking book, written inside and out. This was the Book of Life, a magnificent artifact left to the Prince of Angels by God Yahweh Himself, detailing the entire history of the Seventh Day, from the creation of man to the twilight of time. It was marked with the secret code of the Malakim, a language predating the dawn of the world. Michael never allowed anyone near the tome, and his obsession with it bordered on madness.
When he realized what was happening, Uziel felt his back tear open in a scorching gash. The pain of the fire burned his wings, and blood flowed from the wound. Like a well-aimed bolt of lightning, the flaming sword of the furious Michael lacerated his back, throwing the invader into a lethal state. Stunned, he collapsed to the ground, dropping his saber and stretching out, awaiting death.
The guardian stomped on the visitor's chest, crushing the golden armor. Then he pointed his blade at his brother's face, in prelude to the final blow.
"Michael, you betrayed us!" the injured man protested, spitting blood. "You betrayed the trust of the archangels and all the celestials."
"I betrayed no one, Uziel. It was you who betrayed yourself."
"Where is God, Michael? Where is our Luminous Father?"
On the verge of fainting, Uziel still resisted, seeking an answer to his desperate quest. He had seen no signs of the Almighty in the marble temple, only the outlines of an aged book. What had happened to the Creator?
"The Omnipotent is right here, Uziel. Can't you see? He is here, in the Sanctuary of Dawn!"
Uziel shook his head, convinced of his brother's insanity.
"Yahweh is dead, that's it! He died at the end of the Sixth Day! He's not just asleep, as you claimed. You've deceived us all these years, Celestial Prince," he accused. "I'm ashamed to have followed your orders, but I'm happy to have finally uncovered the truth."
This time, Uziel calmed down. Life was leaving him, but he had accomplished his mission. Now, his vital essence could finally dissipate and return to the womb of the Infinite.
Ready for the execution, Michael held his sword for another second.
"You've lost your mind, poor brother. If you had waited just a little longer, you wouldn't be lying on this icy floor now. The Wheel of Time will soon announce the Apocalypse. But it's not your fault. There was nothing you could have done to avoid this fate. It is written," he added, fatalistically.
Then the prince raised his blade, and Uziel awaited the sentence.
"Don't take me for a fool," the archangel Michael added in an unexpected speech. "Before you die, I want you to know that I only speak the truth, and I do everything for the good of Creation. God is asleep, and if you didn't find Him when you entered this room"—he paused and then struck with the sword, piercing the dying man's stomach—"it's because you didn't have the dignity to look back."
When the weapon struck, the attacker writhed in spasms of pain. Michael had pierced his chest, the most sensitive part of the angelic anatomy, where all celestial essence is concentrated—all the sacred energy, all the power of the pulsating aura.
With one hand, the prince shattered the breastplate, and with the other, he ripped out his brother's heart. A mystical luminosity enveloped the corpse, and the body dispersed into scintillating vibrations. And so ended the archangel Uziel, patron of the Cherubim caste.
Victorious, Michael approached the pedestal, where the closed book rested. He slid his fingers over the inscriptions, tracing the marked characters with his eyes. He turned back to the temple nave, now empty. Then, he returned his attention to the sacred tome. With a mix of seriousness and madness, the archangel whispered:
"I agree with you on one point, brother: the day has come for God to awaken from His sleep."