After the trials, Gabriel's boots touched down in a realm forgotten by both gods and devils—a twilight grove hidden in the creases between realms. No war here. No prophecy. Just… peace.
And standing beneath the weeping tree of dusk?
Medussa.
She turned, golden-green eyes widening.
Gabriel didn't hesitate. He ran to her, arms wide, heart louder than any battle drum. She met him halfway, and they crashed into each other—an embrace that defied bloodlines, curses, and divine law.
"You came," he breathed.
"You remembered," she whispered back.
They laughed, bodies still pressed close. Hands explored memories. Scars. And slowly—like the gravity between suns—their lips drew near.
"Just one," Medussa murmured, eyes shimmering. "One moment… that's ours."
Their lips brushed—a breath from destiny—
CRACK–KRAKATHOOM.
The sky tore open like an ancient scroll.
They descended.
Six radiant figures, halos carved from celestial stone, wings forged in Olympian starlight. Their armor gleamed like the dawn over Mount Olympus. Each bore a sigil of divine authority—Ares, Athena, Hermes, Artemis, Apollo, and Hades.
They were the Angels of Olympus.
Gabriel barely had time to react. Chains of light coiled around him, freezing him mid-reach. Aegis shields formed a dome around Medussa, separating her from him.
"Gabriel of Flame," boomed Artemis, voice like thunder through marble. "You cross into territory forbidden by fate."
"Your bond with the Fallen taints the balance," said Apollo, his spear glowing with righteous fire.
Gabriel roared, eyes burning with defiance. "She is not the enemy! She saved me when you wouldn't even look at me!"
"You are the Chosen of the Final Throne," Athena declared. "And she is the cursed consort of serpents. You will be separated."
"This union," hissed Ares, drawing a blade that pulsed with cosmic war-energy, "would start a war the heavens cannot win."
Medussa stood calm in the prison of light. Her voice broke the silence.
"Don't hate them, Gabriel. This is the price of being born for more than love."
He struggled, flame breaking through the divine chains—but just barely. "Don't take her—don't take her from me!"
Hades stepped forward, the only one silent until now. "We do this not in cruelty, but out of necessity. The boy must remain pure for what's coming."
And with a single gesture from Hermes, the spell activated.
Medussa began to fade. Her final words rang in Gabriel's heart like prophecy:
"If they make you choose between me and the world… choose you. Choose truth."
Then she was gone.
The Angels of Olympus vanished in golden lightning, leaving Gabriel alone, his screams echoing into the cracked stars.
Far above, the Final God watched, hands clasped behind his back.
"The gods have drawn their lines…"
"Now let the Chosen One decide whether to erase them."