Then came another presence—heavier, darker, yet not evil. A heavenly watcher, ancient and solemn. Its form was like obsidian mist, shifting with cosmic weight. Not angelic, but celestial. A being of order, of judgment, of balance.
Elijah trembled.
“Why do you look so different?” he asked.
The angel replied, “We reflect what you carry. The pure see purity. The broken see warning. The wise see mystery.”
And then they vanished, leaving Elijah changed—not because he saw them, but because he...