The Chosen

The Seed of Betrayal

The Celestial Kingdom still shone in its immutable radiance. The heavens, bathed in golden light, sang an eternal harmony, and the angels, faithful servants of the Supreme Master, followed the established order without ever questioning the divine justice that governed their existence.

Yet, beneath this apparent perfection, a growing unease took root. An unease that festered within Adrien’s heart.

He walked alone through the vast corridors of the palace, his gaze fixed straight ahead, yet his mind churned in turmoil. His conversation with Lucian a few days prior still echoed in his thoughts. He knew his counselor well, and he was aware that Lucian had sensed his doubts, his ambitions… and his resentment.

But none of that mattered anymore.

He stopped before an immense window overlooking the expanse of the Kingdom. Order, peace… everything that constituted the grandeur of this celestial empire. Yet, beyond this facade of perfection, Adrien saw only a prison. A world frozen. Trapped within laws imposed upon him.

A sigh escaped his lips.

— You seem troubled, my lord.

Adrien did not turn immediately. He recognized the deep, composed voice. Azariel, one of the fiercest warriors of the Celestial Kingdom. A respected angel, yet one whose heart harbored doubts similar to his own.

— And you, Azariel, what do you see when you look upon this Kingdom? he finally asked, still gazing at the horizon.

The warrior stepped forward, observing the celestial panorama alongside him.

— I see an impregnable fortress, an empire built upon justice and mercy… but also a people blinded by their own light.

Adrien finally turned to him. A faint smile appeared on his lips.

— You speak with wisdom.

Azariel hesitated for a moment before continuing, his voice lower:

— Some have begun whispering that this immutable order may not be as perfect as it seems.

Adrien inclined his head slightly.

— And what do you think?

A silence fell between them. Azariel seemed to weigh his words carefully. Then, after a long moment, he responded:

— I think the Kingdom needs renewal.

That night, in a secluded chamber of the palace, Adrien gathered those who shared his doubts. A handful of angels, all valiant, all respected, yet all frustrated by the constraints imposed by tradition.

Among them, Azariel, of course, but also Caliel, a strategist whose keen mind had never found its place within the Supreme Master’s rigid plans. And Damaris, an angel whose unwavering loyalty to Adrien surpassed even his adherence to celestial law.

They met in secret, away from inquisitive eyes. The room was simple, illuminated by a soft divine light filtering through the stained-glass windows.

Adrien took his place before them, his dark eyes scanning each of his companions with a piercing gaze.

— The Celestial Kingdom has stagnated too long under the weight of outdated traditions.

They listened with absolute attention.

— We have served with honor. We have fought to preserve this peace. But how many times have we been hindered by the Supreme Master’s mercy? How many times have we seen weak decisions compromise our greatness?

Caliel nodded slowly.

— Divine justice always demands that we spare, that we give another chance, again and again, even to those who do not deserve it.

Azariel clenched his fists.

— Our enemies see us as beings of untouchable light. But light alone is not enough to rule. One must also know how to strike in the shadows.

Adrien nodded, satisfied.

— Then we agree. Change is necessary.

A silence followed, thick with palpable tension.

Damaris finally broke it.

— But how?

Adrien’s gaze grew more intense.

— We must be patient.

He rose slowly and took a few steps around the room.

— The Supreme Master trusts me. He suspects nothing. We must sow doubt in the minds of others, show them that the Kingdom needs a stronger leader. That change is inevitable.

Caliel studied him for a moment before murmuring:

— You want us to prepare the ground for an uprising?

Adrien offered a cold smile.

— I want us to prepare for the future.

But as Adrien wove his intrigues, Lucian, ever faithful to his role as counselor, watched and listened from the shadows. He noticed the changes, the exchanged glances, the increasing absences of Adrien.

One evening, he found him alone in the training hall, striking a wooden mannequin with unusual ferocity.

— You are playing with fire, Adrien.

The celestial commander stopped abruptly. He slowly placed his sword down before turning to Lucian.

— Why do you say that?

Lucian stepped closer, his golden eyes searching his friend’s face.

— I have known you for centuries. I see the unrest in you, the way your thoughts turn darker with each passing day. You seek something dangerous.

Adrien tilted his head slightly, studying Lucian in return.

— And if I do? Would you stand in my way?

Lucian sighed, his expression weary yet resolute.

— I am not your enemy, Adrien. But I fear that you are becoming your own.

Adrien let out a low chuckle.

— You always were the voice of reason. But tell me, Lucian, do you truly believe that the Supreme Master’s path is the only way?

Lucian hesitated.

— I believe in balance. In the harmony that has kept this Kingdom whole.

Adrien stepped closer, his presence imposing.

— Harmony? Or stagnation?

Lucian did not answer immediately. The weight of their conversation hung between them like a blade poised to strike.

— I only ask you to tread carefully, Lucian finally said. The heavens have eyes, and the stars bear witness to all.

Adrien watched as his old friend turned and left, disappearing into the corridor’s endless light.

For the first time, doubt flickered within him. Not about his course—but about how much longer he could keep the inevitable hidden.