Viktor didn't feel right. His dreams still clung to him, heavy with guilt. The news about Earth gnawed at him. As had become his routine, he got dressed quickly and hurried to the barracks. Vasil was already there, sitting with the lieutenant.

  “Good morning,” Viktor said. The others replied as he grabbed some breakfast and joined them at the table.

  Elion began, “I think it is time we went through the hierarchy since you have met the Captain.” He handed Viktor a sheet of parchment.

  He placed a finger at the top of the paper, glanced down at it, and said, “Remember this: out of the fourteen archangels who once defended the city, now only ten remain. But the army still consists of fourteen wings. When an archangel falls, their wing doesn’t disappear. It’s absorbed under another. In our chain of command, wings sit at the top.”

  He looked back at Viktor. “Ours used to be Gabriel’s. After he fell, Mistress Ariel took it on as an additional wing. A wing is the top command structure. Everything under it ultimately answers to its archangel.”

  His finger moved down the chart. “Here are the numbers for high angels and angels. Here are the lieutenants. That’s me, the ones with halos. And here are the ordinary guardians. That’s you.”

  Elion’s red mustache darkened as he took a sip of coffee. “For easier communication, we divide guardians into squads. Each squad has a leader, and the position rotates every year. Right now, it’s Artur’s turn to lead your squad.” He met Viktor’s gaze. “Do you understand?”

  “I think so,” Viktor replied, his managerial instincts kicking in as he absorbed the numbers and details.

  “Sorry, but I need to focus on the rest of the squad as well. Some people didn’t take the defeat well at all. Vasil will be looking after you and training you for the next few weeks. We’ve got plenty of time, so if you have any questions for me, they can wait.”

  As he left, he leaned down and whispered to Viktor, “Don’t try to learn too much at once. Everything has its time, and believe me, you’ll have more than enough of it. Most things are out of your hands right now anyway. Focus on your training. That’s what matters most.” With a nod, he left Viktor and moved to another table. Viktor looked at the top of the parchment, where it read:

  “Where are Daireán and Lindiwe?” Viktor asked.

  “They’re already training. Most guardians assigned to the city spend their time practicing. Dying isn’t exactly fun for anyone, so everyone tries to be as prepared as possible,” Vasil said, chewing his breakfast. “The chance to reach the Kingdom is a strong motivator, even if it doesn’t inspire everyone.

  “How do you reach it, though?” Viktor asked.

  “That is not for me or anyone to say. No one really knows, and those who do won't tell you. It's something for you to figure out yourself,” Vasil explained. “So don't waste your breath asking around. No one will tell you, and pressing the issue will only frustrate you.”

  He paused to sip his coffee before continuing. “A lot of people find peace just walking around the city. You could spend years, even centuries, just exploring and taking it all in. Some people spend their time in the Great Library in the center of the City of Angels.”

  “Library?” Viktor paused. “The lieutenant mentioned it, but I never got the chance to ask more.”

  “Yeah, it’s in the main tower. Getting there is easy if you know how to use the doors.”

  “How do you use them? Do you just stand in front of one and say where you want to go?” Viktor asked.

  “I can’t use them myself. I’ve only been here a little over twenty years, and I still haven’t awakened my inner Light. It’s one of the basic abilities, but it’s essential if you want to operate the doors. All I can tell you is what Lindi explained to me,” he continued. “With enough training and discipline, you’ll gain basic control over the Light, and then you’ll be able to manifest it.”

  “I can see it around.” Viktor said.

  “Yes, at the training grounds. The guardians’ weapons glow. Some of them even radiate golden energy. Light in a weapon? That’s no small thing.

  It takes discipline and patience. Everyone can hold the Light for different lengths of time. Angels can actually release the Light effortlessly at their enemies. The best way to see it is up close; the captain is a master at it,” Vasil said, his voice full of admiration and respect.

  “Captains have true control. They can send out the Light as a blast, an arrow, a beam. It tears through demons; no mercy. High angels, archangels; their power is even greater. They fight from a distance; you see their attacks only from afar. People say such warriors can destroy thousands of demons at once.”

  Vasil was quiet for a moment, ran a hand over his bald head, and added, “If you’ve got discipline and a strong will, you’ll awaken the Light inside you. That’s how things work here. Even a little control is enough to use the doors.”

  “Come on, let’s find someone to open the door to the training grounds for us. It’s a long walk otherwise,” he said with a smile.

  At the training grounds, they joined Lindi and Daireán from the squad and trained again until nightfall. Exhausted, they headed back to the barracks that evening.

  After a good meal, Viktor asked, “Where’s the rest of your squad?”

  Vasil smiled. “Same place as yours.” Viktor just looked down, a little embarrassed. How had he not realized?

  “They’re still growing,” Daireán added.

  “So your bodies, like mine, are still regenerating quickly?”

  “No. When we arrived, we got a bit lucky. Most of our squad was already at the fountain, but we were just getting there ourselves. We saw the captain carrying the lieutenant and knew we had to help as many defenders retreat as possible.”

  “When we saw Azazel approaching with the lieutenant among us, we had to close the door right away to buy our people as much time as possible to get behind the Gate.”

  “So that was you?” Viktor asked. They just nodded, looking regretful.

  “You have to understand, the fortresses are far apart, even from the main Gate. To save as many defenders as possible, we had to cut off the shortcut. We couldn’t risk being chased straight away,” Daireán explained.

  “So no one from Hell can open the doors afterward?” Viktor clarified.

  “No, they don’t have any holy Light in them. Their power is twisted, drawn from sin. These doors are impossible for them to open. But if you leave them open, they can come through,” Daireán finished.

  “Lindiwe, and you...?” Viktor began.

  “Call me Lindi,” she interrupted with a smile.

  “All right, Lindi. How long have you been a guardian?”

  “It’s been about a century now,” she replied, matter of fact.

  “And you, Daireán?” Viktor turned his head toward him.

  “A little over five hundred years!” he said proudly.

  They’ve all been here that long? Won’t I lose my mind after so much time?

  He turned to Vasil. “We were talking about the Library. Could you help me get there?”

  “Leave that for now. You’ll have plenty of time for that later. Focus on awakening your Light first, then you can explore the city. We can open the doors for you, and you can always ask someone to let you back in, but honestly, I’d focus on your training. You’ve still got a lot to learn with the sword, and you haven’t even tried a spear or a bow yet!” Daireán said.

  The advice made sense. They chatted a bit longer, and as they were getting up from the table, Viktor paused. “Sorry, but can any of you tell me how to set an alarm? Or at least how to wake up on time?”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Vasil exclaimed. “Just tell that little orb of Light, the one that holds your armor. It’ll wake you up whenever you need. It can show you the time, and you can even give it a name if you like!”

  “Wait, wait,” Viktor said, putting his palm next to his face. Then he put it on the table. “You're telling me it was that easy the entire time? All I had to do was ask?”

  Vasil nodded his head sideways. “There are clocks all over the city, too, and the main tower is visible from everywhere!”

  “Yeah, I noticed,” Viktor replied.

  Back in his room, Viktor took a shower. The fate of the living world weighed on him, and he almost let himself slip into despair, but this time he pulled himself together and clenched his fists. I won’t let misery get the better of me. I’ll train every day until I awaken my Light! The forces of Hell will know my name!

  He stood under the stream of warm water, feeling the drops wash away his fatigue, tension, and lingering fear. Each breath felt a little easier, every exhale carried away more doubt.

  After his shower, he dried off, brushed his teeth, and stepped out onto the balcony. For a moment, he watched the quiet horizon where the sky met the city. In that stillness, he felt a sense of peace and the hope that a new day could start differently.

  He turned, went back inside, and lay down with renewed determination.

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  Despite his newfound resolve, the dreams didn’t improve. In the morning, the Light woke him, just as he’d wished. He sat on the bed, enjoyed a quiet coffee, and then headed to join the others. He was building a new routine. He got to know the people of Third Squad, and the barracks gradually filled with familiar faces.

  They had been training every day for over a month, and their bonds deepened. Among the members of his squad were Yassin Mino, a former Dahomey Amazon; Werner Lutz, a German soldier from the First World War and Artur’s buddy, a jokester who fell in an air raid; Altan Batbayar was a Mongolian farmer from a century ago and father of twelve; and Vincent Hallwood was a British veteran of the Second World War, a true gentleman.

  After many training sessions, Artur came over to him. “That’s enough with the sword for now. Get to know the spear and the bow too. Then focus on what you’re best at. Pick the spear.”

  Viktor just stared at him.

  Artur grinned. “What, did you fall asleep? Lumion, grab him! It’s all in your head, friend. Think of a spear and see what happens.”

  Viktor did as he was told. He touched the Lumion, wished for a spear, and in that instant, a flame flickered in his hand, the sword vanished, and suddenly he was holding a spear.

  “Wow, that’s amazing,” Viktor blurted out.

  Artur laughed and quickly added, “See? Nothing to it! Not sure if others told you, but careful: when you’re training, always imagine the blade isn’t there, got it? “You haven't done any sparring yet?” Artur asked, scratching his stubble.

  Viktor just shook his head.

  The Light will adapt your weapon, but we don’t want anyone getting skewered like a kangaroo on a spit. Nobody wants to spend a month growing back on the tree or end up in the infirmary after sparring!”

  They trained all day, only stopping in the evening when they returned to the barracks for curfew.

  At dinner, the question finally came out: “How is it that everyone here speaks Slovak?”

  “Slovak? What’s that?” Mona laughed, and the whole table erupted.

  Hans quieted everyone down and explained calmly, “We’re not speaking Slovak, or English either. As soon as your soul was bound to this place, the Enochian language was imprinted in your mind.”

  “That means the language of angels,” Vincent added.

  Everything clicked. He hadn't even realized he was speaking a different language.

  Three years passed. Time moved differently here. What should have felt like an eternity passed in what felt like a single, long breath. He trained endlessly, breaking only for meals in the barracks. He'd become a warrior who knew his squad mates well. During a strike, his sword flickered with Light. Had to be a trick of the eye. Dreams of his past still resurfaced, but each morning he woke with a little more peace. He'd head down to breakfast with his squad, and together they'd go off to train. After trying every weapon, it turned out his greatest strength was sword fighting, so that became his focus.

  Carlos, the squad leader that year, still mopped the floor with him. The big man tossed him around like a rag doll. “You'll never save anyone like that, gringo! Come on, show me what you’ve got!” Carlos shouted, knocking Viktor’s weapon from his hand again. “Is that it? Is that your limit? Come on!”

  He was right: Viktor didn’t stand a chance. He kept repeating to himself. Focus! Watch his movements!

  When the big man charged, Viktor spotted an opening and swung his blade upward. Carlos blocked instantly, but at that moment, the weapon flared with Light. A sudden flash knocked them both backward. Carlos's sword flew from his hand.

  Had he hurt him? Even with blunt training weapons, the flash had been powerful.

  The other guardians nearby stopped what they were doing; even Radion, who was deep in conversation with Elion, turned to look. Cheers rose all around.

  “I thought you had cut me in half,” Carlos said, catching his breath as he pulled off his helmet and ran a hand over his chest, as if checking he was still in one piece. His short, almost black hair was sweat?damp, his rough skin carried a faint golden undertone, and a neat goatee framed his grin. He let out a short laugh and sprang to his feet, triumphant.

  The others rushed over, forming a circle around them. Yassin clapped Viktor on the shoulder. “To channel the Light in combat after just three years? That’s nearly a record!” The others nodded and applauded. The weight of what he'd accomplished hit him.

  At that moment, the captain and the lieutenant arrived.

  “That’s it for today’s training!” Elion called out.

  The group broke up and headed back to the barracks.

  “Come to my residence,” Radion said.

  They sat down, and the captain spoke first: “Congratulations, Viktor! I’m sure you’ve noticed that being able to channel Light into your weapon and use it in combat after just three years is extraordinary. We pulled you out of training because, before you go any further, there are a few things we need to clarify.”

  Elion took over, his voice bright with genuine excitement: “Weeell... let’s get into it. The Light you’ve awakened is still in its early stages; only the first activation comes with that kind of flash. At first, you’ll be able to trigger it for only a few strikes, but given how far you’ve come in three years, it won’t be long before you can sustain it through an entire fight.”

  “How is it possible I didn’t cut him? I was afraid I’d seriously hurt him,” Viktor admitted.

  Radion explained patiently, “This Light is holy and only affects the damned. You can’t actually harm any of us.”

  “So friendly fire is turned off?” Viktor asked with a grin.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Exactly. But if you wound someone with a blade, or if your actions impact the environment, for example if a stray stone is sent flying during a Light blast. Then the rule doesn’t apply,” the captain added.

  Viktor spread his arms in confusion.

  “We’re talking about really powerful angelic attacks. They can cause massive bursts of Light. The flash and the Light itself won’t hurt any of us, but any debris that flies off can. And a physical arrow or blade can still hit another guardian.”

  “So it’s only partially turned off?” Viktor smiled.

  “You could say that,” Elion added.

  Viktor understood, but he had more questions. “If this was nearly a record, should I worry anyone will be jealous?”

  Elion just waved it off. “Nothing like that. There’s no place for envy here. Everyone’s happy for their brothers’ and sisters’ progress. This isn’t the world of the living.”

  “How do you even know the phrase ‘friendly fire’? That’s mostly from video games, and you’ve never played. It’s not something you’d normally bring up with someone from my age, is it?” Viktor asked.

  Elion smiled. “There are spheres in the Library; think of them as huge crystals that let us glimpse the world of the living. We could also watch through our Lumions. Plus, we have recording angels who document everything, and we’ve learned a lot as you mentioned from new recruits.”

  He wanted to learn more about the spheres, but now that he could move around more freely, he was eager to visit the Library and see everything for himself. He stood and walked over to the door in the corner. “How does it work, exactly?” he asked.

  “Look inside yourself and try to summon the Light, like you did recently. If you’ve done it once, it should come naturally. It’s like riding a bike. When you feel the connection, tell the door where you want to go.”

  Viktor did as instructed. He opened the door, and said, “Silver Horn Barracks.” Their place appeared beyond the threshold. As he entered, he asked, “When the Fifth Gate fell, why didn’t we just go through the door straight into the fortress?”

  Elion replied, “The doors in the city only let you travel as far as the Gates. Even the ones beyond the Gates have their limits. You can only go a certain distance, then you have to find another door.”

  Viktor gave a mischievous smile. “So, anyone can just show up at your place anytime, Captain?”

  Radion smiled back and replied, “Like envy, the remaining sins don’t belong here either. But don’t worry, I can block the door whenever I want.” He winked.

  Amused, Viktor headed through the door to join his friends, who had already started celebrating and were waiting for him at the table. Elion arrived a few moments later to take his seat with the group.

  That evening, as everyone was heading to their rooms, Viktor stopped the lieutenant. “Can I skip training tomorrow? I’d like to visit the Library.”

  Elion lifted his thick auburn eyebrows and replied warmly, “Training is not mandatory. It is for your benefit and part of your oath. Go as often as you need.”

  With that, Viktor rushed to his room and headed straight to bed, filled with excitement about what he might discover the next day. He felt as happy as his son Alex whenever he was allowed a double scoop of ice cream.

  Viktor woke up early, had breakfast in his room, and went past the barracks, heading straight for the books. He stepped through the door and found himself in the main courtyard of the tower, awestruck by its grandeur. He couldn’t get enough of the architecture. Streams flowed across the courtyard, there were ponds with fish, and people strolled about, chatting or dipping their feet in the water. The only thing missing was the sound of children’s laughter. There were no kids anywhere. With that thought, he looked around and made his way to the main entrance.

  As he walked, he noticed the colorful mosaics and the variety of stones on the floor: marble, granite, travertine. When he crossed the threshold of the entrance, he stopped in stunned silence; he’d never seen such a vast hall. Most of the tower was hollow, stacked in rings of floors. Even the first tier soared far. The entire structure might have stretched the length of several city blocks around, and above him, more floors arched overhead, connected by bridges that crisscrossed the vast space.

  From the second floor up, bookshelves lined the walls. There must have been millions of books! You could reach the different levels using moving platforms, as if powered by some invisible force. On either side, two massive spiral staircases wound upward. But who would want to climb that many stairs?

  In the center of the room stood a strange crystal. As Viktor approached, he could see inside, though not clearly: two swords were stored within. One was shorter and broader, the other longer and thinner. Both were made of silver metal, adorned with gemstones, indescribably beautiful.

  Suddenly, a voice spoke from behind him. Viktor recognized him as a lieutenant by his halo. He had dark hair and spoke like someone well-read.

  “They’re Swords of Azazel. He lost them when he was captured during the fall of the Ninth Gate, sixteen hundred years ago,” he explained.

  “Azazel’s?” Viktor blurted out.

  “Yes, the fallen archangel Azazel. When he was dragged down into Hell and ultimately corrupted, he defiled his weapons, but in the end they renounced him. Soon after, the swords were found here, in this place, where they now lie dormant. No one can reach them. It is believed that, one day, the blades will awaken and someone worthy will come to claim the archangel’s power,” the man replied.

  He could only stare in awe.

  “I’ve had the honor once before...”

  “With Azazel?” the unfamiliar lieutenant asked.

  “Yes. He smashed me with his morningstar,” Viktor admitted.

  The man just shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear that. His fate is truly tragic. Much like the fate of all fallen archangels.”

  With that, the conversation ended and the unknown man walked away. Still curious, Viktor made his way to the platform. On the first floor, he saw huge globes set into the dome of the floor, but he couldn’t see anything inside them. They were completely gray, as if switched off. All around were many tables and empty chairs. He asked a passerby, “Excuse me, could you explain what these are?”

  The man answered helpfully, “Those are spheres we once used to observe the world of the living. Right now, though, they’re useless, because time in there is at a standstill,” he added with a sigh. “These tables used to be full of scribes, too. But when there’s nothing to write about...” He sighed again and continued on his way.

  Viktor stood there in silence for a moment. The reminder of the situation below always shook him. He took a breath and came back to his senses. There wasn’t much else to see, so Viktor headed to the second floor. In the center, on a wooden pedestal, stood an angel, writing something in a ledger. He was as tall as Raphael, but looked completely different. His long, curly white hair and beard matched his impressive wings, and he wore a purple robe with golden accents. After watching for a moment, Viktor gathered his courage and approached.

  The angel spoke in a powerful, wise voice: “This is the first time I’ve seen you here.”

  His pupils were such a deep blue, they were almost black, but if you looked closer, you could see tiny bright specks within them. They seemed to float in space, creating a sense of three-dimensional depth, as if he were looking into an infinite night sky enclosed within an eye.

  “Yes, I’m Viktor Gale,” he introduced himself, bowing. “If I wanted to borrow a book, how would I do it?”

  “The rules of the Library are simple. You can read any book you can reach. You must return the books, and you must not take them outside!”

  “And what book would you recommend I start with?”

  “That’s up to you. It depends on what interests you and what you want to read.”

  “I’m not sure at the moment,” Viktor admitted.

  “Take a walk,” the angel said, spreading his right hand and gesturing to the sides. “Something is sure to catch your eye.” With that, he returned to his ledger.

  He wandered the aisles, losing all sense of time as he admired the soaring floors. Dusk was already falling outside, so he decided to make his way back. Once inside the barracks, he ordered a mug of beer and a steak with fries. He had just taken his seat and was about to speak when the captain approached and announced, “Get ready, we leave in the morning. We’ve been reassigned to the Eighth Gate.”

  At that, only Elion could be heard, smacking his forehead on the table and groaning, “Nooo...”