The chamber erupted into a storm of voices as soon as Geon’s declaration settled over the council. The gods, who moments ago debated in measured tones, now spoke in hurried bursts, their usual calm splintered by the weight of his revelation.

  “The gates of Hell have opened? And we did not sense it?” Vyrkos, the God of War, bellowed, his voice like a thunderclap. “This is a failure of vigilance! We must descend upon Earth ourselves and crush their forces before they spread further!”

  “Vigilance means caution, not recklessness,” countered Auran, the God of Order, his tone sharp. “A full-scale war risks breaking the balance between realms. We must first find the portal—locate its origin and seal it.”

  “And if we cannot seal it?” Lyriel, the Goddess of Dawn, asked softly, her golden eyes filled with concern. “We must be prepared for the worst.”

  The council’s voices swirled, their arguments cascading over one another, yet no clear answer arose. The weight of the moment bore down on all of them. Geon, standing at the heart of the chamber, finally spoke, his voice steady yet strained.

  “If we hesitate, more innocent lives will be lost. The demons grow stronger with every passing moment, feeding off the chaos on Earth.” His gaze swept across the council, eyes blazing with urgency. “We must act decisively before their forces spread beyond our control.”

  A tense silence fell over the room until Auran stood, his expression uncharacteristically grim. “Then we will take action.” He turned to the council, his voice carrying the authority of the heavens themselves. “We shall release twenty four-winged angels to descend upon Earth and seal the portal.”

  Gasps rippled through the chamber. Even Vyrkos, fierce and unyielding, looked momentarily stunned by the declaration. The release of a single four-winged angel was rare—almost unheard of. These were beings of unimaginable might, each one capable of leveling mountains and turning the tide of wars single-handedly. A single four-winged angel possessed the strength of a High S-Rank power, and their release was reserved only for the gravest of threats. To send twenty of them...

  “This... this is unprecedented,” Lyriel whispered, her usual composure shaken. “Twenty of them to Earth?”

  Auran nodded solemnly. “The portal must be found, and it must be sealed at all costs. Should Hell’s corruption spread further, the consequences will be irreversible.”

  Vyrkos let out a low, dangerous chuckle. “So we release our blades. Good. Let Hell know that the heavens are not idle.”

  Even Geon, as battle-hardened as he was, could not hide his surprise. The sheer force they were preparing to unleash spoke volumes of the threat now looming over all creation. The gods, for all their power, were not acting out of arrogance or aggression—there was fear in their decisions, a rare acknowledgment of just how dangerous this breach had become.

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  Auran raised his hand, his voice firm. “Summon the angels. Prepare them to descend. We cannot allow the tides of Hell to consume Earth.”

  The council sat in stunned silence as the weight of the order settled over them. The release of twenty four-winged angels would be an act that echoed across all realms—a declaration of war, a warning to Hell, and perhaps, a desperate hope to hold back the darkness.

  Far below in the mortal world, the shadows deepened, and the skies trembled, as if the universe itself braced for the storm to come.

  The scene shifted to the vast Celestial Courtyard, where even the heavens seemed to pause, as if holding their breath. Golden light cascaded down in shimmering columns, illuminating the polished marble floor with an ethereal glow. The air itself seemed alive, vibrating with the hum of divine energy as twenty four-winged angels emerged from the radiant gates of light.

  Each angel descended with unmatched grace, their beauty so profound that even the gods of the Council were left mesmerized. They were beings of pure radiance—tall, flawless, and otherworldly, exuding a power so immense it seemed to bend the very air around them. Their four wings spread like cascades of starlight, each feather glinting in shifting hues of silver, gold, and faint iridescent blues. Armor of celestial steel adorned their forms, polished to a brilliance that seemed to hold the light of suns, while their flowing robes shimmered like the fabric of the heavens themselves.

  But it was the leader of the angels who stole all attention.

  As he stepped forward, his presence dwarfed even the awe of his kin. Towering above the others, his form was radiant beyond measure, his wings outstretched in impossible splendor. Five wings fanned behind him—an anomaly of unmatched power, shimmering with a celestial glow that outshone the very light of Heaven. Each feather crackled faintly with divine energy, sending ripples through the air, while intricate glowing sigils etched themselves across his armor with every movement.

  His gaze, glowing and piercing like twin suns, swept over the gods with a calm authority that few beings in existence possessed. This was no ordinary angel—his fifth wing was a mark of SS-rank might, a power reserved for Heaven’s most revered and lethal champions. The gods themselves could not hide their shock as the leader’s presence loomed over them like an immovable mountain.

  “Five wings…” Lyriel whispered, her voice barely audible, her golden eyes wide in awe. “He stands beyond even the mightiest of angels.”

  Vyrkos, the God of War, let out a slow breath, his crimson cloak fluttering in the invisible wind that followed the angels' arrival. “A force this great has not walked the mortal plane since the Dawn Wars. Hell will shudder before him.”

  Even Auran, the ever-stoic God of Order, allowed his gaze to linger on the leader angel, his usually impassive face betraying a flicker of admiration. “He is Heaven’s judgment embodied.”

  The leader angel finally spoke, his voice resonating through the courtyard like the harmony of a thousand celestial choirs. Calm yet commanding, his words carried a weight that echoed into the very marrow of those present.

  “We stand ready, my lords,” he said, his fifth wing flaring, releasing a soft wave of energy that seemed to ripple through the entire realm. “The gates of Hell shall be found and sealed. Its corruption will not prevail.”

  Geon watched the angels with narrowed eyes, torn between awe and unease. Their power was unmatched, their purpose divine, but the storm they were about to face felt darker and more sinister than any before. He could not shake the feeling that even this, the greatest of Heaven’s might, might not be enough.

  The twenty angels, with their leader blazing brighter than a newborn sun, stood ready. The gods watched in reverent silence as the embodiment of celestial power prepared to descend to Earth. The heavens trembled, the light casting long, radiant shadows across the courtyard.

  The storm was coming, and this was Heaven’s final warning.