Chapter 794: Metatron.
The corridor leading to Metatron’s chamber traversed some of the oldest areas of Eden, and this meant two very clear things. First: everything was absurdly beautiful in an offensive way, as if each stone had been carved by artists incapable of accepting imperfection. Second: now everything was partially wet because of Vergil.
Water still trickled between golden reliefs, descended staircases in shimmering rivulets, and formed shallow mirrors on the white marble floor. Some lesser angels silently cleaned the path in resentful silence, averting their gaze whenever Vergil passed. Others watched from afar as if witnessing a plague walking upright.
Vergil walked in the center of the group with his usual calm, his hands in his pockets, his dark coat contrasting almost provocatively with all that celestial light. Lucy walked beside him, holding two fingers of his hand, swinging her little feet with each step and looking at everything with an enchantment too pure for the tense, diplomatic atmosphere around them.
Miguel led the way as an unwitting escort. Uriel was on the right, clearly watching Vergil’s every breath. Gabriel stayed on the left, assuming the posture of someone who had accepted that this day would be recorded as an administrative calamity.
Lucy stopped suddenly and pointed to the ceiling.
"Look! The ceiling is shining!"
Above them, an immense dome of living crystal reflected constellations in slow motion. Tiny lights traced golden paths like obedient stars.
Vergil looked up for a split second.
"It really is shining."
"Can I live on the ceiling?"
Miguel turned his face back, incredulous.
"No."
Lucy wrinkled her nose.
"I didn’t even ask you."
Uriel let out a muffled noise that could have been laughter or extreme irritation. With her, sometimes it was impossible to tell.
They continued on.
To the right, inner gardens opened between towering columns. Trees with silvery leaves grew in perfect circles, and translucent flowers emitted soft musical notes whenever the wind passed through them.
Lucy’s eyes widened.
"The flowers sing!"
She let go of Vergil’s hand and took two steps to the edge of the garden, leaning over to listen better. A light blue flower vibrated and emitted three sweet notes.
Lucy brought her hands to her face.
"It spoke to me!"
Gabriel massaged his temple.
"They don’t speak. They react to the movement of the air."
Lucy looked at the flower again.
"So it’s shy."
Vergil observed the scene and commented in a neutral tone:
"Acceptable conclusion."
Gabriel gave him a deadly look.
"Don’t encourage it."
"I support creativity."
"You caused a deluge."
"I’m multifaceted."
They continued walking across a suspension bridge over an inland lake of luminous water. Fish with golden scales swam below, leaving trails of liquid light.
Lucy practically pressed her face against the railing.
"Rich little fish!"
Miguel took a deep breath.
"They’re not rich."
"They’re golden."
"That doesn’t mean wealth."
"To me it does."
Vergil nodded slightly.
"A strong argument."
Miguel seemed increasingly close to developing a new deadly sin just to deal with this.
On the other side of the bridge, they passed a gallery of monumental statues representing ancient guardians, scribes, and sacred figures of Eden. Each one was dozens of meters tall and had serene expressions.
Lucy stopped before a particularly austere statue, with six open wings and a lowered sword.
"Is she angry?"
Gabriel responded before anyone could make the situation worse.
"She’s contemplative."
Lucy tilted her head.
"She looks angry while contemplating."
Uriel couldn’t suppress a short laugh.
Miguel stared at her.
"Are you laughing?"
"No."
"You laughed."
"Prove it."
Vergil walked calmly as the argument raged behind him.
"Healthy family," he commented.
Further ahead, the corridor narrowed and became a living library. Endless bookshelves rose on multiple levels, connected by staircases of light. Scrolls floated alone from one side to the other, organizing themselves. Books walked short distances along the shelves before settling down.
Lucy gasped.
"Books walk!"
"Yes," Gabriel replied, with a bit of involuntary pride. "They rearrange themselves according to the priority of knowledge."
Lucy pointed to a thick tome that trotted slowly.
"That one looks tired."
Vergil observed the book.
"It certainly does."
Gabriel realized he was conversing normally with a demon child accompanied by Vergil inside Eden and closed his eyes for two seconds.
"What happened to my life?"
Uriel shrugged.
"You made a career."
They then arrived at a gigantic spiral staircase that ascended through a void filled with suspended bells. Each step was made of white stone with golden fillets, and each step triggered a low musical note.
Lucy climbed the first step.
Ton.
Her eyes widened.
She climbed another.
Tan.
Then another. Tlim.
She started running up the stairs, laughing, producing a chaotic sequence of notes.
Miguel put his hand to his face.
"No."
Lucy ran faster.
Tlim ton tan tlom tlom tin!
Vergil watched with apparent serenity.
"She’s composing."
Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose.
"She’s vandalizing a liturgical staircase."
Uriel crossed his arms.
"I liked the middle part."
When they reached the top, Lucy was sitting on the last step, breathless and proud.
"I made music."
Vergil passed by her and extended his hand. She immediately took it.
"You did."
The last part of the journey was silent.
The walls ceased to be ordinary marble and became something older, almost mineral and organic at the same time. Soft runes pulsed beneath the surface, reacting to the group’s presence. The air felt heavier, not from hostility, but from significance. This was the region where Metatron worked, and even the archangels instinctively adjusted their posture.
Lucy noticed the change.
"It’s quiet."
Gabriel replied in a low voice.
"Here, words matter more."
Lucy thought for a moment.
"Then I can speak softly."
Vergil glanced at her sideways.
"Excellent strategy."
They finally arrived before two immense doors with no apparent hinges. They weren’t golden or ornate like the rest of Eden. They were smooth, ancient, and marked by symbols that seemed to change whenever someone tried to fix their gaze on them.
Michael straightened up.
"Metatron’s chamber."
Uriel cast one last look at Vergil.
"If you provoke anything here, not even I will prevent the response."
Vergil adjusted the collar of his coat.
"I came to talk."
Gabriel raised an eyebrow.
"You said that before the tsunami."
"And I talked before the tsunami."
Lucy tugged at his sleeve.
"Who is Metatron?"
Vergil answered calmly.
"Someone important, tired, and probably busy."
Gabriel murmured:
"Incredibly accurate."
The doors began to open on their own, emitting a deep sound like pages turning the size of mountains.
Lucy gripped Vergil’s hand tighter and smiled, completely at ease.
"This place is fun."
Miguel stared at the ceiling, asking the cosmos for patience.
Uriel exhaled through his nose.
Gabriel simply pointed to the opening.
"Go in quickly, before she decides to adopt the library."
The colossal doors finished opening slowly, revealing a chamber so vast that for a few seconds it seemed to belong to no ordinary architecture. There was no visible ceiling, only heights lost in luminous mist and concentric circles of white metal slowly spinning in the void. Thin columns rose like spears until they disappeared above, amidst veils of light and artificial constellations etched into the very air.
The floor was smooth as a mirror, reflecting each step of the group with unsettling clarity. Living symbols ran beneath the translucent surface, like rivers of writing flowing through sacred stone. The entire environment seemed to think.
Lucy squeezed Vergil’s hand and whispered, impressed.
"This place seems to control everyone."
Gabriel sighed.
"In a certain sense... it does."
In the center of the chamber, with its back to the entrance, stood only one figure.
Tall, motionless, enveloped in robes and armor that seemed made of liquid silver and polished ivory, outlined with golden lines so fine they resembled divine circuits. Long white hair cascaded almost to the floor in soft strands, moving without any wind, as if gravity allowed exceptions near him.
Large, clear wings remained half-open behind his body, vast and perfect, each feather emitting a discreet glow. Above his head, luminous rings and crown-like structures floated in slow orbit, forming multiple halos that shifted position as they were observed. His mere presence altered the perspective of the hall; he seemed sharper than the rest of the world.
Miguel immediately lowered his head.
Uriel straightened his posture.
Gabriel crossed his arms, but also showed silent respect.
Vergil simply continued walking.
The figure slightly raised one hand, and dozens of scrolls floating around him disappeared into golden particles. Then he turned.
His face was serene in an almost irritating way. Beautiful in impossible proportions, without apparent hardness, but with a look that suggested calculations happening in unsettling depths. His clear lilac eyes rested on Vergil with genuine curiosity, like someone finally encountering an interesting mathematical problem.
Lucy blinked several times.
"He’s too bright."
Metatron smiled slightly.
"Thank you."
Lucy’s eyes widened.
"He heard very quietly!"
"I hear many things," he replied calmly.
Then his eyes returned to Vergil.
"It’s a pleasure to finally meet the Demon King who stole the power of Death."
The silence that followed was immediate.
Michael closed his eyes, anticipating conflict.
Uriel prepared to shout.
Gabriel merely murmured:
"Here we go."
Vergil tilted his head a few degrees, observing Metatron as he would appraise a rare sword.
"Stolen is an inelegant word."
He put one hand in his pocket.
"I prefer ’acquired by lethal merit’."
Lucy raised her small hand.
"I like that phrase."
Metatron let out a small laugh, soft and surprisingly human for something so elevated.
"I see. So the reports weren’t exaggerating."
Vergil raised an eyebrow.
"Which reports?"
"The ones that describe you as talented, troublesome, and dramatically self-assured."
Gabriel nodded immediately.
"Accurate."
Uriel nodded as well.
"Conservatives, even."
Miguel remained silent out of pride.
Vergil ignored them all.
"And you must be Metatron. Cosmic secretary, supreme scribe, manager of celestial crises, and probable victim of excessive responsibility."
Metatron smiled more clearly this time.
"I’ve also read reports about you."
Lucy let go of Vergil’s hand and walked a few steps forward, gazing at Metatron’s enormous wings with childlike fascination.
"Can I touch them?"
Miguel almost collapsed.
"No!"
Metatron raised his hand, preventing a reaction.
"You can."
Lucy ran to him, carefully touched a shiny feather, and smiled broadly.
"It’s soft!"
Vergil observed the scene with complete tranquility.
Uriel stared at Gabriel.
"Why is he so calm?"
Gabriel answered in a low voice.
"Because the child isn’t the problem. The father is."
Metatron looked back at Vergil while Lucy examined a wing like an enthusiastic scientist.
"Then tell me. You invade Eden, flood sacred corridors, humiliate my archangels, and demand an audience."
He inclined his head slightly.
"What exactly do you want, Vergil Lucifer?"
Vergil took a step forward. His reflection in the mirrored floor seemed to split for an instant into multiple shadowy versions before recomposing itself.
"Can you send them away? I only want to talk to you and the Heavenly Father."
Metatron looked at him and nodded, "Can you wait outside? I’ll handle this."
The three of them, Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel, looked at each other and simply nodded, then left, closing the door behind them.
