Dinner
Sera stepped forward, her movements quiet, as if reluctant to disturb the moment. Yet, despite her efforts, the rustling of her gown and the shift in her presence did not go unnoticed.
Adam was the first to spot her, his sharp senses honed by centuries of battle and vigilance. He turned his head slightly, his golden eyes landing on her, before a smile tugged at his lips.
“Well, well,” he said, his voice still carrying the warmth of the song. “Look who’s back.”
Emily looked up from her dough, blinking in surprise before breaking into a bright grin. “Mom!” she exclaimed, wiping her flour-covered hands against her apron before rushing over to her mother. “You’re home!”
Sera gave her a small smile, brushing off some of the flour left on Emily’s cheek. “I am,” she said simply, before glancing toward Adam. “How did the meeting go?” he asked, voice lighter than before but still carrying an edge of concern.
“For now,” Sera said with a sigh, “the voices in Heaven have somewhat calmed.”
Adam huffed. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Emily, who had already turned back to her dough, perked up. “I still have a lot to talk to you about, Mom,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “But for now, I just want to eat.”
Adam chuckled. “Then let’s not keep the young lady waiting.”
With a smooth, effortless motion, he walked over and pulled out a chair for Sera. She arched a brow at him but accepted the gesture, sitting down gracefully. He then moved over to Emily, pushing her chair closer as she settled in.
But just as Sera was about to comment on his unusually doting behavior, Adam suddenly straightened up.
A golden shimmer surrounded him, and in the blink of an eye, his entire attire shifted.
His celestial robes melted away, replaced by a crisp white button-up shirt, a black vest, and neatly pressed slacks. A dark apron materialized around his waist, a golden nametag pinned to the fabric that read: "Chef Adam." To complete the absurd transformation, a perfectly groomed golden mustache curled atop his upper lip.
Sera blinked. Emily gasped.
Adam then clasped his hands together, his entire demeanor shifting to that of a professional restaurant worker.
Adam cleared his throat dramatically, straightening his vest as he clasped his hands behind his back. His golden mustache twitched as he took a deep breath, as if preparing for the most important performance of his life.
“Now then, dear esteemed guests,” he began, his voice smooth and professional, “allow me to introduce you to the finest selection of dishes crafted by the one and only Chef Adam. Our menu tonight is a delicate balance of tradition, divine inspiration, and a pinch of je ne sais quoi.”
With a flourish, he snapped his fingers, and the golden menus in Sera’s and Emily’s hands shimmered, the text shifting and glowing as he spoke.
“For our appetizer selection,” Adam continued, pacing slowly as he gestured with one hand, “we have the Celestial Bread Basket, featuring an assortment of freshly baked loaves—golden honey wheat, heavenly sourdough, and ambrosial brioche—all accompanied by an ethereal butter, churned by only the finest of cherubs.”
Emily giggled. “Do the cherubs actually do that?”
Adam shot her a knowing look. “I’ll neither confirm nor deny, dear customer, but let’s just say—have you ever seen an unsatisfied angel after eating this bread?”
Emily grinned. “Then I definitely want some!”
“An excellent choice!” Adam exclaimed before dramatically flipping a nonexistent notepad. “Now, moving on to the main courses! For those with a taste for comfort and warmth, I humbly recommend our Heavenly Hearth Stew, a rich and hearty dish made with the finest ingredients—slow-roasted celestial lamb, garden-grown vegetables hand-picked from the fields of Elysium, and a broth simmered over divine embers for exactly seven days and seven nights.”
Sera raised an eyebrow. “That seems... excessive.”
Adam gasped, placing a hand over his heart as if physically wounded. “Madame! The craft of fine cuisine demands nothing less than absolute perfection!”
Emily stifled a laugh, watching her father dramatically wipe an imaginary tear before regaining his composure.
“Now,” he continued, standing tall, “for those who seek a meal fit for the warriors of Heaven themselves, we offer the Champion’s Feast! A plate stacked high with expertly seared ambrosial steak, paired with golden fig-glazed root vegetables and a side of celestial rice harvested under the light of a Morning Star.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “That sounds amazing.”
“But wait! There’s more!” Adam interrupted, raising a finger. “For the more refined palate, we have our Blessed Nectar Salad, a divine blend of crisp greens kissed by the morning dew, candied pecans gathered by only the most enthusiastic of angels, and a drizzle of golden ambrosia dressing. Light, refreshing, and absolutely transcendent!”
Sera sighed, shaking her head but unable to hide the small amused smile forming on her lips. “And what of dessert?” she asked, playing along.
Adam’s eyes sparkled. “Ah! The Grand Finale!” He snapped his fingers, and above them, a golden platter appeared, displaying ethereal pastries that shimmered as if made from stardust. “We have the Seraph’s Delight, a delicate mille-feuille layered with sweetened cloud cream and garnished with crystallized rose petals. Or, if you prefer something more indulgent, I highly recommend the Sinner’s Sin, a decadent dark chocolate soufflé that is said to be so rich, Lucifer himself tried to claim it as his own!”
Emily gasped dramatically. “Did he succeed?”
Adam leaned in, lowering his voice to a mock whisper. “Not while I was around.”
Emily burst into laughter, while Sera simply exhaled, shaking her head.
“Well, Chef Adam,” she said, placing her hands on the table. “I’ll have the bread, butter, and the Hearth Stew.”
Emily grinned. “I want the bread and butter too! And the Champion’s Feast!”
Adam nodded, snapping his fingers as he bowed. “Two excellent selections! Your orders shall be prepared with the greatest care and devotion.” Then, with an exaggerated flourish, he spun on his heel and marched toward the kitchen like a man on a mission.
Emily watched him go, her grin still wide. “You know, Mom,” she said, resting her chin on her hands. “Even with everything going on, I don’t think there’s anyone in Heaven or Hell quite like Dad.”
Sera glanced at Adam, watching as he enthusiastically began preparing their meals, his golden mustache still perfectly curled.
“No,” she murmured, allowing herself a small smile. “There certainly isn’t.”
Sera and Emily sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds in the room coming from the distant clattering of pots and the rhythmic slicing of a knife as Adam busied himself in the kitchen.
Emily idly traced a small pattern on the table with her finger, her wings fluttered slightly as she glanced toward Head Seraphim. Sera, ever composed, sat straight, her fingers rested lightly against the table as she gazed at her daughter with a thoughtful expression.
After a while, Sera finally spoke. “How was your day, Emily?”
Emily perked up a little at the question, a small smile formed on her lips. “It was pretty fine. Normal, I guess,” she said, tapping her fingers on the table. “I spent most of it trying to come up with new activities for Heaven’s denizens—y’know, little things to make them smile.”
Sera gave a small, professional nod.
“I also visited some of the orphanages,” Emily added, her expression softening. “The kids were so happy to see me! We played together for a while—hide and seek, drawing, singing. A couple of them even tried to climb on my wings.” She laughed a little at the memory. “There was a lot that happened today, but it was nice. Seeing them happy always makes it worth it.”
Sera watched her for a moment, taking in the warmth in Emily’s voice. There was something so pure about the way she spoke, the way she found joy in simply bringing happiness to others.
Emily tilted her head. “What about you, Mom? How was your day?”
Sera let out a small sigh, adjusting the way she sat. “It was long,” she finally admitted. “Especially with that meeting that stretched on longer than it should have.”
Emily frowned slightly. “Another one? What was it about?”
Sera hesitated. How much should she say? She had spoken with Michael, listened to the murmurs of Heaven’s highest voices debating the state of things, tried to quiet their doubts. She had reassured them, but only for now.
“I was ensuring Heaven’s order,” she answered vaguely, but not untrue. That had been her role for centuries, after all. As High Seraphim, she was responsible for overseeing the grand workings of Heaven—the preservation of its peace, the regulation of angelic duties, and the sanctioning of major decisions, one of them being the Exterminations.
Emily studied her for a moment as if sensing there was more, but before she could ask, Adam’s voice rang out.
“Ladies! Your first course is served!”
Both turned to see the universe's first cook approaching, his golden mustache was still pristine as he carried a tray in each hand. With a flourishing move, he placed the dishes before them. The scent of warm, freshly baked bread and rich, golden butter quickly filled the air. The loaves looked impossibly soft, their crusts shimmered faintly as if they had been kissed by light itself.
“Bon appétit!” Adam declared with a grin, giving a small bow before turning on his heels and marching back to the kitchen.
Emily giggled as she reached for the bread.
--
The warm glow of candlelight flickered across the table as Sera and Emily finished their first course. The scent of the fresh bread lingered in the air, but as soon as the plates were empty, silence returned like an uninvited guest.
Emily shifted slightly, her hands resting in her lap, her expression pensive. She glanced at her mother, who remained composed as ever, waiting for her to speak.
“…Mom,” Emily finally said, her voice soft but steady. “Can we talk about the Exterminations?”
Sera’s gaze returned toward her daughter.
“Have you spoken with your father about this?”
Emily nodded. “Yeah. He told me a story… about a farmer who became a general.” She traced small circles on the table with her finger.
Sera closed her eyes briefly.
“He also told me that some of Hell’s denizens managed to leave that realm,” Emily continued. “Some even invaded Earth and Heaven.”
Sera opened her eyes again.
“And what do you think?”
Emily hesitated, then shook her head. “I still don’t agree with the Exterminations.”
Sera’s expression didn’t change, but her fingers pressed slightly against the edge of the pristine, white table.
“They’ve already been punished, haven’t they?” Emily pressed on, her voice now filled with conviction. “They suffer every day down there. Surely not all of them are bad.”
Sera sighed. “You are assuming that suffering leads to redemption.”
Emily’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met Charlie.”
That made Sera pause.
“The Devil’s daughter,” Emily clarified. “And she doesn’t seem bad at all.”
Sera raised an eyebrow.
Emily continued. “And I am sure she’s trying to help her people to change … to be better.”
Sera remained silent, continuing to observe her daughter’s.
“And besides,” Emily continued, her voice gaining more strength, “Cain and Aclima are both angels, aren’t they? Even with their history, they’re still here in Heaven.”
Sera exhaled slowly. “They are different.”
“Are they?” Emily’s brows furrowed. “You never told me about the Exterminations, or any of the other angels. Why, Mom? Why didn’t you tell me, anyone?”
Sera looked away for a moment, collecting her thoughts before speaking. “Because the situation is much more complicated than you think.”
Emily opened her mouth to argue, but Sera continued. “I had my reasons for secrecy. If Heaven doesn’t control Hell’s population, the balance would be changed again. Cursed souls are meant to remain in Hell. They are dangerous, corrupted by sin and evil beyond repair. If we let them remain unchecked, they could…”
“That still doesn’t make it right,” Emily interrupted, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. “What Heaven is doing… it’s horrible.”
Sera studied her daughter for a long moment before leaning forward slightly. “Then tell me, Emily … what would you like to do about it?”
Emily blinked, caught off guard.
Sera kept her gaze steady. “If you disagree with the Exterminations, what solution do you propose? How do you suggest we make them unnecessary?”
Emily hesitated for only a moment before lifting her chin. “I want to help Charlie’s hotel.”
Sera took another sip of her drink, savoring the fleeting warmth before exhaling a slow, measured sigh.
"It’s not that simple, Emily," she said at last. "Charlie hasn’t proven herself."
Emily furrowed her brows. “But she’s trying...”
"And yet, we have no reason to trust her," Sera countered. "For all we know, her ‘hotel’ could be nothing more than a front for something else. A means to amass power, to gather demons under her banner under the guise of redemption."
"… you really think she's building an army?"
Sera leaned back slightly, watching her daughter carefully. "That’s the issue. We don't know. And even if she is serious about redemption, she has no proof that it works."
Emily’s grip on her dress tightened. "That’s not fair! Just because she hasn’t succeeded yet doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. She’s already helped someone…"
"A single drug addict helping another Sinner isn’t enough," Sera interrupted, her tone steady but firm. "That’s an isolated incident, not proof of redemption."
Emily inhaled sharply, frustration flickering in her eyes. "Then why not send someone to watch? If you think she’s lying, then let’s send a few of heaven’s blessed knights or even a saint to monitor the hotel. If there’s a problem, they can deal with it."
Sera sighed again. "That would be too much work."
Emily scowled. "Really? Too much work to even consider an alternative to mass genocide?"
Sera’s expression remained unreadable. "Blessed knights should only be deployed when a conflict appears, not to babysit a pet project of Hell’s princess. And saints are far too rare. Losing even one in case of a tragedy would be a tragedy."
Their back-and-forth continued, neither was willing to yield.
Until the kitchen door swung open.
Adam strode in, balancing several plates in his hands. “Ladies, ladies,” he called dramatically, “I do hope you’ve saved room for the next course because..” He stopped mid-step, raising an eyebrow at the palpable tension in the room.
He glanced between the two, then sighed as he set the plates down. “Alright. Who said what?”
Emily’s expression remained firm as she met her father’s gaze. “I want to help the Sinners. I don’t believe they’re all irredeemable monsters.”
Sera exhaled through her nose but remained silent.
“They’re your descendants, Dad,” Emily pressed on, her voice tinged with disappointment. “Even if they’re a little misguided, that doesn’t mean they can’t be shown the light of our Lord. And honestly…” Her gaze flickered between both her parents. “I’m disappointed. You’re angels. You’re supposed to be compassionate, merciful. But you’re acting like they don’t even deserve a chance.”
Sera’s jaw tightened.
Adam, however, let out a long, weary sigh. He pinched the bridge of his non-existent nose, rolled his shoulders as if the weight of the conversation had settled on him physically. “Alright,” he said finally, “this is a conversation we can have. But not at the dinner table.”
Emily’s lips parted to protest, but he lifted a hand. “No. We’ll talk after. For now, I don’t want to sully my appetite with this subject.”
Emily huffed but didn’t argue further. The tension didn’t fade, but it at least settled into an uneasy truce as they focused on the meal in front of them.
Despite Adam’s attempts to lighten the atmosphere—cracking a joke here and there, playfully offering Emily extra portions there—it didn’t work. The mood remained heavy.
When the last plate was cleared, Emily wasted no time. She set down her napkin, folded her hands on the table, and fixed her parents with a resolute stare.
“Now that dinner’s done,” she said, “I want to continue our conversation.”
Adam exhaled heavily, rubbing his temple. “Emily… the situation is too complicated.”
Emily shook her head. “Just because something is difficult doesn’t mean it’s impossible to overcome.”
Adam glanced at her, his expression changed to that of annoyance.
“You should know that better than anyone, Dad,” Emily continued, her voice gaining strength. “Look at the soldiers under your command—every one of them trains day and night to push their limits, to become stronger, to ascend in their potential so they can serve Heaven better.” She leaned forward with determination filling her gaze.
“Look at you—you started as nothing more than a winner. Then you became a squire. You trained, fought, struggled. You became a Blessed Knight, then a Saint. And now…” She gestured at him. “Now, you’re the most powerful Sovereign in Heaven. You achieved something nobody else even considered to be possible.”
Adam’s brow furrowed; his golden eyes darkened.
“The reason I sought strength was for the protection of Heaven,” he countered. “And the others who walk the same path did so for the same reason.” His voice was steady, firm. “That’s why we do what we do.”
Emily clenched her fists on the table. "But why? Why aren't you even willing to try?"
Sera sighed, placing her glass down gently. "Because I am not willing to risk the denizens of Heaven for a mere possibility, Emily." Her voice was calm but firm. "I need results. Proof. If the Morningstar’s hotel truly works—if she can show undeniable evidence that sinners can change—only then would I even be willing to consider giving aid."
Emily looked at Adam next, but his expression was already hardened.
"I wouldn't bother," Adam said, his voice low and unwavering. "There’s no way that anyone who grew under Lucifer and Lilith is a kind person." His golden eyes darkened with something more than just certainty—something more personal. "I trusted them once, and the results were catastrophic."
Emily opened her mouth to argue, but Adam raised a hand, cutting her off before she could speak.
"It's already getting late," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "We all have a lot of work to do tomorrow."
Emily clenched her jaw, frustration written all over her face. With a huff, she pushed back her chair and stood up. "Fine," she muttered, turning on her heel. "But this conversation isn’t over."
Neither Adam nor Sera stopped her as she stomped off to her room, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall. When her door clicked shut, the dining hall fell into silence.
Adam let out a long, weary sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nonexistent nose. "That girl..."
Sera exhaled as well, resting her chin on her hand. "She's passionate. Stubborn, too. I wonder where she gets it from."
Adam gave her a pointed look. "Don’t start."
Sera allowed herself a small smirk before her expression turned serious. "She’s not wrong, you know."
Adam leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "She’s naïve. She doesn’t understand the reality of what she’s searching for."
Sera studied him for a moment before speaking softly. "Do we?"
Sera watched Adam, noticing the slight slump in his posture, the way his fingers drummed absently against the table. She reached for her cup, taking another slow sip before setting it down.
“How are you doing?” she asked, her voice softer now, lacking the authority it held during dinner.
Adam sighed and ran a hand over his head. “It was a long day,” he admitted. “Over three hundred new souls arrived in Heaven today, and getting them all settled in was... tiresome.”
Sera frowned. “I told you before, you should get someone to help you. Any Sovereign would gladly assist.”
Adam let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I’ll consider it. But even if I did, I’m not sure anyone would accept. They have their own responsibilities. The only one who might be is Abel, but…” He exhaled sharply. “He only became a Sovereign three months ago. He still needs time to adjust—time to rest.”
Sera reached across the table and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “Adam, you don’t have to take everything on yourself.”
He stared at their joined hands for a moment before glancing up at her, his expression unreadable. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. Then, Adam cleared his throat. “And what about you?” he asked, turning the question back on her. “How was your day?”
Sera took in a slow breath. Unlike with Emily, she didn’t hold anything back. She told him everything—the long, tense meetings, the discussions about Extermination, the whispers of unrest among the angels, Michael’s warning.
Adam listened in silence, his brows furrowing slightly as she spoke.
When she was done, he chuckled, before shaking his head. “So, some of the angels actually think we act like Overlords. Like Tyrant’s?” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “That’s a little insulting. I lead the Exorcists, sure, but I’m not lording over them. And yet they’re worried I’ll start acting like some power-hungry warlord?” He let out another chuckle, though there was an edge to it.
“Ridiculous.”
Sera allowed herself a small smile. “They just worry about what power does to people.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Please. If I wanted absolute power, or if I’d even wish to take over heaven, I’d have tried long ago.”
Sera sighed, setting her empty cup down. “Did Michael do anything else?” Adam asked, leaning back slightly.
She shrugged. “He only promised his help. And… he mentioned he would be glad if we could meet again.”
Adam raised a brow. “And did you accept?”
Sera shook her head. “No. I have no reason to. I manage my work perfectly well as it is. I don’t need…”
Adam suddenly let out a low growl, making Sera pause. She turned her gaze toward him. “What’s wrong?”
Adam exhaled sharply before giving her a pointed look—his expression clearly saying, Are you serious?
Sera frowned. “What?”
Adam scoffed, running a hand down his face. “Do you really not realize what’s happening?”
Sera’s frown deepened, but Adam didn’t press further. Instead, he got up and started gathering the dishes, beginning to clean up the table. Sera sat there for a moment, thinking, before she sighed and stood as well.
As Adam finished cleaning, they naturally began walking toward their bedroom.
As they walked through the halls, the warm glow of Heaven’s eternal light casting long shadows behind them, Sera broke the silence.
“And what about Lute?” she asked, her voice neutral.
Adam shrugged. “The same as always. Ever so loyal.” He let out a short breath. “She learned a few new tricks using her gift of shadow control, but nothing more of interest happened.”
Sera hummed in acknowledgment but turned her gaze away slightly, looking at the golden filigree of the walls as they walked.
Adam glanced at her, noticing the subtle shift in her expression—the way her lips pressed together just a little tighter, the way her wings twitched.
A slow smirk formed on his face. “Are you jealous?”
Sera’s head snapped back toward him, her eyes wide as the faintest golden blush dusted her cheeks. “Not at all,” she said quickly, too quickly.
Adam’s smirk widened. “Oh?”
Sera straightened, regaining her composure. “She is your Lieutenant, your most trusted warrior. I have no reason to be jealous.”
“Uh-huh.” Adam’s voice was thick with amusement.
Sera huffed, walking a little faster. “Come along, husband. We have much to do tomorrow.”
Adam chuckled under his breath, following her with a knowing look.
Adam continue to grin, his amusement only growing as he watched Sera’s golden blush deepen.
“You are jealous. Admit it.”
“I am not,” Sera huffed, folding her arms as they continued walking.
Adam chuckled, leaning in just slightly. “My loving wife is jealous that her husband is around other women.”
“No, she doesn’t care about that,” Sera said firmly, lifting her chin with an air of regal indifference.
“Oh?” Adam’s smirk turned downright devilish. “So this man is allowed to accept Lute’s invitation to visit her house, then?”
Sera stopped walking.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, she slowly turned her head to look at him, her eyes narrowing.
Adam raised a brow, waiting.
Sera opened her mouth—
And then promptly closed it.
Adam laughed. “Thought so.”
“Don’t you bloody dare.”
Adam blinked, feigning innocence. “What?”
Sera crossed her arms, her golden eyes narrowing. “I do not allow you to go to anyone else during nighttime unless it’s an emergency.”
“Why not?” Adam teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“It’s just that…” Sera huffed, turning away. “The First Sovereign is my husband, and as such, I want him to be in my house at night.”
Adam stopped.
Then, with an almost effortless motion, he swept her up into his arms, cradling her in a perfect princess carry.
Sera stiffened. “What are you doing?”
Adam looked down at her, his expression suddenly more serious. “Promise me.”
“What?”
“I want you to promise me that you will be mine. No matter what.”
Sera’s blush deepened. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
“But I belong to you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, but that’s not fair.” Adam grinned.
Sera’s lips parted to argue, but before she could speak, Adam leaned down and gave her a quick smooch.
Her golden blush darkened instantly. “Stop that.”
He kissed her again.
“Stop it.”
“Promise me.”
“No.”
Smooch.
“No, I am the Head Seraphim.”
“And a very beautiful wife who deeply loves her husband.”
“No.”
“Say it.”
“…”
Smooch
“Okay, fine. I love you.”
“And?”
“…”
“Aaand?”
“…”
Smooch
“Okay, fine! I have the greatest husband in all of Heaven. I love the fact that despite our size difference, he is always able to carry me like a princess. I love his food, I adore his stupid antics, and I don’t want him to be around anyone else.”
Adam’s grin widened. “What about the other angels? Michael?”
Sera rolled her eyes but then smiled softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Even a thousand Michaels are nothing compared to my dickmaster. There is no one I am prouder to call my husband than the man who currently carries me.”
And with that, the doors of their bedroom closed behind them.