Be it humans, elves, or animals, it was written in Heaven’s Law that only the purest souls could re enter Heaven. One must be void of sins to pass through Heaven's Gate. But… is it possible to live a life with no sin?
Even angels have their wicked schemes. So no. There was no way an ordinary mortal creature could do that. A person’s life was the sum of countless actions, many of which they had no control of. Just a moment of lust, just a single wicked thought, or a simple mistake could be enough to lead one to the wrong path, tainting their soul with the muddiness of sins.
Therefore, a final trial was needed for souls to have a chance of redeeming themselves before Heaven's Eyes. Purgatory was created, and by none other than the Creator himself. It was the realm of purification. A borderless world of blazing colorless flame, capable of cleansing souls of all its impurities and immoral traits. Hence, only once purified by the holy flame may one gain access to Heaven.
However, the process was incredibly painful and destructive. Even the smallest sins would require a pain equivalent to a hundred stabbing knives before it could be cleansed. So, in this realm of purification, hundreds of souls would come in, but only a few could make it through. The rest?
Reduced to nothingness.
And yet, there was him.
Purgatory flame could be seen engulfing a bubbling mass. Black mud. Only sinful mortals need purification, yet why was a reaper here? And besides, a normal soul could only withstand this flame for a few minutes at best. Even angels never dared entering this realm despite already being the purest creations. But him? How many years had it been? A few… hundreds?
The surrounding was filled with painful cries. Countless souls could be heard screaming, crying, shouting and begging for forgiveness. Yet, the man remained calm, sitting there, back against his giant, shining scythe.
Why?
Everyday, his loyal subordinates always checked on him, but even they had no idea why. No one forced him to, nor had he committed any sin to be put into purgatory. In fact, even the highest rank archangels and reapers had nothing but admiration of him. After all, he was the highest rank Reaper, the Commander of Heaven's army, the one who faced Lucifer and emerged victorious!
But purgatory was his own choice. Yes, he threw himself into this sea of flame, looking for some kind of salvation.
And this was all because of that one memory.
That day, the day Lucifer fell from grace.
“Lucifer…” asked Amarae while holding his scythe, which had nearly sliced Lucifer’s body into halves. “Tell me, why do you do this? Why choose the path of destruction?”
“Ha, look like I’m defeated…” said The First Angel with a shattered divine core. Despite being at the brink of death, there was not a single trace of resentment or anger in her voice. Blood tainted her white long dress yet she remained as beautiful as ever.
Amarae averted his gaze. He could not afford looking into her eyes, which even now sparkled the unmatched beauty of the morningstar. She didn’t give him a clear answer though, but instead, just placed her hand onto his chest…
“Because of this…”
“This?”
“It’s called free will. You too will be able to feel it soon.”
But that just made Amarae even more confused.
“You already know from the start… that you can’t win, right?”
But Lucifer shook her head.
“But I don’t think I have lost yet”
“Huh?”
“Tell me, Amarae,” the archangel suddenly asked back. “If something is created in God’s image, then how come it is capable of sins?”
