In a time forgotten, when the boundaries between Heaven and Earth blurred, there existed an angel named Seraphiel. She was the most radiant of all, her beauty unparalleled by any celestial being or mortal. Her wings shimmered like a thousand dawns, and her voice was the soft echo of the universe's deepest truths. She was a beacon of grace, adored by the heavens and revered by the stars. Yet, with beauty came envy, and with envy, a darkness that could not be avoided.
Seraphiel served as the highest messenger of the Divine, tasked with delivering God's will to both angels and men. She was a voice of reason, a source of hope, and yet the heavens, with their endless perfection, began to grow weary of her brilliance. The other angels, once friends and comrades, became envious of her grace. In the deepest recesses of the celestial courts, whispers arose, plotting against her. How could one being be allowed to outshine them all?

Sandalphon stands undeterred, a warrior angel braving the storm with strength and grace. His armor glistens under the heavy rain, his wings poised for flight as the storm intensifies around him.
The Seraphim, the highest of the angelic order, saw Seraphiel's beauty as a threat. They feared that the power of her radiance would overshadow their authority. But more than that, they resented the love that she garnered from the humans, who saw her as a symbol of purity and hope.
The Seraphim conspired with the fallen, those angels who had already turned against the Creator. Together, they concocted a plan to strip Seraphiel of her beauty and cast her into the abyss of the mortal world. A place where time and suffering would rob her of everything she was. In their jealousy, they believed they could break her spirit and see her become nothing more than a forgotten myth.
One fateful evening, as Seraphiel descended from the heavens to deliver her message to a troubled world, the trap was set. A powerful force, unseen and insidious, bound her wings, stifling her song and shrouding her in a darkness colder than the void. She fell, not as a messenger, but as a prisoner, her beauty fading with each passing moment. The angels who once adored her now turned their backs, as the world below awaited her fall.
When Seraphiel landed upon Earth, she found herself in a world of suffering, a dystopia where cities crumbled beneath the weight of corruption, and humanity was enslaved to the whims of oppressive overlords. The people had forgotten their connection to the divine, their souls crushed under the weight of war, famine, and despair. And here, in the midst of their despair, Seraphiel was abandoned.
For years, she wandered through this bleak landscape, her wings no longer capable of flight, her radiance reduced to a faint glow. Her once-angelic voice was now a mere whisper of what it had been. Yet the fire within her, the essence of what she was, could not be extinguished. Slowly, her grief transformed into a burning desire for vengeance, a thirst for justice that could not be quenched.
The world had forgotten the divine, and in turn, had forgotten her. But now, she would make them remember.

Ishim, a courageous warrior with wings and a radiant light, leads his comrades through the shadows, their mission uncertain but their resolve unbreakable.
Seraphiel sought out the humans, not to offer solace, but to stir the ashes of rebellion. She infiltrated the councils of the powerful, whispering into the ears of the oppressed, stirring them to rise against their masters. She spoke of freedom, of vengeance, and of an ultimate reckoning. She knew the world had forgotten its gods, but she also knew that the power of the celestial was not bound by time or place.
The first revolution came like a whisper on the wind, unnoticed by the oppressors. Yet, as more and more people rallied to her cause, their actions grew bolder, more violent. Seraphiel led them in the shadows, a specter of vengeance and rage. Her beauty, once a symbol of purity, became a weapon. The oppressors, who had thought themselves untouchable, now found their strongholds crumbling as Seraphiel's followers tore through their cities with a relentless fury.
But as the battles raged on, Seraphiel's power began to manifest in ways she had never imagined. Her appearance transformed, not just in body, but in mind and spirit. The dark force that had been bound to her, placed there by the Seraphim, now merged with her own strength. She was no longer the angel of beauty; she had become something darker, something more fearsome. Her wings, tattered and blackened, spread across the skies, blotting out the sun. Her eyes, once pools of light, had become burning orbs of judgment.
The final confrontation took place in the heart of the capital, where the leaders of the oppressive forces had gathered to make their last stand. The city trembled as Seraphiel arrived, her presence like a storm. The once-great leaders, who had mocked the divine, now cowered before her fury. They begged for mercy, but there would be none. She was beyond mercy now, beyond grace.
With a single cry, she tore through the skies, sending a wave of destruction so fierce that the very foundations of the city cracked and split. The ground quaked beneath her feet as the heavens themselves seemed to answer her call. The capital, once a symbol of their power, crumbled into dust.

In this enchanting scene, Gabriel stands poised in a serene landscape at sunset, embodying purity and grace as the sunlight forms a radiant halo around him, symbolizing hope and tranquility amidst nature's beauty.
And as the world fell into chaos, Seraphiel stood amidst the ruins. Her vengeance had been enacted, but it came at a great cost. She had become something less than the angel she once was and something more - something unholy and eternal.
The world would never forget Seraphiel, but not for the reasons it once had. She was no longer a symbol of beauty, but of the darkness that comes when a soul is driven to revenge. She had delved deep into the abyss, embracing the ultimate price of vengeance. In the end, Seraphiel became both the destroyer and the destroyed, a being neither of Heaven nor Earth, but something in between - forever a reminder of the price of envy and the power of a fallen angel.
And thus, her tale was whispered through the centuries, not as a myth of beauty, but as a warning to all who would dare to challenge the divine order.