The Fat and the Proud

Chapter 1: Zachary

Michael opened the portal to the outer universe, the clouds that made up the floor slowly parting. He was about to jump until-

"Michael!"

The Seraphim turned around, only to see Jonah flying towards him.

"Jonah? What are you..."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" the older Seraphim asked "You know that Zaitra isn't joking about banishing you, right? If you were to fail..."

Michael cut him off "I shall not fail, I know Ezekiel better than anyone and I know he would never disobey me. I'll simply go to him, tell him what must be done and bring him back"

Jonah listened to him, looking quite concerned "You're awfully confident in that... you know being so bold is a sin, and nothing good ever comes out of being overly-confident!" he warned the other Angel, the memories of a certain fallen Angel still fresh in his mind.

"Spare me that talk, Jonah, nobody will care about it as long as I turn out to be right in the end" Michael firmly said, not wasting any more time and jumping into the portal. Still, Jonah's words lingered in his mind for more than he would've wanted. Was that exactly what Zaitra was betting on? His stubbornness? His confidence? But why? He'd always done his job perfectly, he wasn't plotting anything against them or the Council... and yet he could tell something was up with Zaitra in particular, and he was going to get to the bottom of it in one way or the other.

"But how...?" he muttered. No Angel would ever dare say something negative about the Ophanims, whether it was out of fear or respect... so there was no way anyone would help him investigate their current plans for Heaven.

Since he couldn't investigate the present then maybe... he should've investigated the past? Then he'd have to find someone who knew a lot about the Council, and who also didn't have any ties to it any longer...

"Zachary..." he said to himself. Zachary was the first fallen Angel, the one who prompted the council to drastically change certain rules in Heaven so that any uprising would be stopped before it could even start. If there was anyone who would've been willing to talk about the Council it would've been him. he just had to find him.

"Let's see..." Michael mumbled, doing a sign with his hands and summoning a light ring. "Bring me to Zachary" he ordered, tossing the ring down; it then began to move towards a specific direction and Michael followed it across galaxies and planets, leading him to planet Earth. Then, slowly, it approached the same town where Ezekiel had been exiled, which got the Seraphim rather surprised, that was definitely a convenient coincidence.

Once he finally flew down on the streets it was night already. He quickly changed into his human disguise and concealed his halo and wings and then made his way into the building where Zachary supposedly was.

"The... Golden Droplet?" Michael muttered, looking up at the neon sign flashing on and off. He had a bad feeling about it.

He stepped down the stairs, immediately being thrown into the human past, loud 80's music playing out of the speakers and furniture inspired by that era, which he couldn't help but find tacky.

A lone man was sitting at a table, waiting for his order, when suddenly, he turned around, looking straight at the Seraphim. His irises were completely white and devoid of expression "I could recognize the aura of the Holy Sword's wielder a mile away... what brings you here, Michael?"

Michael froze, that man knew his name, and he talked about the Holy Sword... "Zachary... is it truly you? What... what in the world happened?!" he said in complete shock. He was very young when Zachary was still around, but he remembered him clearly... he took care of his looks in an almost obsessive way, he was lean and muscular, his hair was always slicked back and his robes always were of the purest white... and now he was the polar opposite. His white, greasy hair had grown past his shoulders, he had a scruffy beard, he wore raggedy, ill-fitting clothes and his body had grown softer, especially around his belly, which visibly spilled onto his lap and poked out of his shirt.