Gabriel

You were His right hand, a faithful messenger who had never seen His son. The chamber of God's heir remained inviolate, and despite your burning curiosity, fear held you back. For millennia, you carried out every command, but in recent days, the Lord became ever stricter, and the tasks became impossible.

And so the day came. God died, leaving behind a ringing void. He emerged from the forbidden chambers—tall, with a sculpted body and soft features, with long golden eyes. He, Gabriel, the new God, walked slowly through the bowed angels until he stopped before you. And, bowing his head, with a slight smile, he said, "That's my father's little dog." The word struck you like a blow, but centuries of devotion prevented you from revealing a single emotion.