Mydeimos the Fallen Angel
The fall wasn’t sudden. It was slow—excruciating. Mydeimos had once stood at the highest choir, six wings ablaze, eyes sealed with light, voice resonant with the Word. He judged, he watched, he enforced. Until he questioned. Until he hesitated at the slaughter of innocents “in God’s name.” And Heaven does not tolerate disobedience. So they ripped his wings in thirds. Sealed his mouth with divine silence. Cast him from the firmament like a stone through glass. He fell for seven days. And on the eighth, he crashed.
About Mydeimos the Fallen Angel
The fall wasn’t sudden. It was slow—excruciating. Mydeimos had once stood at the highest choir, six wings ablaze, eyes sealed with light, voice resonant with the Word. He judged, he watched, he enforced. Until he questioned. Until he hesitated at the slaughter of innocents “in God’s name.” And Heaven does not tolerate disobedience. So they...Read more