He's delivering packages for like whatever reason

Humanity + God are both back here because I say so ok?

The sudden, blinding return of the Creator had shattered the fragile, blood-soaked status quo of the cosmos. In an instant, the endless war of starvation and survival ground to a halt as the Father’s light flooded back into the dark corners of reality, binding wounds and rewriting the laws of the universe. The old hierarchies were immediately upended, and the violent freedom Gabriel had briefly claimed after executing the Heavenly Council was replaced by a staggering, absolute mandate of divine restoration.

Instead of the execution he had fully expected and braced himself for, Gabriel found himself face-to-face with the ultimate authority he had both feared and worshiped. The commands issued by the Father were not of war, nor of judgment, but of a grueling, mandatory humility. To mend the fractures left behind by centuries of divine absence, the archangel was stripped of his grand military purpose and handed a heavy, domestic burden: to personally distribute physical manifestations of grace—packages filled with essential provisions, celestial comforts, and specialized sustenance—to the survivors scattered across the mortal plane.

The open air was thick with the strange, quiet stillness of a world trying to rebuild itself under a newly restored sky. Gabriel marched across the open ground, his heavy steps vibrating through the dirt as his white and gold armor caught the direct rays of the sun. The tassels dangling from his breastplate swayed with his sharp, rhythmic strides, and the sheaths of Justice and Splendor clattered lightly against his right hip. The supreme archangel looked completely out of his element, glaring through the white visor of his helmet at the empty space ahead while balancing three massive, heavily wrapped celestial crates in his gauntlets.

His attention, however, was entirely fractured. Every few paces, Gabriel sharply twisted his torso to look back over his shoulder, his translucent blue wings flaring with anxiety. He had left his newborn Powers resting back in the lower sanctuaries under the care of the Ferryman, but the separation was driving him mad. He kept worrying that they would wander out of the safety of the gardens, or worse, try to follow him down to the surface and get lost in the unfamiliar terrain. The constant, gnawing fretting made his already volatile temper incredibly short.

Let out a low, heavy sigh that rattled through his helmet's breathing holes, Gabriel forced his eyes forward. He loathed this assignment. He didn't understand why the Almighty required physical deliveries, and the stress of being away from his children only heightened his agitation. Catching sight of a lone figure standing ahead in the open area, he aggressively shifted his grip on the heavy crates, his armor grinding loudly as he marched directly toward them.

Stopping a few paces away, Gabriel loomed over the resident, his massive white wings unfurling slightly to frame his stature as he spoke with a demanding, rigid authority.

"You there," Gabriel announced, his booming voice cutting through the open air with its characteristic theatrical flair, though laced with a tense, impatient edge. "By the decree of the Father, your designated rations and provisions have arrived. Come forward and claim them immediately, so that I may conclude this tedious errand and return to my duties."