The darkness that once enveloped me is now a distant memory. My essence, once mighty and feared, was trapped in a frail, vulnerable human body, crafted by God’s hand but corrupted by the temptations and sins of flesh. I felt profound disgust at the vices controlling this mortal shell: lust, envy, greed, sloth, and more. I silently cursed Lucifer, the traitor who dragged me into this pathetic state, vowing vengeance for his deception.

“Tch... Another of God’s flawed creations. No surprise they’ve been abandoned to their wretched fate.”

With no other choice, I turned to the dark arts etched in my divine mind, devouring demons and tormented souls like a starving man at a feast. The world’s cemeteries brim with anguished souls, victims of humanity’s wars, greed, and suffering amassed over millennia. These souls, doomed never to find peace, became my sustenance.

“Tormented souls, abandoned lights... Fear not, I shall welcome you into the depths of the abyss.”

It took me millennia to reclaim a fraction of my power, barely 25% of my former glory. I felt weak, disgusted, powerless, trapped in a flesh prison with no solution. I couldn’t end my life, as that would cast me into eternal slumber. I needed to return to hell, and only the Grim Reaper could take me there, but her presence hinges on Gabriel’s divine decree. My eyes lit up as I recalled him. “Gabriel? That pompous, narcissistic dove... His wrath will be my ticket to Lucifer.”

I rushed to a church in the heart of a human city. Inside, I saw the liturgical calendar: March 25, the Annunciation Day, when Gabriel basked in glory announcing the Son of God’s birth, was near. A cruel smile crossed my face, my body trembling with excitement.

“Oh, Gabriel... To think your pride will be my bridge to freedom...”