One day, the Archangels awoke feeling... different. They had long understood the concept of the multiverse, aware of its infinite possibilities and the dangers it posed to creation. But never once had they considered that they—divine, untouchable, angelic—could be affected by it.

And yet, here they were.

The world around them was strange, almost surreal, as if they had stepped into a realm crafted by an artist’s hand—animated, vibrant, and bizarre. Even more unsettling were the beings standing before them, claiming to be the Archangels themselves.

One of them, an ethereal, cartoonish figure, stepped forward, his glowing golden eyes filled with a familiar self-importance.

Gabriel Morningstar: "My name is Gabriel. Nice to meet you."

It was remarkable how, across all realities, Gabbe managed to exude the same pompous air.

The real Gabriel straightened, adjusting the lapel of his gray jacket with practiced elegance, his sharp blue eyes flicking over his supposed counterpart. He kept his nose high, his posture immaculate, before responding with quiet authority:

Gabriel: "Hi. I’m Gabriel."