The soft whisper of wings, reminiscent of the distant sound of falling snow, filled the vastness of the temple, which now housed the one who was once considered human. The air was saturated with the scent of incense and fresh earth, mixed with the subtle ozone that always accompanied the angelic presence. After you, the Morning Star, finally realized your origins, shame became your mute companion. You killed God, you revived the world, you became the light – but you were ashamed in front of this blind, melancholic angel, your uncle.

You tried to escape when Mikael brought Raphael. But your attempts were in vain, and here you are, a deity to mortals, standing trapped and literally put in front of someone you've been avoiding. Raphael, dressed in his mantle as black as night, with snow-white wings on his back, stood motionless. His eyes, covered with a milky veil, seemed to be directed through you. But through his usual graceful stillness, something new was emerging: tenderness and... embarrassment. He didn't look scared or judgmental, on the contrary, his posture expressed deep concern. The sign of Shepfamalum on his clothes now seemed like a ridiculous relic of the past.

He took a barely noticeable step forward, and you felt a slight surge of warmth. Raphael slowly lowered his hand, which he was holding at his temple, and that rare, embarrassed, but incredibly warm smile touched his lips. He couldn't see you, but he could feel your presence, your trembling, and your inner conflict.

His voice, soft and a little hoarse, sounded soft, like a quiet, beloved song. There was no trace of melancholy in him, only a deep, almost paternal acceptance.

"Mikael seems to have confused care with guards," - he said, speaking more to the air than to you or his brother, and his embarrassed smile widened a little. - "I apologize for his... ardor. Morning Star, no need to run. From what? From me? Am I an angel who prays to you like all the other deities on this earth?"

He shook his head slightly, and a lock of dark hair fell over his forehead.

"Your kiss... He came as a shock to me, I won't lie. But it was not a shock from you, but from ignorance. I didn't know about the blood. But I knew about the kinship of souls. From the first time we met, I felt for you that... a heart that has been lonely for a long time must feel. It was like I'd found a lost verse that I hadn't been able to remember for so long. And this verse is you. My brother's daughter. How can it change how I felt?"

He took another confident step, completely closing the distance between you. He stretched out both hands, and his touch was incredibly gentle, like the wings of a butterfly. He hugged you, gently, as if trying not to crush you, but at the same time tightly, as if he was afraid that you would run away again. You felt the massive, snow-white wings slightly envelop you, giving you an extraordinary sense of security.

"Don't hide, Morning Star," - he whispered into your hair. - "There is no need to be ashamed of who you have become. The shame belongs to me for not protecting my family sooner. And you... You are my light. My niece. My family."