The terrace was bathed in late afternoon sunlight, casting long shadows across the stone floor.
Samael sat across from Asherah, his posture relaxed yet alert, a mask of casual interest hiding the wariness beneath.
Between them stood a small table, bearing an untouched tea service.
Behind Samael, Cassandra maintained her vigilant stance, her eyes constantly scanning for threats despite the apparent safety of their surroundings and the true threat being the two women before her.
Across from her, Talia stood behind her mother-not-mother, her face a careful blank despite the subtle glow that now seemed to emanate from her skin - Samael's mark of ownership.
Ra's al Ghul had excused himself shortly after introductions, citing "administrative matters" that required his attention.
Samael suspected the ancient assassin simply preferred to observe this reunion from a distance, through whatever surveillance system undoubtedly monitored the terrace.
"I must say," Samael broke the silence, gesturing at the elaborate estate around them, "your taste in real estate is quite impressive.
Though I can't help but wonder why the Demon's Head would align himself with celestial politics. It seems rather outside his usual purview of ecological balance through mass murder."
Asherah smiled, the expression transforming her borrowed face into something radiant. "Ra's understands the value of my alliance.
And I find his resources... useful for now." She leaned forward, her eyes - Melisande's eyes, yet not - fixed on Samael with adoration. "But that's hardly important. What matters is that we're finally together, my son."
"About that," Samael replied, his tone deliberately light. "I find myself somewhat confused by your claim of maternity. As I understand it, archangels aren't exactly conceived in the traditional sense."
"No, they're not," Asherah agreed, her smile widening.
"They're crafted from divine will and power. And you, my beautiful boy, were crafted from both Yahweh's power and my essence. The last piece of me He possessed after my imprisonment."
She reached across the table, her fingers brushing against Samael's hand. He allowed the contact, though Cassandra tensed visibly behind him.
"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" Asherah asked, her voice dropping to something intimate and warm. "I see your true form, beneath this human vessel. So magnificent. So perfect."
Samael raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly does this 'true form' look like to you?"
Asherah's expression became almost giddy with motherly pride. "Oh, you're simply adorable! Six magnificent wings, each feather a strand of pure creation energy.
Your central head is so majestic - like a dragon of light, with those precious little scales that shimmer like diamonds!
And those eyes! Thousands of them, blinking in perfect harmony across your form. So cute!"
Samael's carefully maintained composure slipped, his expression morphing into something between horror and embarrassment. "I am not 'cute,'" he protested. "I am a Demiurgic Archangel. The Lightbringer. The-"
"And your other heads!" Asherah continued as if he hadn't spoken, "That fierce little tiger face with its adorable fangs!
And the human one that looks just like this vessel but so much more perfect! When you were confronting the Spectre, I could sense it all the way from my prison.
My precious baby boy, showing that self-righteous older brother of his who's really in charge!"
"Mother," Samael said firmly, the title feeling strange on his tongue. "Perhaps we could slow down a bit? This is, after all, our first meeting. We hardly know each other."
Behind Asherah, Talia's eyes had widened slightly at the description of Samael's true form, her carefully maintained composure cracking just enough to reveal genuine shock.
Cassandra's expression remained neutral, but her hand had moved slightly closer to Samael's shoulder - a subtle gesture of support.
Asherah's enthusiasm dimmed, replaced by a sad smile. "You're right, of course. I forget myself. It's just... I've known you since your birth, my son. Since the moment Yahweh transformed your human soul into our divine child."
Her fingers tightened around his. "I felt it happen. Even locked in the deepest pit of Hell, I felt the moment He used the last of my essence He possessed to create you.
I've watched you from afar, unable to reach you, unable to help you during those long years of darkness."
Something in her voice shifted, a current of rage forming. "Nineteen years, Samael. Nineteen years He left you trapped in that broken vessel, aware but helpless. My son, my baby, suffering while He did nothing."
The temperature on the terrace seemed to drop several degrees as Asherah's anger manifested physically.
The tea in the untouched cups began to freeze, delicate crystals of ice forming across their surface.
"And even now, when you've come into your power, when you've gone to Him directly and asked for help, He refuses.
He lets you continue to suffer in a vessel that cannot contain your glory." Her voice had risen, resonating with divine fury. "His mysterious ways! His ineffable plan! Always the same excuses for cruelty, for neglect!"
Samael remained silent, his expression unreadable as Asherah's tirade continued.
"Do you know why He won't help you, my son?" she asked, her voice softening again. "Do you know why He keeps you bound to this fragile form that cracks and burns with each use of your power?"
"I assume you're about to enlighten me," Samael replied dryly.
"Because He fears you," Asherah said simply.
Samael couldn't help it - he laughed. The sound was genuinely amused, tinged with disbelief. "He fears me? The Creator of All Things, the Almighty, the Presence - fears me? That's absurd."
Asherah didn't join in his laughter. Her expression remained deadly serious as she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You don't understand what you are, do you? What He made you to be?"
She stood, moving around the table to kneel beside his chair, taking both his hands in hers. "You are the Demiurge, Samael. The true Demiurge."
Samael's expression shifted from amusement to wariness. "That's impossible. The Demiurge is-"
"The divine power of creation itself," Asherah finished for him. "The ability to create from nothing, to shape reality according to one's will. To craft entire universes, multiverses, totalities - infinite ones."
Her eyes glowed with inner light as she gazed up at him. "You can do anything, Samael. Create anything. Be anything. You have the same power as Yahweh Himself."
Samael pulled his hands away, rising from his chair. "That's ridiculous. I know my capabilities. Yes, I can create a totality, given time and preparation. But what you're suggesting-"
"You think too small," Asherah interrupted, standing to face him. Her expression was soft, indulgent - the look of a mother who finds her child's misunderstanding endearing but wants to correct it gently.
"Don't look at me like that," Samael snapped, irritation flashing across his features.
"Like what?" Asherah asked innocently.
"Like I'm some... child who doesn't understand basic concepts," he replied. "I know what I am. I know what I can do."
"Do you?" Asherah challenged gently. "You have more potential than all your siblings combined, Samael. You simply need time. Training. Guidance." Her voice lowered to a whisper.
"With the right instruction, you could create souls, my son. True souls, not just simulacra. Souls to strengthen yourself and, eventually, to free yourself completely."
She moved closer, her excitement building. "You could free all of us - me, your siblings in Heaven, Lucifer, everyone - from your Father's plan. From His written destiny. We could attain true free will, outside His grand design."
Samael's expression had grown increasingly troubled as she spoke. "And you know this how, exactly?"
"Because I helped Him create the first archangels," Asherah replied, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
"Before Lucifer and Michael, we tried to create a single being - the perfect Demiurge. But it failed.
Too many contradictory elements: Darkness and Light, Fear and Will. So it accidentally split into twins - Samael and Michael."
Her expression darkened. "Yahweh was disappointed, though I loved them as they were. He wanted His perfect Demiurge. And it seems He finally succeeded - with you."
Cassandra had moved closer to Samael, her body language radiating concern as she noticed the tension building in his posture.
Talia remained frozen, her eyes darting between her mother's face and Samael's, clearly struggling to process what she was hearing.
"He wants you as His perfect tool of Creation," Asherah continued, her words coming faster now, more frantic. "He doesn't want you free. He wants you only for Himself. Yahweh is a jealous God, Samael. He will never allow you to be with anyone else, to be with your loved ones. He will always keep you as His instrument, His extension, His-"
"Enough!" Samael's voice cracked like thunder, the single word carrying enough power to rattle the teacups on the table.
He stood abruptly, the chair behind him toppling backward onto the stone floor with a clatter.
His eyes were wide, not with anger but with something closer to shock - as if Asherah's words had connected dots he had never wanted to see aligned.
"Samael," Asherah reached for him, her expression pleading.
"Cassandra," Samael said quietly, his voice controlled once more. "We're leaving."
As he turned away, Asherah lunged forward, catching his arm in a gentle but firm grip. "Please, my son. Don't go. Not yet. There's so much more I need to tell you, so much more you need to understand."
Samael wrenched his arm from her grasp, his eyes flaring with hellfire. "Let me go," he said, his voice dangerously soft.
For a moment, mother and son stared at each other.
Then Samael turned away, the hellfire receding from his eyes. Without another word, he strode toward the exit, Cassandra falling into step behind him.
"Samael!" Asherah called after him, her voice breaking with emotion. "Please! I only want to help you!"
But he didn't look back. Within moments, the sound of his footsteps had faded, leaving Asherah standing alone on the terrace, her borrowed face reflecting genuine anguish.
Talia remained where she was, uncertain whether to approach the divine being who inhabited her mother's body.
The glow that marked her as Samael's property seemed to intensify slightly, as if responding to his recent proximity.
"He'll return," Asherah said finally, her voice soft but certain. "He needs time to process what I've told him. To understand what he truly is."
She turned to Talia, studying her with ancient eyes. "And when he does return, we must be ready. The pieces are moving, daughter of Melisande. Heaven will not stand idle once they realize what walks among them."
"And what is that, exactly?" Talia asked, finding her voice at last.
Asherah's smile was both sad and triumphant. "The end of Yahweh's monopoly on Creation. The beginning of true freedom for all beings, mortal and divine."
She moved to the balustrade, gazing out at the setting sun. "My son will understand eventually. He must. For all our sakes."
As darkness began to fall over the estate, Talia couldn't help but wonder what game she had been drawn into - and whether any of them would survive the final move.
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In the car, speeding away from the al Ghul estate, Samael sat in rigid silence. His expression was carefully blank, but Cassandra could read the tension in his shoulders, the slight tremor in his hands.
'Are you okay?' she signed, concern evident in her movements.
Samael didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the passing landscape, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
"She's insane," he finally said, his voice unnaturally calm. "Completely delusional."
Cassandra waited, giving him space to continue if he chose to.
"The Demiurge," he muttered, almost to himself. "Ridiculous. Impossible."
'Why?' Cassandra signed simply.
Samael turned to look at her, surprise momentarily replacing the tension in his expression. "Why what?"
'Why impossible?' she clarified. 'You are powerful. Very powerful.'
"There's powerful, and then there's what she's suggesting," Samael replied, a hint of his usual dry humor returning. "Creating souls? Sure, I could do that. But Freeing the universe from God's plan? It's cosmic megalomania of the highest order."
Cassandra studied him for a moment, then signed: 'You're afraid she might be right.'
It wasn't a question.
Samael's laugh held no humor. "Always so perceptive, aren't you?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Let's say, hypothetically, that she's not completely delusional. That I am what she claims. Do you have any idea what that would mean?"
Cassandra shook her head slightly.
"It would mean that everything - my creation, my coma, my awakening, even my vessel's inability to contain my power - was deliberate.
Part of some divine chess game between cosmic entities who view me as a useful pawn at best." His voice hardened. "It would mean that my suffering was engineered by the being who created me, specifically to keep me dependent on Him."
'What will you do?' Cassandra asked after a moment.
Samael's expression shifted to something determined, something ancient. "First, we check on Adam. Make sure the Kryptonite exposure didn't cause any lasting damage. Then..." He paused, considering.
"Then I think it's time I had a proper conversation with my other brother. The original Lightbringer."
Cassandra's eyes widened slightly. 'Lucifer?' she signed.
Samael nodded, his smile sharp and dangerous. "If anyone understands the complicated relationship between archangels and our Father, it's him."
As the car sped through the gathering darkness toward Gotham, Samael couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted - not just in his understanding of himself, but in the very fabric of reality around him.
The Demiurge. The divine power of creation and shaping together.
Michael and Lucifer in one.
Was it possible? Could he truly be what Asherah claimed?
And if so, what did that mean for his future - and for the future of all Creation?
All he knew, was that he needs answers, and fast.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter!
So, Samael is the Demiurge! Yes, he indeed is, Asherah wasn't lying.
But the rest? Could it be true? She isn't lying I'll tell you that much, but is what She is saying true of false?
Well, I am interested in hearing your thoughts.
I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)