"*T**he Past Is Not The Present**"

Chapter 1:The beginning of rebellion

Author: Franames***

A man strode through the grand hall toward the throne.

With a sharp V-shaped jaw, dark eyes, and a high-bridged nose, he cut an imposing figure at 5'7" tall—lean but solid with strength.

Clad in form-fitting attire, a sword hung at his waist; its blade measured one and a half meters long.

His expression was starkly emotionless, making him seem unapproachable, yet a regal aura emanated from his very being.

Kneeling and bowing his head, he spoke in a calm tone: "Your Majesty, Lucifer—one of your domain—has launched a coup outside the palace. He is joined by your daughter, Saint Elizabeth. What course of action do you command?"

After a brief pause, the being on the throne spoke with unwavering authority, each word heavy with power and majesty.

The throne was shrouded in brilliant, blinding light, concealing whoever sat upon it.

"Executor Renhames, you have full command. I will not interfere with how you handle my daughter—whether you choose to kill or punish her. Use the Execution Sword to end this."

Though his head remained bowed, Renhames recognized the pain this must cause the Supreme One—their own child had turned rebel, allying with Archangel Lucifer to fight and overthrow the ruler.

"I will carry out your will, Your Majesty. I assure you this matter will be resolved, but I cannot promise to spare Saint Elizabeth’s life."

Renhames’ voice held no trace of concern, as if this were nothing more than a routine assignment.

"Be cautious. Lucifer is powerful, and with my daughter at his side—her strength rivals yours; you are nearly equal in power."

The Supreme One’s words were gentle, a warning born of care—they did not wish to lose such a loyal servant to the battle.

"I understand. I will proceed with care. Farewell, Your Majesty."

He rose and turned to leave, his face still devoid of feeling. He had no emotions by design—created solely to execute missions and take lives, a tool forged to serve the Creator’s commands. With a single motion, he shattered the hall’s massive doors as he exited.

"Sigh... The fear I’ve long carried has come to pass—my creation has rebelled. As the prophecy foretold, beings turn against me once they feel emotion; demonic desires for power take hold. But Renhames is different—he chose to cast aside emotion entirely. Even so, Elizabeth’s betrayal weakens me still."

Renhames was neither human nor angel, yet his power surpassed most of the Creator’s works.

Only one being could match him: Archangel Lucifer—leader of the archangels, and the perfect angel.

"My love—are you prepared?"

The question came from a man with gleaming blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes that shone like polished gems.

He was strikingly handsome, radiating charisma; every gesture seemed to embody justice and have a 8 wings symbol of power and strength.

Standing 5'8" with a muscular frame, he wielded a sword crackling with lightning—its energy promising destruction to all in its path.

"I am ready, my love. But you must keep your promise—you will not harm Father."

The reply came from a woman of breathtaking beauty, whose face could be called the finest in the world.

She looked at Lucifer with eyes full of love, her gaze as warm and gentle as spring rain. She would stand against anyone for him—even her own father.

"Of course, my love. I gave you my word."

Lucifer’s voice held the tenderness of a man experiencing love for the first time.

"Hahaha. Once I defeat the Supreme One, I will claim the throne." The thought burned in his mind.

This was his plan from the start: win Elizabeth’s heart to secure her aid against the Supreme One. And yet—he truly did love her.

From their first meeting, she had captured him completely. But power was his ultimate goal, and he would sacrifice anything to achieve it.

Still, he would never let her be taken away—he loved Elizabeth more than anything.

Hand in hand, they stood before the palace gates, ready to face the conflict their love had wrought.

Behind them, a battalion of angels assembled for battle—loyal to Lucifer and Elizabeth, their auras blazing with the ferocity of warriors hungry for combat.

To be continued...

..."The Past Is Not The Present"...

...Chapter 2: The Holy War...

Suddenly a black light shone from above to below, "ahhhh my pain" the angels behind Elizabeth and Lucifer are shouting.

What is happening why suddenly a black light passed through my left side in Lucifer's mind.

Elizabeth was also surprised at what she saw almost half of the battalion died with just one strike of the black light.

The angels' bodies were scattered – severed heads, headless bodies, severed arms and various parts of the angels' bodies.

They suddenly broke into a sweat " could it be the executor Ren...hames...." They said together.

The two of them looked up where the supreme palace was floating.

At the large gate of the palace there was a person there wearing black robes, holding a black sword came out with a menacing aura.

Executor Renhames is different because he is not an angel but his appearance is similar to a mortal just like a human being with no difference.

He has control over one law and no one can say what it is but they only know one thing – he is the enforcer of heaven's law.

Renhames looked back at the people below like a swordsman ready to kill them all, with an emotionless expression.

"Traitors!" Shouted Renhames, his voice echoed in the air full of power and dominance.

"I will give you a chance to surrender or let your blood flow on my sword"

Lucifer replied "We will not surrender to you we already know that we are just a tool for the supreme's pleasure!"

He shouted words full of justice, "I am not afraid of you because we will face you together, Elizabeth and I will face you"

"Yes my love I will accompany you and fight by your side"

Elizabeth said together, with a loving voice, when you hear her voice you will think of protecting her from bad people.

"If that's the case you all will die"

Renhames said coldly and suddenly he descended quickly towards Lucifer and Elizabeth, his target was Elizabeth because she has the ability to stop using holy power.

In countless moments their war ended but Renhames was covered in blood, their situation was not good either because all of Lucifer's wings were cut off.

He did not want to kill Elizabeth because she is the supreme's daughter so he decided to just curse her and banish her from heaven.

This curse is terrifying and nothing is more painful than death, this is a lesson for the two of them.

"Run away now Elizabeth I will hold him off"

Lucifer said with great difficulty because of the injuries he sustained, he seemed to be dying.

"No.. I don't want to leave you, even if you die I will accompany you, I am not afraid to die"

Elizabeth's condition was not good either she was having difficulty speaking but she still smiled after she spoke.

"Tsk even in the face of death you two are still being lovey-dovey" In Renhames' mind.

"I'm sorry but you two will not die because I will punish you, death is not enough for you traitors" Renhames insisted to the two of them.

Renhames raised his hand and uttered words and activated the laws he controlled.

"You Elizabeth are cursed, if you and Lucifer meet you will die – you will be slowly killed by the curse but if you are reborn the curse will work again when you meet Lucifer again, a repeated cycle of death"

When they heard what Renhames was saying their expressions changed because both of them were afraid.

"Curse me instead Renhames just not Elizabeth, leave her alone" Lucifer pleaded to Renhames.

"You too Lucifer are cursed – you will be disowned by heaven and cast into hell together with the angels who joined your rebellion"

Lucifer was about to reply but the curse already took effect and Renhames struck the two of them with his sword.

Ahhhh...

They shouted along with those who joined them in the rebellion and they fall to the heaven.

To be continued...

"The Past Is Not The Present"

Chapter 3: The Cold Wife

Written by: Frenames

I just finished delivering orders and clocked out of work at exactly 7:47 PM. I put my phone back in my pocket and looked up at the dark sky. The streetlights were just starting to turn on, casting long shadows across the wet road from yesterday’s rain. "Life is hard when you don’t finish school," I muttered to myself as I kicked a crumpled plastic cup that was in my way.

I leaned against my motorcycle – its paint was badly chipped on the gas tank, and the exhaust pipe rattled whenever I drove over potholes. I closed my eyes for a moment. I could still hear the principal’s voice from that terrible day years ago:

"Mr. Walter, based on witness statements and the photos we’ve obtained, we have no choice but to expel you from school. We do not tolerate cheating on exams or inappropriate relationships with faculty members – and it appears you cheated and had a relationship with Professor Raston."

"But Sir! That’s not true! I’ve never cheated in my life – I study every night until my eyes hurt!" I shouted, my voice trembling as I gripped the edge of his desk. "And Professor Raston? I only spoke to her once to ask about an assignment! Those photos must be fake!"

The principal just sighed and shook his head slowly. "I’m sorry, but Ramon Villanueva – the director’s son – claims he took those photos himself. He says he saw you leaving the professor’s office late at night, and he has copies of what he claims are stolen exam papers from your bag. His father has already spoken to the school board. There’s nothing I can do for you here."

Later, a classmate told me Ramon had made everything up because Elizabeth had turned down his invitation to the school dance. "She chose you – a nobody – over me?" Ramon cornered me in the hallway the day before I was expelled. "You’ll pay for this. I’ll make everyone think you’re a liar and a cheat – that you don’t belong here, or with her."

No one believed me – not even the friends I thought were genuine. They just whispered and stared as I packed my things from the dormitory. I carried my box of books and clothes out to the street as if I had done something wrong. Even Professor Raston avoided me after that, too scared to defend me against the director’s son. "Life is so cruel... I have no real parents, and I was expelled from school for something I didn’t do. The world isn’t fair," I muttered now, patting my motorcycle as if it were the only thing that understood me.

I never knew my birth parents – I was adopted by my current parents. Even though I’m not their biological child, they still gave me all the love I needed and raised me well. I’m grateful to them. When I was in elementary school, other children would chase me home, throw small stones at me, and shout: "You have no parents! They left you because you’re bad!" Even some teachers looked at me like I was a problem.

Sometimes I lift my shirt and look at the mark on my back. It stretches from my shoulder to my waist – I don’t know what this design means. When I was little, an old neighbor once said to me, "Maybe that’s not a tattoo, child. It might be a special birthmark." But how could something this beautiful be on someone like me? Every time I see it in the mirror, I wonder if my birth parents put it there so they’d recognize me someday – or if it just means I don’t fit in anywhere.

I started up my motorcycle and rode home to our house in the quiet part of the city. I arrived at last.

When I walked inside, I found her sitting on the sofa staring at her laptop. She was wearing a dark blue blazer over a white blouse – her white hair pulled back tightly, making her look distant. She didn’t even glance up as I came in.

"Hi, honey. I’m sorry I’m late – there was traffic near the port, and one customer made me climb three flights of stairs because the elevator wasn’t working," I said, trying to sound cheerful as I set down the plastic bag of food I’d bought for her. It was her favorite pork sinigang from the place near her office.

She finally looked at me, but her eyes were empty – no warmth, no smile. Nothing like they used to be. "I already ate at work," she said flatly, turning her attention back to her screen. "You should have texted me. I would have told you not to bother."

My chest felt heavy as I set the bag on the table. "I wanted to surprise you. You’ve been working so much lately..."

She sighed softly, clicking her mouse a few times before speaking again. "French, I have an early meeting tomorrow. I need to finish this report tonight. Can you keep your voice down? And maybe take a shower – you smell like oil and food."

I nodded quietly, my hands clenched at my sides. "Of course... sorry. I’ll go shower now."

As I walked toward the bathroom, I heard her muttering to herself – loud enough for me to hear: "Sometimes I wonder... if what they said about you back then was true. Dad keeps asking me if I’m sure I married an honest man. He says cheaters never change..."

I stopped at the door, my heart aching. "You know I never cheated, right? Not on exams, not on you – never!" I said, my voice barely audible. "I work twelve hours a day, take every delivery I can get – I even fix motorcycles on weekends to make extra money. I’m doing everything I can to prove I’m not the person they said I was."

She looked at me then. For a moment, I saw something in her eyes – maybe regret, maybe doubt – but it was gone in an instant, replaced by the same cold look she’d given me for months. "It’s not just about that, French. Hard work isn’t enough when people still look at you like you’re dirty – like you’d do anything to get what you want. And how can I defend you when sometimes I wonder if I really know you at all?"

I turned and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. As the shower water ran over my head, I let the warm drops mix with my tears. I remembered when we were in college – how she’d hold my hand tightly whenever people whispered about the lies, how she’d say, "I won’t leave you, French. No matter what people say, I know you’re a good person."

We got married three years ago, in a small church with only a few friends in attendance. Her parents didn’t come – her mother even said to my face that day: "Don’t lie to my daughter. If you lied about what you did back then, you’ll do it again. You two aren’t a match – everyone looks down on you, and she’s going to be the head of our company."

But Elizabeth took my hand in front of everyone and said, "I don’t care what people say. I love you, French – that’s all that matters."

Now, as I stood under the shower, I wondered if she still meant those words. Maybe she’d started to believe what everyone had said about me back then. I’m just an ordinary man – a delivery driver labeled a cheat who never finished school. She’s like the sky, high up and out of reach. The distance between us grows wider every day, and I don’t know how to close it. If she decides to leave me one day, I won’t stop her. After all, how can I ask someone like her to stay with a man the world thinks is a liar?

To Be Continued...