"A very admirable goal, born of justice." Metatron's tone revealed neither approval nor disapproval. "But what do you intend to rely on?"
"Your remaining strength, along with those wounded young angels outside? Uriel has absorbed Raphael's legacy, seized control of at least a third of Heaven's arsenal, and won the support of all those fence-sitters. If you confront him head-on, your chances are slim."
The words were like icy water poured over Castiel's already heavy heart.
"Then what do you suggest? That we stand by and watch him begin his Apocalypse rehearsal?"
"Of course not." Metatron turned and slowly walked to a long table piled with scrolls, his fingers lightly brushing across those ancient vessels of knowledge. "Violent confrontation will only deepen the rift and spill more blood."
There was weariness and sorrow in his voice.
"Heaven has already shed too much blood. We need a... gentler, more thorough solution. A way to make every faction, regardless of its position, sit down and reexamine the current situation."
He raised his eyes to Castiel. "Do you know of the Angel Trial?"
Castiel frowned.
The term sounded familiar. He seemed to have seen it in some obscure corner of an extremely ancient text, but the details were vague.
"Is it... some kind of test left behind by God?"
"More than a test." Metatron lowered his voice, bearing the solemnity of someone revealing a secret. "It is the final safeguard God set in place before He left. When Heaven falls into irreconcilable internal conflict, when violence and chaos are about to destroy this sacred creation, the Angel Trial will be activated."
"The angel who completes the trial will gain the authority to temporarily close the Gates of Heaven."
Close the Gates of Heaven?
Castiel's pupils contracted.
That would mean severing Heaven's direct connection