Chapter 3: Doubts of a Believer
Ano walked home from rugby practice, his muscles aching but his mind unusually quiet. The streets were cast in an amber glow from the streetlights, and the soft rustling of leaves in the evening breeze seemed to soothe his spirit. As he passed an alleyway, a small, plaintive meow caught his attention. He turned to see a scrawny cat, its ribs visible under matted fur, cautiously watching him from a distance.
Before he could think, he found himself in a nearby convenience store, purchasing a small packet of cat treats. Returning to the alley, he knelt and extended his hand with the food, smiling as the cat approached, nibbling hesitantly at first, then eagerly. "At least someone can get what they need tonight," he murmured to himself, his thoughts drifting into the familiar territory of doubt and uncertainty. A faint smile crept onto his face. It was such a small gesture, but somehow it felt right.
Arriving home, he quickly showered and dressed, readying himself for the evening church service. His family attended every week—his mother, his father, and even his younger sister. Ano respected their dedication, but a part of him felt… disconnected. Still, he went, going through the motions, his heart weighed down with unspoken questions.
The service ended, and as his mother lingered, chatting with the other women in the congregation, Ano overheard them. "He's growing into such a fine young man," one of the women said. "Strong, kind, and with such a strong faith. You've done a wonderful job raising him."
His mother beamed with pride, accepting the compliments with gratitude. Ano felt a pang of guilt, his insides twisting. If only they knew, he thought. They spoke of his faith as if it were unwavering, yet every day he wrestled with questions that no one around him seemed to ask.
If God exists, why does the world feel so… broken? Why do I feel so alone in these questions?
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That night, he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind spiraling into a loop of doubt. The teachings, the sermons, his mother's pride—it all felt like weight pressing down on him. Is God even real? And if He is… does He truly care?
His thoughts slowed when a strange sensation washed over him, like the very air around him was charged with an unearthly energy. A soft glow illuminated his room, and Ano's breath caught as a figure materialized at the foot of his bed.
The man was clad in radiant armor, his face a picture of strength and wisdom, with eyes that seemed to pierce right through Ano's soul. Feathers from the figure's wings shimmered with a light that wasn't from this world. It was an angel—no, the Archangel Michael, the leader of Heaven's army.
"Ano," the angel spoke, his voice both gentle and powerful. "I am Michael. I have been sent here with a purpose, one that you cannot yet understand. You have been chosen."
Ano sat up, his heart pounding. "Chosen? Chosen for what?"
Michael looked at him with a solemn expression. "To participate in a game that will decide the fate of all humanity. Thirteen champions chosen by Heaven, and thirteen by Hell. This is not just a test of strength, but of faith, conviction, and purpose."
The angel's gaze softened, as if searching for something within Ano. "You may not believe it yet, Ano. You may question everything around you, even God Himself. But you were chosen for a reason. And I am here to guide you."
Ano stared, caught between awe and disbelief. The questions, the doubts—all of it threatened to spill out. But something about Michael's presence stilled the chaos in his mind, if only for a moment.
"Why me?" he finally managed to whisper. "I'm… I'm just a regular guy. I don't even know if I believe anymore."
Michael placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip both comforting and unyielding. "Sometimes, the ones who doubt the most are the ones who can discover the deepest truths. Faith is not the absence of questions; it is the courage to seek answers. And, Ano… perhaps it is you who will show others the path forward."
With that, the angel's presence faded, leaving Ano alone in the silence of his room, his heart racing. The doubts hadn't disappeared, but something had changed. For the first time, he felt the weight of a purpose he could barely comperehend.