The Man Who Broke Raphael

The Perpetual Second Place

Inside the conference room of Horizon Arc Digital, the air felt suffocating even though the air conditioning was cranked down to 64 degrees.

Ethan Gray sat upright, his hands folded on the solid oak table, eyeing the final presentation slide that had just been closed.

He had just pitched the most brilliant marketing strategy in the company's history, complete with pinpoint research data, sharp consumer behavior analysis, and profit projections that were impossible to dispute.

Erick Hayes , the CEO, cleared his throat. The sound was like a chainsaw trying to cut through wet wood.

"It is a good strategy, Ethan. Very academic. You’ve always been the most meticulous when it comes to data," Eric said while tossing the laser pointer onto the table. "But we aren't writing a thesis here."

Noah Ryker, sitting directly across from Ethan, gave a smug half smile. He adjusted his expensive tie with a deliberate motion, ensuring his replica but looks real Rolex caught the glare of the overhead lights.

"The Boss is right," Noah chimed in calmly, his tone condescending yet masked by a layer of fake politeness. "Ethan’s strategy is indeed perfect on paper, but it’s too risky for the company's pockets in the short term. I’ve prepared an option that is a bit more aggressive."

Noah began laying out his strategy. Ethan remained silent, observing. It was a classic tactic, a bit of numbers manipulation in the retention section, seasoned with an illegal partnership with a third-party vendor who happened to be close to Eric’s wife's cousin.

Ethan knew full well that what Noah was doing would lead to a disaster by next year.

But Ethan didn't interrupt. He knew that in this world, a warning was just a discordant noise to those already drunk on instant profit.

"What do you think, Ethan?" Eric asked, looking at him with eyes that had already made up their mind.

"Noah’s projections might provide instant profit, Sir. But our operational risk margin will spike by 40 percent, and our brand integrity in the eyes of long-term customers could be destroyed," Ethan spoke flatly. No condescension, no excessive emotion. He was simply presenting the truth.

Noah let out a small laugh. "Do you hear that? 'Integrity'. We’re running a business, Ethan, not building a moral monument."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Ethan, I’m handing this project to Noah. You, go help the research department. Draft the legal documents so Noah can execute this next week. Don't give me a headache with that risk analysis of yours again."

Noah smirked as he walked out of the conference room, clapping Ethan on the shoulder hard enough to be felt, a blatant act of dominance they were both well aware of. "Don’t take it too hard, Bro. If you’d just learn how to play a little dirty, maybe you’d be more than just the perpetual second-in-command."

Ethan remained seated as the room began to empty. He was alone. The atmosphere in the conference room turned cold again, leaving only the hum of the AC. Arga let out a long sigh, not angry, not sad. He was simply too used to it. Like a man who lost a game of chess but still meticulously rearranged his pawns.

In the corner of the room, something that shouldn't have been there seemed to vibrate. Drifting dust particles seemed to gather, forming a shimmering shadow of light that glowed faintly among the stacks of presentation documents.

"That was incredibly annoying," the voice appeared. It wasn't a human voice, but a vibration that touched Ethan’s auditory nerves directly.

Raphael manifested. The figure didn't have wide-spanning wings like in church paintings, instead, he looked like a man in simple linen clothes that appeared far too clean for the dusty office. Raphael’s eyes glowed silver, staring at the door Noah had just exited with a look that seemed ready to cut the man in two.

"Can I give him chronic diarrhea during his project presentation?" Raphael asked bluntly, his fingers moving in an absurd twisting gesture. "Or maybe I could leak his corrupt emails to the central server tonight? A little lightning bolt to Eric’s computer? Believe me, I have a hundred ways to make that bald man fire Noah in five seconds."

Ethan wasn't even surprised. He was actually tidying his papers. "You’re showing up in the conference room again, Raphael?"

"The world is unfair, Ethan! That man named Noah doesn't even know the difference between ROI and Margin, yet he’s the one who won the project? Have all the humans on this earth lost their taste for the truth?" Raphael paced back and forth in frustration. His feet didn't even touch the carpet.

Noah slid his laptop into his bag. "This is an office, Raphael. Not a divine court. Besides, what's the point of winning if it's through sabotage?"

"That’s not sabotage, that’s called universal balance!" Raphael pointed at Noah, who was outside joking around with the office secretary in the pantry. "I am the angel who has guarded human memory since the Babylonian era. I’ve seen empires fall because of people like Noah, and I’ve seen history record people like you... who always end up as a footnote in someone else's book."

"Then I’ll be a footnote that didn't make a single mistake," Ethan replied as he stood up. He walked past Raphael, his shoulder passing slightly through the angel’s glow.

"Ethan, wait!" Raphael chased after him, his footsteps making no sound. "This offer of help won't bind your soul. I’m just bored of watching a genius like you get overtaken by an opportunistic idiot. One blink of my eye, and Noah’s career will be in ruins by morning."

Ethan stopped in front of the broken coffee machine, something he failed to fix every single week.

"Raphael," Ethan said calmly. "If I win with your help, what’s left of Ethan?"

Raphael fell silent. His silver eyes blinked slowly, trying to process the mortal logic that had remained difficult for him to digest for thousands of years.

"You would have your world," Raphael answered.

"But it wouldn't be a world I won," Ethan countered. He picked up an empty paper cup, placed it under the machine, and tried to press the espresso button. The result? Black water splattered all over the counter.

"Damn it," Ethan cursed under his breath.

Raphael stared at the puddle of coffee on the table sadly, as if the spill were a cosmic disaster equivalent to the apocalypse.

"See! Even the coffee machine betrays you!" Raphael cried out in frustration. "Let me fix this day for you. Just for today!"

Ethan only gave a thin smile, a smile full of exhaustion, yet sharp with resolve.

"Tomorrow is a new day, Raphael. If I give in to dirty tricks now, then tomorrow I won’t have a reason to be a good man anymore."

Ethan walked away from the conference room toward his desk in the quietest corner of the office, leaving Raphael standing there, holding a shimmer of light in his hand, baffled by the existence of a human who couldn't be swayed even by the most instant of miracles.

Ethan sat at his desk, turned on his computer screen, and began typing the draft of the report that Noah would eventually claim. His hands danced over the keyboard, fast and precise. There was no anger. Just the routine of a man destined to always be second place, in a world that never appreciated anyone who still possessed a conscience.

"You are the worst kind of puzzle, Ethan," Raphael whispered from the shadows of the corner.

"And you’re far too protective for a being that’s supposed to be impartial," Ethan replied without looking back.