What if angels still walked among us — not with thunder, but with tenderness?
In a world divided by conflict, fear, and political tension, the angels walk quietly — cloaked in human form, still bound by duty and ancient law.
When the death of a global spiritual figure threatens to break the fragile human spirit, Seraphine, one of the oldest angels on Earth, must make an impossible choice: observe... or awaken the world with her grace.
But grace has a cost.
Follow Seraphine, Alex, and Halo — a dog-turned-angel — through a journey that blends sacred beauty, real-world intensity, and moments of laughter, love, and breathtaking tenderness.
Wings in Disguise: The Grace That Broke the Silence – Inspired by the Legacy of Pope Francis
In this heartfelt second volume, you'll discover:
A deeply moving portrayal of angelic life on Earth
A global crisis seen through divine eyes
Emotional scenes set in Rome, Vatican City, and beyond
A powerful funeral that stirs humanity’s soul
A mysterious force emerging in dreams — and a new prophecy taking shape
Perfect for fans of gentle fantasy, spiritual realism, and emotionally rich stories with hope at their core.
Genre: FICTION / Visionary & MetaphysicalAll 5 stars
Wings in Disguise is a beautifully tender and deeply moving story that redefines what it means to be divine. Radu Niculescu’s portrayal of angels walking quietly among us, balancing ancient duty with human vulnerability, felt so real and heartfelt. The characters especially Seraphine and Halo captured my heart. The spiritual and emotional layers woven throughout the story made me reflect on hope, grace, and the power of gentle strength. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who loves a blend of fantasy with profound emotional depth and real-world resonance.
Chapter IX – A Funeral Watched by the World
The bells of Rome did not ring all at once.
They began at dawn — soft, distant, a gentle murmur weaving through the very bones of the city. From the towering bell towers and sacred cathedrals, the sound floated over cobblestones and quiet streets, unfurling like a breath before waking.
Inside the Sistine Chapel, beneath Michelangelo’s painted sky, candles flickered in the soft light, casting warm shadows as robed figures prepared what little was needed. No gold embellishments, no jeweled tombs for the fallen Pope. Just the scent of incense mingling with hymns and the aged wood of the chapel that had witnessed countless prayers.
He had asked for simplicity. A pine coffin. A prayer whispered, not shouted. Humility, even in death.
And the world, in its sorrow, had listened.
Across the globe, millions watched from homes, churches, screens flickering with compassion. Some were devout, kneeling in reverence. Others hadn’t prayed in decades, yet something in the solemn silence called to them — an ache, a buried memory awakening.
In the grand square, a hundred thousand mourners stood shoulder to shoulder, eyes brimming not from spectacle, but from recognition. They had known him — not personally, not clearly — but through warmth, through words, through the way he had looked at the poor without pity or distance.
Above them, in a balcony shadowed by ancient marble columns, Seraphine stood cloaked in stillness.
She didn’t move.
She didn’t have to.
Her grace had already begun to rise.
Not like a sudden flash of lightning. Not all at once.
