Chapter 47 #3
The worlds began folding into one another and Michael was thrown back by the weight of every world folding over one another, on top of all of God’s warring creations.
He funneled them closer to Him, shrinking the forever expanding walls around them.
And as the prince fell, he crashed into Baal, and he looked at him, saw his eyes partly opened, blood pouring down them.
Michael wanted to grab his arm, urge him to shut his eyes, to keep alive right beside him.
Everyone needed to live. Even Baal. Azazel called out to Michael that they were all going to be crushed, but he didn’t call for retreat, and neither did Michael, and neither did Baal.
And when it seemed the crush was going to collapse all of time around them in a burst of fire, they saw what they feared — bright flames, rushing out of the floor a million suns away.
But it was not the eruption of a universe beginning again.
‘Lucifer.’
‘Lucifer!’
‘Devil!’
Beating his flaming wings and clawing at nothing, Satan climbed rapidly, all the demons opening their eyes despite the danger, cheering for their king who’d escaped Hell.
‘Of course he did,’ Michael thought with all the pride and joy he’d ever felt.
‘You were inevitable.’ Satan, king of Hell, father of sin, mother of evil, the god of nothing against the god of everything.
He reached them, and he rose before everyone, and he looked, briefly, to Michael, Baal, then to all those others he knew.
Rosier, Azazel. Several stars began to rise with him, and they surrounded their Father now.
When Satan turned, slow, he faced God, met Him as a child. Obedient, adoring.
‘I know,’ thought Lucifer, ‘how to kill you.’ And he surged forward, toward Him, watching every other Lucifer of every other world do the same with him.
Every sensation, every thought, every emotion anyone had ever felt — he breathed it in, swallowed it down.
The Lord was still split apart by Michael’s sword, and when Satan reached Him, he took the split, and he began to pull Him apart, more, more, light raying out of Him of scorching brightness, of every other light.
It rushed all the others, many who covered their bodies with their arms, who screamed in pain.
For all those still in Heaven, they noticed the bright dome that caged Heaven beginning to tear, as well, and the light leaking down hot to sizzle on the streets. Angels all began to scurry, hurrying into their homes. Phanuel remained with Metatron, looking up and shutting his eyes to find peace.
For all those on Earth, nothing had changed.
Dina continued to watch as Tadeo comforted the humans, kneeling by where they sat.
They were laughing, in shock and in relief, traded jokes, though sometimes trembling, about what they’d witnessed.
And Tadeo told them that though they’d all suffered great tragedy, they were still alive, and they must respect the dead by continuing to live.
“Our life is lent to us,” Tadeo was saying, voice gentle, “and we’ll have to give it back when the time comes, return it as honestly as we came into it.
And we spend so much more time dead than alive, so let us cherish the few years we have so that we pass on, we have a lot of stories to tell.
Well, we might have plenty already, but I’m trying to cheer us up.
” The people laughed, and Dina felt himself almost smile.
Then, Joana’s youngest brother frankly told Tadeo that he was hungry, and Tadeo paused, then chuckled.
“Let’s get some food then.” He planted his hands on his knees, lifted himself to stand, raised his hands, only to pause.
Tadeo had prayed so much of his life, hoping for good to win, and he wanted to pray still, but not now. He looked back at the child.
Tadeo waved the boy over, and when he noticed a few other children scattered about, he gestured for them too.
“Come, come,” he said. “Let’s all do it together.
” Within a minute, eleven children had all scurried over, including some that had been hiding behind rubble and cars, simply watching; two of them being a young girl with her toddler brother.
They organized themselves around Tadeo patiently, excitedly.
“Show your hands like me.” And they did, planting them before themselves at a patch of grass with some stray, surviving flowers, and a half-collapsed prickly pear cactus without fruits or flowers.
“Imagine it, want it. Imagine you’re a saint, and you’re making miracles. ”
Slow, the ground before them sprouting greener, rising higher.
The cactus’ damaged side bloomed anew, flowers unfurling from its head, then curling apart to reveal fruits.
But the miracle continued as the children awed.
More cacti grew beside the original, and some flowers, some trees, the kind that Tadeo had known all his life.
And breathing out slow, Tadeo shut his eyes, his heart settling in his chest. Life gasped awake all around him and fought through concrete and rocks and underground infrastructure to grow.
All the older humans, and nearby Dina, watched all of it return to the surface of Earth after bombardment and razing and death.
And they watched it begin to overrun every building.
Green and green, swallowing them in a flood.
When it began to climb up their bodies — they allowed it.
Dina did as well, wondering if Apsinthos was still calling him.
He was no longer listening. Flowers grew by his bare feet, roped around his legs, and Dina watched it happen with burning eyes.
Joana’s brother reached for the fruits of the cacti, first.
Satan felt the burn of God tearing apart but knew better.
The Lord was not a creature on a chair, and He was not in the sky, and He was not below.
Inside every angel, demon, human. He had been in Christ; He had been in Judas; He had been on the crucifix and nailing Himself to it.
God, killing Himself. Torturing Himself.
God, on Earth, as Christ. Christ, without a memory of His life as God, only knowing the Lord is His Father and that he can feel Him in a way that no one can.
Christ, a man of Nazareth, born on Earth; a God without the memory of being God, trying to find meaning through being small, mortal.
Where had God found meaning — in love or in suicide?
Had it been suffering that had taught God meaning?
Or had it been love? Another man, a betrayer? A human mother? A human father?
The light would burn them all, would kill them all, but Lucifer persisted. The demons and the angels and the Watchers were all burning, and they seemed to understand what was about to happen. But they told Satan, “Kill God!”
Baal called out: “End it, Lucifer!” ‘My love, Lucifer. I told you that it wouldn’t all be for nothing.’
Michael called out: “Kill God!” ‘Forgive me. Beloved Lucifer.’
Azazel tried to shield himself from the blast with his arms, but what he saw in between was Samyaza, grabbing him, trying to save him the pain. “No— Samyaza—” The light swallowed him, and Azazel begged Satan, “Kill Him, Lucifer! Please!”
God shattered into three, and the burst of light, like at the beginning of time, swallowed them all.
On Earth, the end was gentler. Dark green, quiet in between the sound of children rustling the leaves.