Chapter 13 #3
Opening up the door closest to me, I’m thrilled to find a bedroom with the most decadent king-sized bed I’ve ever seen in my life.
The plush bedding and abundance of pillows sing to me, and for a brief moment, I have to stop and chastise my inner compulsion to jump into it.
I reek of camel musk, and it’d be a damn shame if I were to foul up my sleep haven with that stench.
Thankfully, I find my luggage has already been delivered. It waits for me, neatly stacked in the corner of the room, like a small and welcome familiarity. I waste no time digging out my toiletries before wandering into the attached bathroom.
The first thing I notice is how awfully cold the marble floors are. Beautiful, but fucking freezing.
Then I go to town, embracing the bathroom like I’ve just become a rich heiress overnight. If they want to treat me like a princess, I’m not complaining. I’ll gladly accept these perks in compensation for giving up my normal life to fight in their apocalypse war.
The shower in here could comfortably fit five people, the jetted tub another three. And the variety of different nozzles and settings in the shower, including an extremely realistic-feeling rain simulation, with the seemingly endless hot water supply? Simply to die for.
When I finally make it back into the bedroom, I don’t even bother shutting the black velvet drapes. Who could see me naked from here? The locusts? Having them catch a glimpse of my breasts is the least of my concerns. The thought alone is laughable.
Besides, overlooking the city of the Abyss is a grounding feeling.
Quite literally, it reminds me that this expansive, complex city is somehow underground.
They have independent commerce, rivers, agriculture, government…
even their very own artificial celestial body.
It’s hard to believe I’m still on Earth, regardless of whether or not it’s in some weird metaphysical way that I can’t even begin to understand.
And, just to think—all of this was built for an intelligent, lethal species that I didn’t know existed a month ago. Hell, from my understanding, every other human on the planet has been completely blinded to the entire society that lives in the shadow of our civilization.
The population before me, already vast and unfathomable on its own, is only a piece of a much larger puzzle, too. The Abyss is only one of the hidden cities. Dusk has mentioned one more—Elohim, he called it—but who knows how many there might be?
I need to sit down.
Leaving my spot at the window, I dig into my suitcase, looking for some lounge clothes to hold me over until dinner.
I can hardly think straight for the war raging inside my head.
Part of me feels like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, but at the same time, I’m drowning in the overwhelming feeling of not belonging here.
Humanity, in general, does not belong here.
After slipping on the first comfortable set of clothes that I can find, I pull back the comforter of my new bed and crawl underneath it. And dear God, it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.
I briefly regret putting clothes on, if only so I could feel more of the feathersoft embrace against my skin. Maybe I’ve just never had the highest quality of sheets before, but I wouldn’t be too surprised if this is some sort of special angel creation.
I might hate how much better they have it than my species.
They’re extraordinarily beautiful, can never die, have magical powers, fly, live in literal palaces… and they have probably been this way for as long as humanity has existed. Maybe even longer, if some Bible stories are less metaphorical than I initially thought.
At a minimum, the existence of mankind must have been one big observational study to them. The real question is whether or not they’re just observing us.
Dusk has designated missions, clearly. And somebody, whether that’s a person or entity, has to be giving him those missions.
If I had to guess, I’d say it has something to do with that mysterious council of angelic authority he mentioned.
And I highly doubt he’s the only angel—in a population that is apparently much larger than I assumed—who is getting said missions.
So, whether or not I know what it is, they have an agenda. And by being here, I’m serving it. Blindly, faithfully… Or, at least, that’s what I want them to believe.
I really just wanted a better chance to keep innocent people from suffering than I would have had sitting on my ass at home.
My family and friends may not know it, but they’re counting on me to keep them safe during the end of the world.
I’m just not really sure what I have to do to accomplish that.
Maybe opening the Abyss is the answer.
Maybe I need to destroy it instead.
Unleashing these devout killing machines is going to be a hell of a lot more consequential than I thought it’d be, and I have a limited amount of time to figure out my plan.
If only one person can open the Abyss, and that person is me—and the angels believe the key can just somehow reincarnate if I were to die—then, theoretically, they could decide that killing me is worth passing it on to a better candidate.
After Abaddon’s display today, I wouldn’t put it past them.
I have to make myself indispensable, then. Somehow, I have to convince them that I am the right person to receive this power, even if I don’t believe it myself.
Which means I should probably start there.
I need to know why I, of all people, ended up with this power.
Because it sure as hell isn’t my qualifications.
Absolutely nothing about me is more capable of fulfilling an ancient biblical prophecy than the next random person.
If I were any worse at basic human functions, I might even be convinced that I’m meant to fail.