 
Ophannim Eye

Jesse Steele

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Copyright © 2017-2019 Jesse Steele

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ISBN: 978-137-048-514-7

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For my little sister
**Table of Contents**

For my little sister

Introduction

Prologue

Search

Sight

Starlock

Song

Solution

Story

Seduction

Silence

Signs

Settle

Spirits

Salvation

Slipped

Slaughter

Sanctified

Secluded

Summit

Secrets

Conclusion

About the Author
Introduction

_Please report type-o's and errors to:  
_books@jessesteele.com

Thank you.

Some things are best told as a story and, in the immortal words of Paul Harvey, "This is the rest of the story."

This is a novel, a form of fiction. It retells many stories of the Bible and introduces many stories from before Bible times. The actual events are more detailed and more Biblical than the fictitious stories of this novel. But, this novel was written to tell stories from Heaven's perspective and, though they are Fiction, these stories are more Biblical and contain greater detail than we often perceive the rest of the story to be.

The best way to overcome our doubt about God's goodness is the reminder that He sees many more things than we do. At best, these stories are accurate by coincidence. At worst, they are a good start to understanding that angels are real and that a lot more happens than we know about.

Much has been said about Christianity and the Bible that is unfair. About half the time, the unfairness comes from the religious establishment itself and is used against the general public—Christians and non-Christians alike. Twisted Scripture justifies heinous action against mankind, such as some crimes of the Crusades or when the Catholic Church burned the Anabaptists for being baptized a second time. The religious establishment should know better. Still, though we should always be humble and helpful, decent Christians, whether today or in history, need not apologize for a bureaucracy which has all the indications of being a poser. All of us have suffered at hands that abuse Scripture—which treat the Bible as a cudgel instead of a book.

Rather than seeing the counterfeits for what they are, those oppressed by religious impostors often believe False Premise Number One: that the oppressors represented God—which is an obvious lie.

Even though nothing condemns tyranny more adamantly than Scripture, unwitting victims—their memories marred with visions of Bibles in the hands of their captures—blame God for things He opposes.

In their rage and pain, they scream, "So if God is good, then why does this happen?" It's okay to ask this question. Everyone has. But, it's not acceptable to claim that the question is birthed in anything other than uninformed emotion and pain. The question is only asked by those who experience pain caused by evil, whether through participation or observation. Sooner or later, it is a good question to ask—so long as we're honest about both its origin and its answer.

It would be as if someone wore a mask of your mother's face and beat you saying, "I'm your mother." Then, in your pain, you decided to hate your real mother. "Why did she do that to me?" is the common reactive question. Perhaps you'd be among the few who realized that it wasn't your real mother. "Why wasn't she there?" you might then ask. "If she was there, why didn't she do anything?" But in either case, you assume that, since you don't have a good answer to these questions, she couldn't possibly have a good answer either—which is faulty reasoning.

Nonetheless, would you blame your real mother for what an impostor did? That would not reflect on the character of your mother if you did; it would be a sign of your own emotional distress. Your pain would be real, but you would not have the mental faculties to explain what had happened to you. And, your mother would most likely experience more grief than you would.

As a result, many who only know straw-man misrepresentations of Scripture and Jesus claim that the Bible is fake or partially true or that God is unfair. But, to be responsible, a scholar must be willing to look at a situation honestly. Being angry at a hypocrite's so-called "Jesus" is not honest. A plaintiff must become sober from his pain before presenting his case. But, that's not easy. So, the misunderstanding is understandable.

The Word of God is powerful and nothing can harm people more than a proverb in the mouth of a fool—especially if the fool has a PhD. It is neither the Bible nor Christians who are to blame for evil on Earth—it is wicked people who knew what they were doing was wrong, though they never admit it, not even to themselves.

But oh, how we love to lynch a hunchback!

So, Scripture is presented unfairly. Half the time it is used to oppress people. The other half, the oppressed rebut only against twisted Scripture, not being diligently studied in what Scripture actually teaches. Thus, everyone is unfair to God. He would gladly answer our outcry against evil—if we would merely cry to Him instead of against Him. This book attempts to set the record straight, as Lincoln said, "With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right..."

Background is Everything

The harsh wrath seen in the Old Testament—and even greater wrath seen in the New Testament at the Cross and Final Judgment—are punishments against evil, not against those oppressed by it. Christ himself suffered at the Cross, both spiritually and physically, more than any soul will suffer in the eternity of Hell. In doing so, he gained the authority to deliver mankind from oppression. So, we never saw how much Satan suffered as a result of Christ's victory at the Cross. God has been judging the oppressors from the Beginning. We just haven't see much of that judgment, for now.

The Bible tells the story of Noah's flood, burning Sodom and Gomorrah, and Israel's war against Palestine—but it was written to an ancient audience that already understood the great evil of those days. Why didn't Scripture describe more about that evil? Why doesn't the Bible explain why those wars in Canaan were necessary?

It wouldn't make sense for a sports announcer to describe the rules of basketball in every score report. It wouldn't make sense to explain why people play sports at the beginning of every game. It wouldn't make sense for a stock ticker to explain the basics and rationale of trading on the stock market. Reports, news stories, and history assume that the reader has some background information. Christians who study Scripture thoroughly know how evil many societies were in the Bible times. But, homework is required before anyone can understand literature written for people who lived thousands of years ago.

In all of the wrath God delivered throughout Scripture, He never commanded punishment against the atrocities that aborigines commit against each other nor against what the United States did to the Native Americans nor against what great evil the Nazis committed. The societies whom God punishes in Scripture are far more wicked than anything modern society knows. We should not blame God for revealing His wrath in the Bible, but be thankful that we such a better world that many of us don't understand why those punishments in the Bible were necessary.

The wickedness of those God punished in Scripture was so terrible that it would make Nero seem like Santa Clause. Were it not for the pain, it would be almost comical that so many of us accuse God of being unfair for punishing only the most evil societies, yet, we also slander God for not punishing someone who dares to cut us off at an intersection. Perhaps, it is God who is just and fair and we are the tyrants. Maybe that's the deeper reason why we often object to God's wrath—because His wrath reminds all of us that we need His mercy.

We must distinguish pop culture's so-called "Christians" from Bible-believing Christians. Many people use the label "Christian" without understanding or agreeing with its original meaning in the book of Acts. Pop culture's understanding of "Christians" can often be that of "establishment Christians", who believe Christian fellowship requires a licensed religious establishment. But, Bible-believing Christians genuinely believe the Bible itself and merely apply it to the rest of their lives, informally discuss it with other Christian friends, and that's all there is to it. Religious establishments aren't necessary if the Bible is the true center of a Christian's life.

Moreover, those Bible-believing Christians, specifically, believe that in the Bible God is merciful and only poured out His wrath on the most wicked of mankind and the Fallen angels who incited evil in Earth. That explanation doesn't always come from "establishment Christianity" since establishments have auxiliary prerogatives that often take priority over clarification of the Bible. So, the fiction of this book attempts to tell some of the best-kept secrets among many Christian establishments.

This book describes what that background of the Bible times might have been, to give some explanation for what Bible-believers are thinking when we tell Bible stories, whether about wrath, mercy, or anything else.

Whether you agree or disagree with Scripture, true Bible-believing Christians do not believe that God sits in Heaven, watching for us to make the slightest mistake, with His finger on some "smite" button. So-called "Christians" who believe that God does this are merely pop culture "Christians" and many of them may even think that they believe in the Bible. They need help and prayer, not agreement. Those who believe in the mythical "smite" button either celebrate it or despised it, but true Bible-believing Christians know that the "smite" button is only fiction and its author is none other than Satan.

Christian Fiction

Many stories begin with unexplained events which capture the interest of the audience. Mysteries are explained throughout the plot, sometimes creating more questions than are answered; hopefully some of those questions resolve toward the end. Sometimes, more unexplained events may set the story up for a sequel. We understand the idea that the unknown can be explained in action films, whodunit books, and court cases.

This nature of story-telling can apply to history telling. Perhaps we could give God the benefit of the doubt. After all, He will explain all the mysteries in the End. For the time being, some Christian fiction might help.

CS Lewis wrote an allegory of the Christian worldview to help children understand what Jesus did at the Cross. The wrath and redemption of Christ Jesus are beautifully depicted in Aslan. As Lewis once explained to a concerned mother, if we find attributes of Aslan attractive, we will, hopefully, give credit to Jesus, since those attributes are seen strongest in him—the real him. I don't know which Jesus you've heard about, but the Jesus I worship is a lot like Aslan. And, as with Aslan, the White Witch doesn't want you to know the truth about him.

Some theologians may express concern about writing angelic fiction that so closely traces Scripture while filling-in gaps with speculation. Such objections would stem from their desire for truth and it is admirable for theologians to feel this way. Not a word or paragraph of this novel was written when the same ramifications did not weigh heavily on my own heart.

The truth must not only be told; it must also be understood. God has been slandered through undue skepticism. If we are going to speculate, we owe it to the truth that we speculate in a way that accepts the premises of the Bible—that God is, in fact, near and that His wrath against evil demonstrates His mercy on all people. Sin existed before we were born and Jesus Christ offers us redemption from it, through repentance unto hope, having suffered more than even the most condemned humans ever will. I don't want to merely trumpet this from a bullhorn. I want the message to be understood and received.

Consider the Homiletical question. Preachers and teachers and mentors use their own words to help people understand the Bible all the time. Why not use fictitious angels, or fictitious stories about real angels, to do the same thing?

Angels do something with their time and space. Though we all know much about what Angels do, we rarely give diligent consideration to what kinds of things that something might be. However, if we speculate about the types of things that happen in Heaven without our knowing—carefully basing our considerations on what we know from the Bible and literature quoted in the Bible that agrees with the Bible—perhaps we'd be better off.

Angels have a story. This is the rest of the story of how things could have happened. And, if they happened this way, it was both good and Biblical. So, this novel cannot be factual in all of its detail, but it just might strike a chord of truth to set us on the right path. And, that is the point.

Types of Angels and Names

The word "Angel" and "Human" are capitalized in the storyline. This is to treat them as a kind of ethnic group from the view of Heaven. "The Heaven" has the definite article when referring to the place where "Angels and God dwell", more or less. It's difficult to define "Heaven", but we all know what it is. I call it "the Heaven" here. Earth appears as a name, capitalized and without the article.

"Ophannim, Cherubim, and Seraphim" are plural. "Ophan, Cherub, and Seraph" are singular "Ophannin, Cherubin, and Seraphin" are cultural-ethnic, such as referring to an "uncountable" people group, language, or culture and its elements. "Archine" is the plural, singular, and cultural form for all of the "normal" or "conventional" humanoid angels with two wings. This is not necessarily from actual linguistics, but it was the form of the words I chose for this story. If the "-m" and "-n" differences for "Ophannim, Cherubim, and Seraphim" seem confusing to you, feel free to think of them all as plural and me just being in love with my own complex use of language. That's probably what it is anyway. But, when writing about things we can never fully understand, I felt it was only appropriate.

Update from Previous Publication

This book could be labeled as "Memoirs of Ophannin, Edition II". It was largely based on _Memoirs of Ophannin_ and the final chapter (the end of Christ's millennium on Earth) is almost identical to the same last chapter, the exception being some events at the Great Judgment.

But, the changes in this book were too much. Entire chapters were added. Almost every chapter was rewritten. Nearly all of the long "page turner" narratives were cut and more dialogues were written in their place. So, rather than making this a "second edition", I made the name more palatable and the content more interesting.

The first stories about humanity in the final chapter I left mostly unedited, except for typographical and grammatical errors, mechanical form to keep some level of consistent style, important details that may have slightly altered in other parts of the through lines, and nomenclatures such as "Rings". The term "Ring" reads better and contains some hint at deeper meaning for readers to ponder. I did not edit those stories for much beyond this because I wanted to preserve a taste of the first edition.

This is by many reasonable accounts, a different book. The original _Memoirs of Ophannin_ should remain available for quite some time after publication, mostly to satisfy the curiosity of the curious.
**Prologue**

In the Beginning of Beginnings was the Void. Then came the Light Source. Apart from Him was no other Source. He created Light by separating what was in the Void. But, the Void did not separate easily.

The Light was vibrant and violent. But, the Darkness sought to return to become one again with the Light, returning the Void to nothingness once again.

The Darkness was conscious and forever non-negotiable. It was jealous of the Light—of its power and strength to overcome. It hungered for and blamed the Light. Still, the Light shined in the Darkness, yet the Darkness had neither the understanding nor the wherewithal to overcome it.

In the Beginning of Beginnings, in that era of Times, the Darkness engulfed everything except where the Light reached. This was how the purification of the Void began. The Darkness was first separated from the Light, then overcome by it. But, the purification had only begun.

And, so, the Light purified the Void and overcame the Darkness and the Darkness objected.

" **You come in vanity," protested the Darkness.**

" _I am the Light that shines. I shine not for myself, but for all others who will follow me," responded the Light."_

" **You come without invitation to take and control all that is not yours."**

" _I am the one who created the Void you oppress. I have come into that which you occupy, but did not create. I have come already and I will come."_

" **You took the Light from me to keep it for yourself. Give it back!"**

" _I am the Giver of Light. But, you would not give the Light that was given you. You only took Light, which did not then shine. So, the Light has been taken from you so that the Light may shine."_

" **Your work is greedy and selfish. You don't want me to have what is mine."**

" _I am selfless. Selfishness and selflessness are neither one the same. Yet, you cannot tell the difference because you are blind to all things revealed by the Light, including the results of your own failed deeds."_

" **You have none to support your claim here."**

" _I am the Light and Life. All who have the Light of Life will support my claim everywhere. And, while your witnesses are yet to come, they will not have the chance to testify, even falsely, in your favor as you obliterate all who serve you and all that you possess."_

" **Your aim is too far. You are alone and you are small."**

" _I need but one light to reach my aim, still I will make countless."_

The Light began by spreading many stars and constellations, enlightening Truth in the Void. And, among them, one star in particular burned with a kind of fire that the Darkness feared. Though the Darkness feared all stars for their light, this Star of Fire, in particular, posed a threat to the Darkness.

" **You have created a star that I can neither penetrate nor search. Yet, you claim that you act to give rather than to take. What secrets have you placed in that Star of Fire?"**

" _I am the Light which has no secrets of Darkness. Nor are any secrets in the Star of Fire. It is a place where your servants will be safe from the obliteration you plan for them. Here, they will know less sorrow than you would give them, yet they will also be forever refrained from destroying the remainder of this Void."_

" **You do this because you expect me to fear and obey. I will not fear you and I will not obey you. So, your plan is undone."**

" _I am already finished in my plan. Your fear, folly, obedience, and disobedience are yours. Whatever I do, you cannot understand. Whatever you do not heed will continue regardless."_

" **You lie! There is no witness to confirm what you claim."**

" _I am the first of many witnesses; yours will testify against themselves and mine will deliver the Void from yours."_

" **You can collaborate no witness with one word against another."**

" _I am the Creator of the Void you now occupy, and I will be the first witness to index my testimony, and their selfishness and selflessness will confirm my every WORD."_

Then, the Light hung the orbits of stars and bodies in their places and the Darkness cursed them so that they would give no life, all except one, which was too humble for the Darkness to notice. It would become the footstool of the created order. And, that world would come to the Light in its Time, in the Beginning.

The formation of the constellations was the means of the exchange between Light and Darkness and, while the servants of Light know their meaning, the Darkness always told an alternate version which, though it contradicted one version after another, nonetheless gave servants of the Darkness the excuse they needed to reject the Truth long enough to bear their false witness against the Light. The children of Light and Darkness would follow, and while they appeared the same at first, they were irreconcilable from the Beginning of Beginnings.

Here are the records from memory, which were written by one of the few righteous ever to speak with the Ophannim, the governors of the Void, who came before the Angels...
**Search**

The Ophannin orbited the One under the expanse. Constellations took their courses all around, above and below, and millennia passed as mere moments. The Ophannin themselves were wheeled gyroscopes within gyroscopes, covered with eyes. The One shined like a star among them. The Ophannin searched Him out, His light more fascinating than all the stars of the expanse.

Triennia passed. They saw all and knew all and they all orbited in silence. The stars spoke for themselves according to the will of the One; they explained Him as the Ophannin beheld and understood.

Then there came a question.

"What of choice?"

The question wasn't spoken, it was merely understood. It seemed to come from the stars among the expanse. Everything happened according to the will of the One. The only sentiency beyond Himself belonged to the Ophannin who circled and watched.

As constellations continued their courses, the Ophannin queried that question, "What of choice?"

The only active wills were that of the One, who shined in the Darkness and created whatever lights He willed, and that of the Darkness, who only begrudged and resented the light that It could neither consume nor understand.

Then came the first knowledge.

The Ophannin understood a new found power. They had choices to make all of their own. Spinning, they redirected the courses and forms of constellations and starlit bodies. The Ophannin set the courses and changed the courses as they willed. The expanse began to move with a new orbit as the Ophannin built creativity upon creativity.

Triennia passed as the Ophannin spun their thoughts and understanding of the One into the stars that light the expanse until, at last, the One joined them and inspired their own creative thoughts with His own. He neither challenged nor changed their reason, but empowered their own creativity to hasten and amplify.

Then came galaxies and worlds. And, the question returned, "What of choice?"

The galaxies reflected the will of the Ophannin as they understood the One. But, what of a will beyond their own—a will to exist within the galaxies and worlds?

As the Ophannin orbited and spun, they searched the stars they did not create for answers. They searched the galaxies they did create. But, they found no answers to the question of will within will.

It seemed that all was vain, though such beautiful knowledge could not possibly be. The only answer came in waiting.

Once the Ophannin had come to understand, in silence, their second question, all their eyes turned to the One. They felt it. Globes began to emerge from the One until their numbers reached billions. It was not so countless that the Ophannin struggled to know their number, but their eyes grew wide, for each globe had a will of its own.

The sea of globes took its place beneath them. They were colorless and clear. They had no form other than their own globe and each only stood as a lens to refract willfully from whatever it beheld.

Without warning, from the One shined a bright vision above, a wide circle, a kind of projected and directed light, such as had never yet been seen in the expanse. A bright and white glow engulfed a vast center. The outer rim of the circle was a rainbow, having seven rings of color, which were from inside-to-out: red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, indigo, and purple.

Where did this directed light, this vision, come from? Had not the Ophannim already seen everything there was to see? In Ophannin thinking, every question, every _thing_ must be seen and known. They pondered and searched the light, but found no source of this new vision. Then, they turned their gaze back to the One for answers. That's when they saw it: A single globe had quietly taken its place, not below the One, but above Him.

"This is My Son, lifted up."

The knowledge rippled through the Ophannim as they understood. The globe of the Son, clear and plain, had taken light from the One and explained what he saw in the One through the vision in the space above: A large circle of white enclosed by a rainbow.

Now, to the eyes of the Ophannim, the rainbow continued to phase through other colors to the very center of the circle. But, those were spectrums of color which were only known to the Angels at that time.

"This is the will, above, and those who will to see it work, below." The Ophannim understood. And, though they had been given the power to direct constellations and create galaxies, they had no means by which to affect what would happen next.

The Darkness stirred and approached the directed light. It hated the light, this directed light above the One more than any other. For this light was the will of the Son of the One. The Darkness had lost any right to claim that the One alone desired to shine. The Darkness wanted to shine _instead_.

But, lo, the Darkness was forever nonnegotiable and forever incorrigible, both unwilling and incapable of change or progress. The One, though He never changed, never ceased to progress; though not needing to learn, the One never ceased to shine knowledge. And, this new vision was new knowledge from the One given only through the Son.

It summarized all that the Darkness was missing, fullness of color and love. As much as the Darkness loathed the mere existence of this vision cast through the will of the Son, the Darkness could not disrupt it. The Darkness could not stop it or stamp it out. Piercing in from the outside like the spokes of a wheel, the Darkness could be seen beyond the projection of the Son, both powerless and waiting.

Abrupt motion stirred in the sea of globes below. Each started to ascend as a massive wave began to build. With no warning, the globes ascended all around the Ophannim, swarming upward. The Ophannim watched with anticipation that they had not known until this time.

One by one, each globe took up a place in the vision above. Through their presence, the directed light took clearer form. Globes toward the center shined with white light. Globes taking position along the colors of the rainbow shined with whatever colors occurred at their place.

As glorious as the vision was, Darkness loomed. Spokes from the Darkness lingered behind the vision, wanting to penetrate the light, but couldn't. The Darkness was only seen lingering behind the vision, not touching it, and the darkened spokes did not even reach to the center-most quarter of the vision.

As globes took their places in the vision, some globes chose to take their place where the darkness could be seen behind, within the darkened spokes. These glowed differently from the other globes, which shined, lighting the darkness in their own way.

As the last of the globes took their places above, the Darkness-backed area of the vision slowly took the shape of a dim-glowing twenty-one-point star within the bright, shining disk, three rings of white in the center and a rainbow surrounding the perimeter.

"They are contracting!"

They Ophannim finally understood. Each of the globes, a willful sentiency, had seen the vision above and chosen its own place to make the vision real. The Darkness, unable to stop the progressing lights, had beckoned to the will of the globes, negotiating with them to fight against the One Light, asking them to take up a place within the will of the Darkness. The globes who shined in the light had given their answer, just as the globes who glowed to hide the Darkness had given theirs.

This was the Great Contracting of souls, both Angel and Man, into the Timing of the Light.
**Sight**

"What are they?" Mimi asked.

"Eyes," said the Lord of Light. "Spiritual lenses of eyes yet to come. You might think of them as the souls of unborn Angels."

The two stood alone and gazed in the brilliant hall of Twilight, surrounded by what seemed like endless fields of vats of small crystal marbles, the only ceiling shown galaxies and constellations sailing their courses overhead.

"Spiritual eyes," she said. Mimi paused for what seemed like ages, pondering their magnificence. Light emanated from the eyes. They were perfectly clear, illuminating the hall, augmenting the glory from the Lord of Light Himself. "They're beautiful. Do they glow all by themselves?"

"They only reflect light from the presence that surrounds them," the Lord of Light explained.

Mimi paused again. She meandered through the fields in wonder. "What will become of them?"

"They will give sight to your younger kin."

"Do I have eyes like these?" Mimi asked. She had the innocent curiosity of a child asking her grandfather why rain falls from the sky.

"I remember you before I gave you sight."

"Why do they sit in pairs?"

"You are of the Ophannin. So, you bear many eyes. These are the souls of the Archine and Seraphim. Their bodies only bear two eyes. The Cherubin before them bore eight."

"So, this is how they will see."

"It begins with their eyes—how they see the expanse around them. These are the beginnings of choice and will."

"You mean the eyes have a choice?"

"Oh, yes," replied the Lord of Light. "Each will has choice. The eye lights the way for the will. It is the lamp of the entire being. Some choose to see and show the light, others prefer to confront questions of the Darkness."

Mimi hadn't noticed until then, but some pairs glowed brighter than others. Her eyes caught one pair in particular that was brighter than all rest. "This pair seems to love the light," she professed.

"No. Actually, he does not," the Lord of Light responded.

"Why is it so bright then?" Mimi couldn't understand. "Why would eyes that do not love the light choose to be so bright?"

"The brightest shall become the darkest and the darkest shall become the most radiant. Still, all will show light in the twilight," explained the Lord of Light.

"But, why? I mean... they are so bright. I don't understand. Why don't they love the light?"

"This pair only appears to be bright because of the presence around it. But watch..." The Lord of Light reduced Himself to a less glorious level of light and walked over to Mimi. He took the bright pair of eyes in His hand, along with a less brilliant pair in His other hand, and said, "Come. I'll show you."

They entered an adjacent chamber, nearly absent of light. He held out the brighter pair of eye lenses, which soon dimmed. "With no light, these have no light to take and therefore no light to give. But, the others will light up the darkness." He held out the pair that had been dimmer in the large hall and they began to shine brighter and brighter until their light was greater than any of the others in the fields under Twilight.

"Why are they shining now?" Mimi's tone was uneasy. "They weren't so bright before."

"These take my Presence and reflect it as light, even in the darkest of places, but the other eyes can't understand."

"Why?" Mimi asked.

"Because, though these eyes seemed bright in the Twilight, they stole their light from around them. In the light, the first eyes appeared to glow, while others remained pure, allowing only my Presence to pass through them. The first eyes are evil. They lie, deceive, and take. In the darkness they give no light because there is no light for them to envy."

"So, they only take and do not give. They don't love the light, they covet it."

"Yes," said the Lord of Light.

"Without You and Your light, they would have none to covet. Do they not respect You as the Lord of Light?"

"They think their defiance has defeated Me in itself. But, I want neither their defeat or My survival. I want Light and Life."

"So, what will You do with them?"

"I will let them have their choice. That is why I made them?"

"So, they will remain as this?"

"This is Twilight, the dawn of choice. The light is not yet full. In the full darkness and in the full light, the pure souls will shine. These, however, being evil, will only glow at twilight."

"So, these made their choice when they took their place in the Great Vision?"

"Yes."

"Why are You showing me this?" Mimi asked.

"You are among the firstborn, the Ophannin. You and your brethren have eyes that loved my light. Before I formed your wheels, when you were but a lens like these, you did not compete with My Presence. You were clear, empty, and reflected my light. That is why I am telling you these things, because you love the True light. You have ever since I made you."

"But, what can I do with this knowledge? Their choices were already made. These lenses already contracted with Your Great Vision. I can't change what's already been done."

"You are My witness," explained the Lord of Light. "You saw the condition of these Angels' souls, even before they awaken."

"All I see here is the beginning of great evil and great goodness. But, how can they live together?"

"They can't. So, I have a solution."

"What will You do with the evil eyes? Will You destroy them?"

"Yes, but I can't now. It would be wrong."

"Why?"

"Because their evil deeds have not yet been witnessed—only their evil intentions."

Just then, a large creature entered. He had six wings and the face of a man and the body of a lion. His body was covered with eyes.

"Travore!" Mimi smiled. "Has the Lord told you about the eyes and the light?"

Travore nodded. "The Light's Presence gives us all the light we need. Some regard light as something to be horded and claimed for themselves. That's how these eyes will always see the world. They will desire what others have, even though they have been given abundance. Taking is all they will ever do."

"So, destroy them!" Mimi pleaded. "Don't let eyes that take give sight to an angel's being."

"It is tragic—the beginning of all evil. Yet, there is nothing punishable here," Travore responded.

"I made you Ophannim," the Lord of Light said. "Stealing light seems terrible to you, as it should. But, it isn't a tangible offence because no harm has been done. Light is abundant in my Presence."

"All the eyes reflect the Light's Presence just the same," Travore explained. "They haven't harmed anything. So, we can't harm them. To destroy these eyes would end the life of a sentient will, even before that life begins. Because we love the Light, we cannot do that. If we destroyed them, all the other eyes will wonder why they never knew their evil brethren. They will question the goodness of the Light Who punishes without crime—and they would be right to question Him if He did that. These eyes must be given the opportunity to act out their choices. It is sad, but it is love and justice. We must do justly, to the eyes of Light and Darkness."

"But, won't they take from others once the worlds are made?" Mimi began weeping.

"Yes," said the Lord of Light. "But, I will repay and make all things new. I AM the Beginning and I AM the Light and I WILL restore. These eyes will take, but I will return, and then, when their evil is fully known, I myself will exile them. You will be my witnesses of what happened in the Beginning and why these things must happen after the End. I force no one to stay in the Light. All those remaining will have remained by choice. Then, I will reveal greater things."

"So, there is more to come. You will create the first world, then bring it to End, and deal with the jealous eyes forever." Mimi pondered. "These eyes will see so many things, so much joy and so much sorrow. I can't imagine it all."

"In their beginning, they were pure and free wills, as blank and void lenses. Their first choice was only between light and darkness. Some chose to reflect the light, while others chose to hoard it." The Lord of Light held both hands out as they returned to the original chamber where the eye lenses rested. The one pair began glowing again as the other pair remained pure and transparent. "These two are brothers," He said.

As the Lord of Light approached their original place among the fields, Mimi noticed something. "They are wet," she said.

"These are tears," the Lord of Light explained. "Their tears respond to the light, just as the eyes they come from."

"Both are giving tears," Mimi wondered. "But, their tears are different. Some glow and some gleam with light."

"They shed tears for different reasons," the Lord of Light explained. "The evil pair gave tears because they kept my light for themselves and, trying to be something only I AM. They failed."

"They mourn over themselves. Those that glow are are selfish tears," Travore explained.

"But, why did the others give tears?" Mimi asked.

The Lord paused a brief moment as He returned the eyes to their place. "The good eyes grieved over his brother, because his brother tried to be something that he is not."

"All of them give tears," said Travore. "The question is, Why? The reason we give tears is the first choice that makes each will unique."

"See mMy hands," said the Lord of Light. He held out His hands and both of His palms were wet with tears. The tears in His right hand glowed, but in contrast to the light emanating from His own hand, they seemed very dark. The tears in His left, however, gleamed and sparkled with a purifying brilliance. "The tears are different. The evil tears pretend to be a source of light, drawing attention to themselves. The good tears are pure and reflect My light. Knowledge of the difference between good and evil is here in my hands and I AM sad because of what this evidence means. Still, I stretch-out both My hands, to evil and to good, but evil rejects my Presence for its own. In the End, evil will demand that I grant what it wants: to be its own light and to be sent out from My Presence. And, because of My love, I will grand this request, though it makes me sad."

"So, we don't need to see the eyes to know whether they are good or evil. We only need to see their tears," Mimi said softly.

"Light, I am curious. How will this unfold into history?" Travore had a gentle yet grave tone.

Looking at the glowing pair in His right hand, the Lord of Light said, "These will be short-lived. They are the eyes of a true light keeper. Their Angel will draw others to himself and turn them against each other. He will want what he cannot have and claim to give what only I can. His light will never be his own. He will be an unsatisfying friend to his brethren, always offering compassion where it is not needed, crippling those who accept his sympathy. He will mourn only for himself, even though he rejected everything that I offered him. He will be a star that does not shine except when all other stars become dim, a star that only gives light by taking, and he will slip into darkness when the day becomes full—a star that can only shine in the Twilight."

After that, the evil souls who glowed in the Presence of the Lord of Light were called Luminaries, or Light Keepers, which are different from the Luminaries of the heavens, such as the sun, the moon, and the constellations. Among the Light Keepers, their most devious Prince would be hidden among them. The Darkness of the Void would search out one whose heart to beckon and poison, but this particular Luminary yet to fall would neither be first among his brothers nor the last. For the Darkness was always concealing itself.

But, the pure wills, which reflected the light and did not hoard it, were known as Messengers of the Light, or also Angels. Of course, in the Light's infinite love and fairness, they were all known as Angels in the beginning, when their wills were first borne across the Heavens. Unlike Man's will, once the soul of an Angel was given a body, the eyes no longer gave tears. This is why the tears of Man fascinate every Angel. So, the Luminaries were not known to be different among their Angelic brethren until their evil deeds exposed them. Even after that, in love, many of the Angels would refer to the Luminaries as Fallen Angels because of the memory and sorrow of losing their brethren.

"These shall be the first two Angelic souls given a body," the Lord of Light declared.

"Do you know their names?" Mimi asked.

Still looking at the glowing pair lying in the vast field, the Lord of Light finally spoke, "They will have names, but they will not know the meaning of their names until later." He paused again, patiently studying the eyes of the firstborne Luminary. "This light keeper shall be Infamous Rebel... and his brother..." The Lord of Light turned His gaze to the clear eyes, "...None Is Like God."

Travore stood motionless, "Semjaza and Michael."

* * * * *

The Ophannin continued their orbit around the One, Mimi and Travore among them. All of them had beheld the manifested conversation between Mimi and the Light. They knew what would transpire in the expanse.

So, they waited until the One summoned forth globes in the center of the disc above. First, those in the most center were summoned, the Cherubin. They each flashed and started to vibrate with life, one by one, until a circle in the center was vibrant with life. The spokes of Darkness had not reached this center. It began to change colors, spectrums of light began rippling through this "eye" in the disk. It would flame and teem with hues invisible even to the eyes of Man and Angel.

But, an orbit stood dark among them. Seven had refused to come forth at their appointed time. They had seen the Darkness and its negotiation with the outer globes. Even without the Darkness having penetrated to their place, they objected to the Timing of the One. Being closest and brightest to the center, the Cherubin globes understood that Darkness would be defeated slowly. But, being closest to the Son and the One, therefore having the most power of the globes on the disk above, these seven Cherubim saw no reason for patience in eradicating the wills who had willfully cooperated with the Darkness. "If justice must wait, so shall we."

Then, beams of light shot through the orbital structure of Ophannin. The first arrows of light never seen came from the One to each Ophan, to the Son, from the Son to each Ophan, and from each Ophan to another. The web of light grew stronger and stronger until, at last, from the Son came seven arrows of light toward each of the seven Cherubim who had not come forth. They sparkled with pure light, but they were already too late. The other Cherubin globes in the center had begun to change.

* * * * *

"Firstly condemn," the Son said. "So, they shall be."

Tsuyoshi stood alone with the Lord. He was one of the Ophannim, but he in particular had the form of a six-winged phoenix. The original phoenix looked like a solid-red peacock with a shorter tail. They were made after the likeness of this Ophan, who happened to be named Tsuyoshi. He spoke quietly and peacefully, for he spoke only with the One.

"They condemned in haste and will not wait," Tsuyoshi said. "I understand, but they are good."

"They are good indeed. They would not contract with the Darkness. But, they are impatient."

"Tell them they mustn't be. They will obey." Tsuyoshi pleaded for mercy on the seven Cherubim.

"Yes, they will repent and obey," the Son said. "But, they are already too late."

"Too late for what?"

"The Heaven which is about to be made."

"Time is of little problem in our eternity."

"Their time remains eternal, yes. Yet, they have delayed their own chosen entrance into our eternal Timeline. Because they missed their entrance time for which they contracted, they will always remain behind their Cherubin brethren until the next Age."

"So, they can become Second-Borne Cherubim. What is wrong with that?"

"In this Timeline, Darkened Angels yet to come will not overpower the Cherubim. But, these seven will not be strong against them. To allow them to come forth late would condemn them to defeat and scorn."

"Judgment is the only way? What of their repentance?"

"It was their will to not come forth, so must it be. They were impatient and sought immediate judgment. They repented, yet they remain weak. They must now endure immediate judgment to become patient and strong."

"I see," said the Ophan. "In giving to them the judgment they demanded, they are purged of their own guilt. Being good, they will survive this also, but not only survive—serving their own sentence will strengthen them."

"They shall strengthen all."

"All?"

"They foresaw, so shall they bear witness that the pain to come was foreseen so clearly that they willingly suffered merely to say so. When they come forth, the final sentence shall be executed, all debate shall be silenced, and thus shall begin the Second Age."

"Your judgment on them is good, oh Light, because it is their own judgment of their own contract with Your Timeline."

* * * * *

All the Ophannin saw and understood the conversation between Tsuyoshi and the Light. There was a pause among them. All of them appeared in their wheeled form, even Tsuyoshi, who bore the same colorful pallet of his phoenix form.

"So they shall be." The Ophannim knew, understood, decided, and agreed. While the other Cherubim would take their places in manifestations to come, these seven would remain stars, wakened enough to be aware, yet condemned and scorched by their own judgment, until the time of their condemnation is fulfilled, the time they chose to wait for, when the wills who contracted with Darkness are judged eternally.

And so, the Cherubin eye in the center of the disc above, lifted. Each was given form—four faces, four limbs, and four wings. The front face was of Man and sentiency. The right face was of a lion, the left was of an ox, and atop their heads was the face of an eagle. Their legs and feet were those of an ox and their arms and hands were that of Man.

A glass plane formed beneath them, millions of miles wide by the measures of Man and Angel, which are the same. Great crystals of various elements and materials formed above them, hovering in space, unlike any materials known to Man—heavenstone. As the plane of glass took its complete form, heavenstone crystals grew from the glass to descend from below the plane, longest in the center which even rose above the floor surface of the glass plane.

Some Ophanin rose from their orbits around the One, passing through the glass plane, hovering at various locations, distances, and levels. Some of them began to take form, each in the likeness of the four faces of the Cherubim, but with six wings each, others remained in their wheeled state; all were covered with eyes.

When the last of the Ophannim had taken their place and form, the globe of the Son ascended among them, through the empty eye of the disk where the Cherubim had also ascended from. He ascended through the longest crystal, through the glass plane, and hovered in the center, still shining with light from the One.

Visions began to emanate from the Son, showing around the expanse above the glass plane—structure and arches, spaces, stairs, columns, and halls. Then came more visions from the Son, of poles, blades, hammers, picks, points, and axes—tools with which to measure and build. But, there was only one vision of a chair, immediately beneath the Son, shining onto the longest crystal through which the Son came, through which light came from the One.

As visions appeared around the glass plane, the Cherubim began to work and fashion the hovering heavenstone crystals into the visions cast by the Son. They began with making their own tools, which they carved from the heavenstone using their hooves and fingers. With their wings they went forth, with their hooves they fractured and divided, and with their hands they guided their tools and crafted in both splendid detail and speed. Each Cherub worked from his own free will, their creativity inspired by each other and empowered by visions from the Son. They combined strength with beauty in the first crafted architecture of the expanse.

It all happened masterfully and in a moment. Lightning flashed everywhere. The Throneroom and Courts on the plane of glass had been crafted by the work of Cherubim from the visions and makings of the One. They would guard the very Presence of the Light as He made known His will through the Son.

Around the Son, seated on the chair beneath him, began to shine a pure-light vision in the form of Man, without matter. The globe of light remained inside, at the head, of this light-being. No Cherub attempted to fashion this vision. The crafting of the Image of the One was for a time yet to come. Their work had been completed.

Below, from where the Ophanim orbited the One, ripples of light could be seen through the eye of the disc, refracted by the heavenstone crystals descending from the glass plane above. These ripples changed as the Cherubim moved and worked, explaining their tasks in the form of light to the expanse below.

The One then summoned the Seraphim, they ascended from a ring immediately beyond the eye from which the Cherubim had ascended, dilating the eye of the disc. They first took the form of rippling flames, ascending and descending around and above the Throne where the Son hovered. Their flames grew in size and substance, finally taking the form of six-winged Angels having the face of Man and the white wings of a bird. Just as the Cherubim had worked freely, Seraphin Angels ascended and descended, each in their own creative manner, expressing their worship of the One and the Son in their dance through space in silent fashion that begged the beauty of song.

Then, the very One Himself rose through up through glass plane, through the very crystal which the Son had passed, and took up Position where the Son hovered over the Throne, engulfing the Son so that they occupied the same space, the Son still infinitely smaller. The vision of a Man that sat on the throne became more and more clear, yet remained as light. The Rainbow rose with Him and took up its place around the Throne.

When the One summoned the Archine, the last of the white globes in the disc ascended through the glass plane and began to take the form of Man, but with two wings each. Some were great and some were very small, twelve Princes among them, their greatest in size.

The Son was at the center of the One and could not be seen, having evaded the Ophannin view a second time. The Body-vision cast around the One had clear form, even streams of life flowing to and fro, but still without substance.

The Cherubim all stood guard, completely motionless, with their tools still in hand, looking only at the One.

The vision of the rainbow, along with all of the globes within it, orbited around the One. The globes had left their original locations, no longer in groups of glowing and groups of shining—from where the spokes of Darkness had permeated before their contracting. Now, the globes of both kinds were scattered throughout the rainbow and nothing was amiss or out of place. All seemed splendid for the time being.

The Archine, the last Angels to wake, knelt in silence around the Throne. They numbered in the billions, as did the Seraphim ascending and descending above them. They had no tools, no clothes, only their wings with which they covered their entire bodies, even their heads, as they knelt in fetal stance. This was the Highest Heaven of Heavens and how it was made.

The Ophannim, now orbiting and hovering both below and above and all around the vast plane of glass, asked their third question: "What of Man?"

But, the silence from the One, now above the Throne, was their answer. The Timing was not yet for Man. The Archine must first take their form and execute their choice—the choice they made before the plane of Heavens was made.

Four of the Ophannim, around the Throne, began to glorify the Son and the One, saying, "Separate and Holy, the Lord of Light and Glory." The Seraphim began to sing. The Cherubim stood silent, gazing at He who hovered above the Throne.

Then, the Archine slowly began to open their wings and gaze up toward the One. Though they had made their choice before the Heaven of Heavens was crafted above them, this was the first sight they ever beheld.
**Starlock**

Armen was enchanted. He stood at the edge of the precipice, at the edge of the plane of glass, peering into the expanse. Kokabel and Uriel accompanied him from a distance. Uriel was curious about Armen's fascination among the constellations.

One star in particular sailed at the center of Armen's trance. He couldn't take his eyes from it. If there were ever a time in his Timeline when he seemed fully gratified with a goal to pursue, it was this, when he first beheld the Forbidden Star. It stole Armen's attention and he had been standing motionless for days.

"Why do you harken to the Forbidden Star?" Uriel asked at length.

Armen remained silent. Perhaps, in his enchantment, he hadn't heard Uriel's question.

"Should we so meditate on things which are forbidden?" Uriel added.

"Why should it be forbidden?" Armen replied. "'Tis merely a star, not even a star with the breath of life, as are the stars which rise to become Angels. 'Tis merely a light giver and its light is most beautiful to behold."

"Perhaps," Kokabel entered the conversation, "Armen would understand why Uriel is so curious, and Armen's fascination would be satisfied, if I explained the laws which uphold the stars."

The Archine were young. Though Kokabel had opened his wings after Armen, it was within his stewardship to understand the laws of constellations set by the Ophannim. And yet, the Forbidden Star had been placed in the stewardship of Uriel.

"Did not any of the Ophannin train you in the laws of constellations?" It was difficult to tell whether Uriel's question to Armen was a warning or a genuine query. Considering the poetic innocence of the Archine, it was probably both.

Regardless, Kokabel responded to Uriel. "If it were Armen's purpose to know their courses and schedules, would the Ophannin not have taught him?"

"The Ophannin instruct me concerning the laws of constellations, as they do you," Uriel said. "They do so openly and without secrecy. Others often pass by while we learn and yet the Ophannin do not seclude the secrets of the expanse from any of the Archine, nor have they instructed us not to teach others."

"So, you know the wisdom of the constellations?" Armen asked his younger brother.

Uriel's concern over sharing knowledge of constellations was not without cause. He was the oldest of the three brothers. But, specifically, the only non-living star to give light, which Armen seemed to love more than his own life, had been placed in Uriel's care. At the time, the Archine did not know why nor did they know its mystery. They only knew that it was forbidden. As an older brother, watching out for his younger brothers, Uriel knew that some mysteries are forbidden for good reason, even when full reason had yet to be disclosed.

"Uriel," Kokabel asked. "From your learning, do you know the laws of the Forbidden Star? Its flight and its scheduled course in the heavens?"

"I have never yet been trained in the scheduled courses of Heavenly bodies, dear Kokabel. I can testify that the Forbidden Star has not moved since it was placed in my care. Though I have watched the other constellations sail their courses and seasons, and learned patiently as I watched, the Forbidden Star has remained still. I do not know what will ever cause it to move, if anything will."

"Perhaps you have not learned the deepest knowledge from the Ophannin," Kokabel said in a most pious and thoughtful manner. "Heavenly bodies under our care cannot have their courses re-written unless their mystery has been made known to at least one of the Angels," Kokabel said. "For if constellations were to move and change without explanation, the Archine who govern them would not know their purposes, which we Archine must prepare for in advance. So, the Forbidden Star does not move because we do yet not know why it is there. And, there it will remain until its purpose is unveiled."

"So, then," Armen noted, "constellations, also, have restrictions and rules... even concerning their knowledge."

"If a star does not move," Uriel replied, "then its mystery has not been revealed by any the Ophannim."

"Why then," Armen asked, "Would the One place the Forbidden Star in the care of Uriel. He is to guard the star and govern it, yet he does not know its purpose. It seems strange that a motionless star should need a steward."

This statement would be forever remembered as Armen's first deception. The answer to his question had already been made plain: The Forbidden Star contained secrets beyond any of the Archine, and those secrets would be revealed in the Ophannim's Timeline according to the wisdom of the One. Indeed, it was no normal star at all. It contained the judgment place of the seven Cherubim who had not come forth at their appointed time. Uriel did not yet know this because the plane of glass was still new, the Archine had only opened their wings within a few centuries, and the Ophannin teaching always came through time and demonstration.

However, Armen's purpose was not to find answers about the intentions of the One and the Ophannin, but to cause Kokabel to question the goodness of the One's purposes. Though his question was directed at Uriel, he knew that, being the governor of the Forbidden Star, Uriel's faith in the One would not be shaken. Seeds of doubt can only be sown when one questions things which do not concern one's own stewardship. Kokabel, too, became curious beyond his stewardship. This was the beginning of Kokabel's downfall, though it would not manifest itself for a millennium.

"The purpose of the Forbidden Star need not yet be revealed," Uriel replied. "For since the mystery does not move, all is well." The mystery Uriel spoke of was the Forbidden Star itself, since its purpose remained a mystery... But, with Armen's query among his brethren, the very mystery of the Forbidden Star was already unwrapping.

In the wisdom and foresight of the One, it could have been that this encounter of three brothers was His way of revealing the mystery of the Forbidden Star, but only to Uriel, because he knew his younger brothers all too well.

"I want to visit it," Armen said. "Is there a body in the Heavens which can take us thence?"

"None," said Kokabel. "It does not move. No constellations are allowed to cross their course with a Celestial mystery which remains in its place. This is from the law of Reaction."

"Reaction?" Armen asked.

"For each action, there must be an equal and opposite reaction. In the expanse, when two bodies collide, their collision only has a purpose if both of them are in motion. If one is not in motion, yet is collided with another, the stationary body will move, taking from the speed of the body which collided with it."

Though he understood perfectly, Armen pretended to be confused by Kokabel's explanation. So, Kokabel continued to unwittingly instruct Armen.

"When two Heavenly bodies collide, both of them change course, yet, both of them have a course. If, however, one of the bodies is not in motion, then it will simply take the motion from the other, continue on a similar course in place of the first, and leave the first in its former place."

"Why should this be a problem?" Armen asked.

"Because, dear brother, when a star is moving, it is for a purpose. If it stops or slows, and another star travels in place of the first, then nothing has been accomplished. They have simply changed places without cause or progress. One star would merely take from another. This is not allowed. So, a stationary star is not allowed to be interrupted. We could set a Heavenly body on a collision course with the Forbidden Star, but we won't. At least not until its mystery is revealed. You see, the Heavens protect those who remain still."

Armen gazed even more longingly toward the stationary mystery. He could never reach it. No vessel could sail him thence, and if it could then it would not. The Laws of the expanse, set by the Ophannim, prevented it. In that moment, upon realizing that he may never reach the Forbidden Star, joy drained from his face and he was never as happy as he had been before that day.

"But, why would you want to visit the Forbidden Star?" Uriel asked. "It is covered in flame. It has no land, only sea and fire. It has no place it came from and nowhere to go."

"It is not the surface of the star which beckons me. But, the light... I long to possess its light."

"Only the star can take hold of its own light. If you grasped its light, that light would soon vanish. Is not it enough to behold the light? Though the star is forbidden, it is not forbidden for us to gaze on it. Cannot you enjoy the sight of a forbidden mystery from Heaven? Must you long to be consumed by its flame?"

"Do you truly believe that the flame of the Forbidden Star would consume us?" Armen calmly challenged.

The other two paused, somewhat shocked. Armen continued.

"I would think that the flame of the Forbidden Star would not need to be forbidden if it could do us any real harm. Would not the terror of the flame itself be enough to keep us from it? Why would the One add forbiddance to danger?"

"Perhaps because He loves us. Shouldn't danger be sufficient reason to make something forbidden?" Uriel's question was more of an answer, though he wondered whether Armen understood. Kokabel had his own thoughts, but he said nothing.

"Why would the One create anything that could harm us in the first place? Would He intend to destroy us from the Beginning? If He so intended, He would not have created us in the first place unless He were evil. If He is good, but knew we were evil, He would not have allowed us to open our wings."

"What do you know of evil?" Uriel asked.

Until then, the very concept of evil had not been discussed among the Archine.

"No one could know of evil without knowing its mystery. Why do you know such things?" Uriel inquired further.

"I do not know anything about evil. Merely, evil would be the only reason for creating something so destructive as you claim this Forbidden Star is, of which you admit you know nothing. Surely, if it is as you say, then the One created this star to punish evil. Since we see the judgment of evil in this mysterious star, evil must exist... if the star is actually dangerous..."

"But, you do not believe the Forbidden Star is dangerous..." Kokabel finally interrupted.

"No, I do not, because I am not evil. The One would not summon any of us to be evil, unless He Himself was evil."

"Listen to the madness of your words, Armen, tenth born of the Archine," Uriel retorted. "You claim that the One must be evil to make evil, but then claim that you are not evil, but then imply that the One is evil. You contradict yourself multiple times, as if you were a star without course."

"Unless..." Armen gazed at Uriel as a serpent stalks its prey. His persona had completely changed. Uriel and Kokabel would have been alarmed by Armen's reversed composure, but they had never seen this behavior before, so they had no thought of the warning it presented. "...the One is indeed evil and also made you to be evil as well."

"So, if what you say is true," Kokabel deducted as if he had become a student under Armen's tutelage, "then the Forbidden Star is not a judgment on us, but a secret power to become like the One Himself."

Uriel stood motionless and unphased.

"Yes..." Armen continued looking back out toward the expanse, "...if the One were evil. But, we all know that He can't be evil. For an evil being cannot create good beings, and we know that we ourselves are good. We have only discussed a theory, and the logical conclusion is, of course, that the One concealed the mystery of the Forbidden Star for some other reason, which we have neither discussed nor understood here."

With that, Armen turned and walked away from the precipice, leaving the other two. Kokabel said nothing, then glanced for an instant at Uriel before going his own way.

That encounter of three brothers revealed much to Uriel, concerning the One's purposes. For the Star of Fire, as it was called thereafter, had revealed its mystery to Uriel. Armen could not have conjured these ideas unless evil existed within him. Armen foolishly assumed that his quick agreement with Uriel, just before parting, had concealed his purpose.

But, Uriel was alerted. Armen loved the appearance of light, ignoring the strength behind it, in this he presumed that he himself could not be evil. He was drawn to such benevolence, yet remained dispassionate toward the light's efforts against malevolence. Inwardly, Armen blamed the One for withholding any mystery from him at all. It never occurred to him that the One, in His love for all, had given wings to all Angels, even those among the Archine which He knew were evil, to allow them fair chance to prove whether the choice of their contract had been permanent.

But, none of Armen's deceit eluded Uriel. Before that day, Uriel knew that the Star of Fire was harmful to Angels, but had not known why. Now, seeing that Armen was both evil and desiring of the mystery which could cause his own destruction, he saw that the One had designed the star to punish only those who had their hearts set on coveting their own judgment. All the One needed to do was forbid souls from their accepting their own punishment. Then, only the deserving would ever be rightly punished.

Uriel felt a surge of the energy, like the rush that comes with knowledge. He looked over to his right and saw an Ophan approaching, a wheeled Ophannin. He looked at the Ophan and knew: He had watched and discerned enough to be given knowledge. It was time to learn the mystery of the Forbidden Star of Fire.

Suddenly, he found himself in a vast expanse with pillars of fire descending upon seven imprisoned globes of light. He was having a vision from the Ophan; he could see inside the Forbidden Star—and he saw the globes from which the Cherubim had refused to come forth in their rejection of justice through patience.

But, only Uriel saw. Armen and Kokabel had already left.

* * * * *

"Do you not fear what was said in Uriel's presence?" Kokabel asked.

"Why should we fear? The Archine were created as stewards who seek truth. Should we not inquire?"

"But, Armen, dear brother, your questions seem to accuse the One, without testimony or witness."

"Come, come, dear brother. We were only speaking in theory. Theory of evil, taken to extreme, proves that there is only good in the expanse. There is no harm in speaking of evil as theory."

But, Armen's "theory" was no theory at all. He intended to sow doubt into the mind of his younger brother.

"But, what of the Ophannin yet to come?"

"Yet to come? You mean there are more Ophannin?" Armen was startled.

"Yes. Part of the law of the Heavens is that some of the Ophannin shall be set aside. This is why some of the Heavenly bodies remain a mystery."

"So, stars that remain still have the breath of life in them?"

"Yes, all except the Star of Fire, which you love so. They are as globes, pure as crystal and radiate with light, as if by will they seek only to reflect light given by the One and not light of their own."

"What is the purpose of this?" Armen asked.

"We do not know the full intention of the One in anything He decides. However, consider the law."

"In what way?" Armen asked.

"Ophannin were created before we were. They governed our souls as we were given substance. So, they had an opinion of us before we were made."

"They have a bias," Armen said.

"Exactly. And, if more Ophannin were to come forth after our we opened our wings..."

"...they would bear witness to our deeds, without predisposition."

The two Archine brothers looked about as if they stood already condemned, reflecting on these thoughts for the first time.

"The One is preparing testimony against us," Armen said.

"He would only do this if He foresaw that we had some evil intent," Kokabel added.

"But, how could the One foresee our deeds? He must think we have evil dormant within us, but that simply cannot be."

This question from Armen was unusual. It was normal for him to doubt the capabilities of the One. Armen thought lesser than he ought to of all beings, including the One who granted the very life by which Armen questioned Him. Typically when inquiring, Armen had a deceptive purpose, though he would never admit to himself that he had any within him. Deception deceives itself first, if nothing else to its own futility. This time, Armen doubted not only the One's ability to foresee the deeds of the Archine, but also His ability to foresee evil. It was not because he doubted the abilities of the One so much as he refused to believe that he himself was truly evil.

"I do not know," Kokabel sighed slowly and regally.

"He does not. He can't. If the One doubts our goodness, and it is clear that He does, then it proves to me that He is truly evil. For no loving father would create an evil child willingly. The One is evil. He is the source of mystery and conflict. He must be outsmarted and overthrown."

"But, He is has all power in the expanse. He brought forth the Ophannin who can see all things. Surely the Giver of Sight has more sight than any created being."

"He will not succeed in giving life to these Ophannin. Because he is evil, he is therefore weak. He can be overthrown and we must do it."

Kokabel paused to gather his words. "I do no disagree with you, dear brother. But, I do not know how we can. Overthrow the One?"

In all this, the thought of repentance or changing their life course never occurred to either of them. Had it been suggested, they would have said that the One should Himself repent because they genuinely believed themselves to be good and that they were created by an evil Creator God.

While Kokabel's downfall began as the two stood at the edge of the precipice and gazed at the Forbidden Star of Fire with Uriel, now with this conversation, he guaranteed his downfall to hasten. Whether one actually finds a way to accomplish a purpose is not nearly as important as the determination toward the purpose itself. That was all Armen sought: Kokabel _wanted_ to overthrow the One.

"Tell me more of the law of the constellations," Armen said, seeming to change the topic.

"What do you want to know?"

"When a being remains dormant, as a star, just as the sleeping Ophannin now are..."

"Yes?"

"...can they be reasoned with?"

"They are dormant. So, I do not know how anyone could reason with them. They are a mystery."

"Do they move?"

"Slightly."

"If they move then they are not a complete mystery. Why do you know about them?"

"I have been taught about their existence in my study of the constellations. They are intended to strengthen the foundation of the Heaven one day, so, the other Ophannim often consider them."

"Where are they kept?"

"Only in darkness."

"They see no light?"

"None."

"Why?"

"The Ophannim did not reveal."

"Remember, whatever is forbidden must have a reason. If the One forbade us from a light that would destroy us, then He must have forbidden the sleeping Ophannim from seeing light for fear that it would destroy them."

Armen thought these things because his mind was bent on destruction. However, it never occurred to him that the One may have held deeper reasons for keeping some Ophannim asleep.

Before the first Ophan was given form, they existed as globes themselves. Armen did not know this, of course. He had never seen globes in their pre-waking sleep. Neither had Kokabel, save the seven sleeping Ophannim, which slept where there is no light. The Human globes slept within the rainbow around the Throne, but Armen had no knowledge of this as the Ophannim had not revealed this either.

To Armen, the rainbow around the Throne was no more than a rainbow—one of the many beauties of the Heaven that seemed to have no explanation other than Armen's assumption that the One liked "pretty and useless ornaments". Actually, that rainbow would eventually lead to Armen's own self-undoing.

If either of these Archine brethren had recognized a globe sleeping in the light, they would learn the mystery of tears. Archine did not cry. So they did not know that globes who covet the light glow in the twilight and are dark in both night and day. Both Kokabel and Armen coveted the light, otherwise they would not have sought to overthrow the One who brought them forth.

Blinded by their own lust to control light, they could not see that this would lead them toward their end.

Armen and Kokabel had assumed that these sleeping Ophannin would bear witness against them in the future. And, they would. If awakened at the improper time, they might completely absorb Luminaries, such as Armen and Kokabel. That itself would have been a judgement against Luminaries.

But in their jealousy and ignorance, Armen and Kokabel would not leave well enough alone.

"What shall we do, then?" Kokabel asked.

"Easy. The One does not want them to see light. So, we shall show them light."

And, that is exactly what they did. With Kokabel's knowledge of Heavenly law, the two brothers redirected a star under Kokabel's care to carry them and enter the space of the sleeping Ophannim. As they did, the Ophannin globes gave glistening tears.

"Are they dying?" Kokabel asked. He did not understand that tears reveal with neither spirit nor words.

"I assume so," Armen lectured. "For I have never seen any being give water when it was acted upon. Where did this water come from? And, why does this water give back the same light of the star that bears us? The light must have killed them. The One must have known that we would do this. He thinks we will fear the Star of Fire after seeing how light destroyed these Ophannim in water. But, I am sure that the Star of Fire contains some other mystery which holds the secret to overthrowing the One so we can take His place."

The Archine Princes could not have been more mistaken. Kokabel had been shown some of the mystery of the star they sailed, but not all. For its purpose ran much deeper than to merely illuminate, it was also created to testify. They never knew their star was always meant to carry them thence.

Thinking they had exhausted their failed efforts, Armen and Kokabel set their sailing star to return to its course and left the Ophannim weeping in darkness.

* * * * *

"The sleeping Ophannim have given tears." All the Ophannin saw and understood. "They have seen the contract with Darkness and given tears over the Archine."

Deep beneath the plane of glass, where the sleeping Ophannim slept and wept, light began to shine. It came from the One. They soon shined light among each other. The light slowly grew brighter and brighter. One by one, the Archine began to see this great light building deep beneath their glass plane.

Then, the Son came forth from within the One and was seen by the Archine for the first time.

"Who is this who proceeds from the One," the Archine asked among themselves.

"I AM, I ALWAYS WAS, and I ALWAYS WILL BE," came a voice from the Son. His own body of light proceeded with him as the One and His body of light remained seated on the Throne.

As the Son proceeded out from the Throne, all the Angels of the Heaven saw that the light being given to the waking Ophannim did not proceed directly from the One, but came by way of the Son. The Son then gazed down, through the plane of glass, toward the waking Ophannim. Then, arrows of light came from both of his eyes.

The waking Ophannim shined even brighter and began to spread out for millions of miles, by the measure of Man and Angel. Their path began forming one large globe of light from the bottom up, enclosing the entire plane of glass and all the Angels therein. Their light ascended upward and upward, out and around the plane until it closed above and the Heaven of Heavens was surrounded by one, large web of light arrows shining from one recently-awoken Ophan to the next.

Then, light came from the Ophanim at the outer rim and pierced each of the Archine. Lightning flashed all throughout the Heaven and the Archine were stunned, locked in a trance. Their shoulders, wings, and heads falling back as if they were being lifted by their hearts. Light along their centers began to shine through their bodies as they were elevated a few cubits above the plane, hovering in space.

After a mere moments, they looked out from their shock and saw that the One and the Son had clear and solid bodies in the form of Man. Still, none of the Angels knew who or what Man was.

"Had the One been changed by the waking Ophannim?" the Archine thought. "What is this new solid body?" The Archine found that, for the first time, their wings could give them flight. They began to soar through the space in the Heaven above the plane of glass.

"No," said the Son. "It is you who have been given form so that I AM clearer to thine sight."

In their surprise, the Archine had not yet noticed that they themselves had been given new form. Armen appeared as a giant serpent with six wings, and serpents in that time were considered beautiful to behold. Other Archine bore the resemblance of various beasts and birds. Cherubin remained in their form, as did the Seraphin. But, now the Archine, like the Ophannin, had been given a second form they could take, one that reflected Life and Work yet to come in the expanse.

This was the Second Waking of Archine, the creation of the Spiritual Plane, the third plane. It proceeded from the Plane of Choice, when the globes had contracted with the Timeline, when the first Angels woke in the Heaven, where life was first granted to them by the One. After this Second Waking, the One was known to the Archine as the Lord of Spirits. He was their Lord, the One who first granted them Spirits with wings that could not only cover, but also could fly; and He had given them eyes that not only shine, but could behold Him as He is to them.

The Natural Plane, where the Image of the One would first breath, remained yet unknown to any of the Angels, neither the Archine nor the Seraphim nor Cherubim, and not even to the Ophannim themselves.
**Song**

In the Heaven of Heavens, singing and praise continued before the Lord of Spirits without end or intermission, for Heaven had not yet found reason for silence. Heaven gives rain and snow, but knows them not. So, the ceiling of the Heaven was open to show the constellations as they sailed through the expanse above. The Angels needed no song leader, for their praise would follow as the Lord of Spirits revealed new wisdom through the order of the expanse. As the constellations sailed across the Heaven's ceiling, Angels understood His design as beauty unfolded in the cosmos. To Angels, especially the Seraphim, gazing upon the course of a comet gave reason to sing for a thousand years.

* * * * *

Armen spoke with one of the Seraphim in the outer courts.

It was not uncommon to see an Archine Prince talking with one of the other Angels. And this, especially, did not seem unusual since Armen was Prince over the Seraphin at that time. Had Uriel been in sight however, he would have suspected something. He and Kokabel knew of Armen's deceitful tongue. Though Kokabel was inclined toward the same deviance as Armen, Armen waited until Kokabel had gone his way—to watch the constellations and read the intention of where their courses might lead, as Kokabel often did.

So, the two Angels spoke, Armen and the Seraph. Other than the two of them, only the Ophannim were aware of what was said.

"What do you think of the songs today?" Armen asked the female Seraph.

Mystery was her name, as well as her reputation. "Ought I think anything out of the usual? It was glorious as any other day."

"Of course it was. Sorry for sounding so silly. That is what I mean, actually. What do you think of the song from day to day?"

"Why do you ask the opinion of a Seraph who is lower than yourself?" Mystery's response seemed defensive on the surface, but that was part of her mysterious nature.

Armen's question was slanderous because it was unnecessary. Perfection cannot improve and the Angelic assembly was without complaint from any Angel. Had even one Angel complained, an investigation might have been warranted. But, there had been no injustice in the Heaven except the theft of light from sleeping globes before the great Contracting and, more recently, Armen's accusing questions.

Eventually, he would teach righteous Humans to question each other's honesty without reason, under the guises of "transparency" and "brotherhood". From the beginning, Armen used such questions to sow seeds of doubt.

But, he caused no new trouble on this day. In truth, Mystery had doubted the goodness of Angelic assembly herself, though she had never spoken of it before. So, when she appeared to be defensive of Armen's question, it was to conceal her own agreement and keep the blame on Armen.

Of course, Armen also knew her tactics and he admired her for them. For such manipulative ways were in the personality of the serpentine Seraphim. Though many flowed and flittered with beauty and goodness, the Luminaries among them, who coveted the light, were cunning and treacherous. This was the first time any of their evil intentions had been shared with each other. And, that was Armen's intent: To hold the first Seraphin fellowship of evil.

"Well, good. You seem to have your thinking straight." With that, Armen smiled, gave a peaceful nod, and flew away.

If ever there was a moment when Mystery knew another Angel shared her thoughts, it was at that moment. She had felt lonely in her jealousy of the very light she shone, but not anymore. Perhaps there was another Angel with evil intentions. Temptation itself is not a crime. But, rather than feeling tempted by the Darkness, she felt encouraged by it.

* * * * *

A thousand years had passed since Armen roused the evil intent of Kokabel and revealed light to the sleeping Ophannim. Five Hundred years had passed since Armen posed unfounded questions to accuse the Angelic assembly with Mystery. Those were the only fellowships of evil in the first millennium of Angels. Heaven did not seek to stop the Luminaries from their rebellion because, though they did not repent of their accusations against the Lord of Spirits, they diluted their evil intent with a thousand years of righteousness in all else that they did.

And, what was there to do in the Heaven other than to sing?

"Armen, my Prince, I have a question for you?" Mystery asked in the outer halls of the Heaven.

"So long as it is a righteous question," Armen responded.

"Why shouldn't it be?" she said.

Armen paused to read her countenance. Both Angels had successfully accused each other through unwarranted suspicion. Other Angels would not have recognized the problem of accusation because the Heaven had not yet known the any Accuser. But, Armen and Mystery did not object because, as Luminaries, they were both Accusers of light. They walked through the halls of the Heaven with accusation and suspicion in their hearts. This was their way of revealing their nature as Accusers, while hiding it in plain sight. For only another Accuser would welcome the idea of being accused in the name of brotherhood.

So, Armen did not answer Mystery. That itself was his answer to her implied question: Are you also an Accuser? By ignoring her without objection, his answer was: Yes, we both are.

"Ask," he said. "I am your Prince. You can trust me."

"I have been thinking about the question you asked me five hundred years ago," Mystery smiled.

Armen remembered. "Yes. It pleases me that you consider my question worthy to ponder. Have you found any answer?"

"No. But, I have thought of other questions since."

"So, you have been thinking deeply."

"Oh, yes."

"I am more interested in your conclusions than in your questions."

Mystery paused for a few moments and studied Armen's face. "I am thinking that the assembly is in disorder," she said.

"What makes you say so?" Armen did not reassure her for asking such a question. Both of them already knew that they were in rebellion together—he was merely pressing her to express it. "Does praise not increase in splendor with each day?" Armen continued.

"Yes, but it seems out of balance," Mystery replied.

"Out of balance?"

"The splendor of the praise is ever more glorious each day, but the Glory of the Lord of Spirits always increases with it."

"What is wrong with that," Armen probed as an attorney leading a witness.

"Because, my Prince, the Glory of the Lord of Spirits always remains greater than the praise that the Angels give Him. Should we not offer something to Him that is of benefit? Should we not offer something that He does not have?"

"You are right in your concern." Armen pretended to console her as a seducer lures its victim. Armen wanted to become like the Lord of Spirits and so he, too, coveted the fact that the Glory of the Lord of Spirits was always more splendid than his own song.

Armen continued, "A true leader should welcome praise greater than himself. But, the Lord of Spirits is always greater and we remain less worthy than He. If only there was something that could be done..."

Knowing full well that she was being led, Mystery played along, "Oh, I may have an idea."

"Really?"

"Yes, it was one of my questions."

"You do not need to keep your ideas from me. I am your friend."

"It is why I thought that the assembly seemed out of balance."

"You mentioned that."

"The praise from Angels is sporadic and unguided. It flows in many directions without predictability. Perhaps, if we were to rehearse and work under a leader of song, the quality of our song might reach beyond the Glory of the Lord of Spirits. Then we would have a worthy gift to give Him."

"What do you suggest?" Armen asked. "Perhaps it is something we can do together."

"You are a worthy Prince. You could lead the assembly in praise and it would find unity and direction."

"But, I should never be so presumptuous as to step out from my fellow Archine Princes." Armen knew that if he initiated open rebellion against the Lord of Spirits, he would draw too much attention to himself. The assembly would suspect him. Moreover, he thought it unwise to begin battle before he had opportunity to learn the deeper secrets of the Star of Fire. Mystery, however, would be seen as innocent. "Why don't you? I would gaylily sing according to your direction. I am sure many would."

"But, me? I'm merely Seraphin!" Mystery exclaimed, placing her hand over her heart in a state of genuine shock. "I could not handle the mass of the Angels looking at me, nor would I know how to direct them."

"Why not begin with rehearsals?" Armen said lightly. "We could have reason for a smaller assembly and meet as a group. I shall sponsor you if need be."

"You would?" Mystery said with a bounce in her voice.

"Of course, but only on the condition that you take all the credit. That is what friends do. We can achieve anything as long as we have each other."

Mystery smiled.

"Recruit your singers and start your rehearsals. If anyone says anything," Armen paused, then a twinkle sparkled in his eye, "you send them to me."

Over the next thousand years, Angels began rehearsing their praise. It was a small group and only Luminaries were interested in attending Mystery's choir rehearsals. The other Angels—who would come to call themselves _Separate_ , just as the Lord of Spirits is _separate_ —would not rehearse their praise, but saved it as an overflow from their hearts. The Separate and the Luminaries were not yet known to each other as different, but they could have been.

Because the Separate Angels praised so often, they needed no training. And, because their hearts were filled with new reason for praise every morning, they cared nothing for the rehearsed praise of Mystery's direction. But, even if they had known that they were already divided, it would have made no difference. Their choice had already been made.

* * * * *

"Brother!" came a joyful call from across the outer court.

"Gabriel," Armen returned. "What news from the expanse under your watch?"

"Enlightening as always."

The two Archine Princes met half way and greeted each other with big, Archine hugs before turning to stroll side by side.

"What do you think of Mystery's choir?" Armen asked Gabriel.

"If it is in the hearts of Seraphim to use their song in this way, then the Lord of Spirits be praised!"

"I was hoping you might consider watching a rehearsal. You could even invite some of the Powers and Forces to join her."

"The Archine have much work. I don't know they have time for choir practice. Besides, there is no reason for them to take time to rehearse the praise which flows beautifully from their hearts. Though, it makes sense for Seraphim to do so, if that is what they want."

"Sure. But, you could at least watch a rehearsal yourself."

Gabriel didn't even need to think about it. Armen was his brother. They were the only two of the Princes who headed legions of Angels and they often shared fellowship.

"Certainly," Gabriel said. "They should be starting now, if I am not mistaken."

"You have been watching closely, brother. Can you join?"

"I have work, but it can wait."

The two Princes strolled into a side chamber. The room was full of light and several Seraphim stood waiting, talking as students before a class.

Mystery stood at the front, "Gabriel, we are glad you came."

The Archine Prince smiled, but avoided stealing the spotlight. He stayed at the back, leaning against the wall with his hands behind his back, one foot up against the wall, standing on the other. He was relaxed, unguarded, braced, and drew no attention to himself.

"Let us begin." Mystery raised her hands as she faced the small assembly.

Gabriel had never seen an organized troupe of Angels before. When he led the Powers en masse, his back was turned to them and they followed. He led by example, not by pointing his hands. And, since Angels of the Heaven needed no discipline, there had been no need for inspection.

The Seraphim began to sing. The sound and light of their song filled the chamber and began to circle around Mystery. Gabriel had never before seen this kind of unusual light. It was beautiful, thick, and glowed. Though, and he couldn't say why, something seemed foreign to him about it.

The rehearsal continued for hours as they repeated the same song again and again, exactly the same each time. Once in a while, Mystery would stop the singing to correct a mistake. Gabriel had never heard of a "mistake" made in praise. Mystery celebrated precise conformity and paused to correct a Seraph if he sang with any difference from the rest.

After the rehearsal, when and all the Seraphim, including Mystery, had left, Armen and Gabriel stood alone in the chamber beneath the circling cosmos.

"What did you think?" Armen asked his brother.

"The song was beautiful, I will surely admit that. But, something troubles me..."

"What, dear brother?"

"When we worship the Lord of Spirits and give Him our praise, His face is the only face we see. Even the Cherubim bow their heads as they face away from the Throne during our assembly."

"But, should the sight of a second face be such a problem if it increases the quality of our praise?" Armen responded.

"Maybe it is not a problem. But, my heart does not yearn for it. When I sing to the Lord of Spirits, I want to see only His face and no other."

"Perhaps the choir that follows Mystery could be in a different location, so as not to distract you."

"But, our praise comes from the flow of our hearts. It is as uniform as clouds among the cosmos—many kinds and similarities, yet ever new, each one unique, and its only order is Chaos."

Ah, Chaos... the great enemy of Armen and the Luminaries. Michael is the Prince of Chaos. Since the Ophannim first instructed the Archine, the Son chose to place Chaos in his care. While some Angels may have stewardship of a single star or constellation, Michael can alter the methods of their voyage through the cosmos. The size and nature of waves, the flux of the breeze, footprints in space align themselves according to will of the One, yet fall under Michael's governance. Chaos bears his will and persona, in both strength and beauty. Chaos is unique and willful, just as it was designed to be.

He did not create Chaos nor does he dictate it externally with force; he commands it from within by Oath. The One first cast the vision and the Ophannim saw the stars to their places among the expanse. But, as more willed beings awoke in the Heaven, more beauty expressed itself throughout the expanse. Chaos was one reason for this. Of the many Angels, including the Cherubim, Michael alone can reorder the Chaos as he sees fit. He can lead it because he is not antagonistic toward it. In fact, he was entrusted with the Oath to move Chaos by the Son for this reason.

At the Contracting, when the Ophannim witnessed the agreement willful globes made with Darkness, the Son then chose Michael. While Darkness had its agreement with the Luminaries, so did the Light have its agreement with the Separate Angels. The Darkness gave its power and the Light gave His.

Armen knew that Chaos would never allow him to rule over the galaxies and constellations that sailed their way across the Heaven's ceiling. He saw them every day and all he could do was watch and cohabitate. He could not even anticipate their changes.

Chaos was unpredictable. Everything must be brought to uniform order before Armen could rule it. This was a deeper motive for why he allowed Mystery to direct a choir of Seraphim under his care: It would begin to remove some of the Chaos from the praise of Angels. For the Chaos of Angels was never governed by Michael or even the Lord of Spirits. Willful souls, whether Angelic or Human, can only abandon their beautiful Chaos and conform if they do so willingly.

"Do you not think that Chaos is a problem, though?" Armen responded.

"Not at all. It has its own order, yet flows freely. This is the creative Majesty of the Lord of Spirits, that He caused the song of free will to be reflected in the cosmos, first from the Ophannim, and that, accordingly, each of us are similar, yet unique; we are individual and yet designed. It is our free will which grants us beauty, each in kind, and it is why He cherishes each of us so. Since my will is His greatest treasure, and He is my greatest treasure, there is no greater reason for which I would give up uniqueness."

"Not even to improve our song and offer the Lord of Spirits something more than we do now?"

"That was my other concern, dear brother. The Lord of Spirits has my heart and my love. These cannot be rehearsed. Once rehearsed, love is lost. Our love is perfect. Perfection cannot be improved upon nor does it need to be."

"But, the Glory of the Lord of Spirits remains unmatched by our praise. Surely our Chaos is not worthy to give Him due praise," Armen said. "It would be better to offer Him the work of our own hands, rather than our free reflection of His own Glory."

"The Glory of the Lord of Spirits is the source of our light, which we sing back to Him. If our praise was equal to His own splendor, then our hearts would not be refracting His light, but such light would come from another source—a lesser source borrowing light from tomorrow's song. Then, however splendid our song today, it would diminish."

"I am not satisfied with my song of praise. I want to improve it before I give it to Him," Armen said.

"Do not despise your own song, brother. The Lord of Spirits finds our song pleasing to behold. We do not need to become more worthy. He is worthy to receive and He is glad to receive from us, including you. And, it is my honor to praise Him beside you."

"I hope, with time, you may come to see things differently, dear brother."

And in time, Gabriel would. For Armen and Gabriel loved each other as brothers, but they each loved something else more. Gabriel loved the Lord of Spirits, while Armen loved no one's glory but his own.

Though Armen had Contracted with the Darkness in his sleeping heart, he only sought to exploit its powers for himself. He was in a battle between foes greater than himself and neither knew nor cared that he was being first made of light and had thus sided against his very foundation of existence. If Armen could ever overthrow the One then he himself would cease to exist. But, he couldn't. No one could overthrow the One.

Armen could only covet what he could not have. He coveted the Darkness almost as much as he coveted the Light. He only coveted the Light more because it was stronger, and for this Armen hated the Light most of all.

* * * * *

Two millennia had passed since the One gave wings and voice to the souls of Angels. Each day was new and His Glory increased. Seraphim tended to Him night and day. Cherubim kept watch without rest and when their hearts so desired, when the Throneroom was most vacant and the Seraphim were occupied, they would turn to the One and bow. Archine came and went as their hearts followed their inner hunger for the Lord of Spirits. And, the chamber of His Throne was filled with His Glory, explained by the free will of the Angels who attended to Him.

Again, the Archine trickled into the Throneroom, Seraphim fully in flight above the Throne. Masses spread beyond the visible sight of Angels. Praise and light burst forth from the assembly as magnetic prominences of great star. The rainbow around the Throne glistened like an emerald. As the assembly reached its fullness of song, the sound of light spiraled upward into the orbiting cosmos above the open ceiling of the Throneroom.

Half of the day passed as the Glory of the Lord of Spirits swam through the Angelic assembly. Then it happened...

Armen, who was hovering in front of the Throne in his usual place among the other eleven Archine Princes, caught a glimpse of Mystery's eye. He nodded ever so slightly, his face peaceful and reassuring. Swimming through the air at the front, she and her choir descended to the foot of the Throne. Mystery turned about to face the assembly, raised her hands, and directed her choir.

Never before had "war" existed in Glory, but it made its first appearance in song. The glowing light that sang from of Mystery's choir clashed with the organic praise of the Angels en masse. The light above them changed. While their song was a brilliant glow in their practice chamber, it appeared as an intelligent Darkness before the Throne.

Instead of their serpentine bodies reflecting Glory from the Lord of Spirits on the Throne, they also became dark. This change of lighting among the choir of Mystery was as dreadful to the Angels as a baby with no face or limbs when born to a Human mother and father.

A squirming, writhing darkness swelled in the midst of the assembly of Angels, immediately surrounding Mystery. Archine and Seraphim began, one by one, to turn and look to the darkening nebula for understanding. What was the source of this talonous cloud in the presence of Glory?

As they looked toward the blackening cloud and to the Throne of Glory beyond, for the first time in their praise to the Lord of Spirits, they saw not one, but two faces. One face towered above them in fierce peace, clothed in Majesty, seated surely on the Throne. The other stood just a little above the assembly and sought to direct their praise.

Gabriel was furious and ordered the Cherubim to turn about and face the Throne. As they turned in obedience to their Prince, they bowed in praise of the Lord of Spirits by their own free will. For He alone was worthy of praise and Cherubin would enforce by example, though, their praise was private and it was uncommon for them to bow to the Lord of Spirits while there were so many witnesses.

There the Cherubin stood in worship during the rebellion of song and light, their oxen and lion faces seen on either side, their faces of Man looking downward, and their eagle faces atop their heads looking directly at the Lord of Spirits. Then, from the mouths of their eagle faces, they called the call of an eagle in praise. On that day, the call of eagles was heard for the first time throughout the courts of the Heaven.

Michael, seeing what developed, leaped up from his place and flew across the Throneroom of the Heaven, above the assembly, leaving a steaming trail of cloud behind him as he went. He landed before the foot of the Throne, kneeling with his monstrous body, stretching out his wide wings upward to block the dark cloud.

All through the assembly, while all Angels continued to shine white, the light of one Angel in three turned pale as they gave tears of horrendous darkness. This included Seraphim and all levels of Archine, including five of the twelve Princes, Armen and Kokabel among them.

Angels had never given tears before that day, nor would they give tears another day before the End of the Beginning. But, when those Angels could not halt the transformation of own their bodies which gave form to the covetous darkness—long ago contracted within them—the Luminaries mourned for themselves as dark tears streamed down their paling faces. For the first time in two millennia, the difference between Luminaries and Separate Angels became plain. There was neither doubt nor remaining choice. Even the Angels themselves could not understand what was happening to them nor why they appeared as they did, for their choices had been made before they woke in the Heaven. Now, even their own wills they could not hide from their brethren as they acted upon their hidden ambition in the presence of the Glory of the One.
**Solution**

Conflict brewed in the Heaven throughout the third millennium of Angels. They split between two factions, the light and the glowing. The light were also known as the "Separate" and the dim-glowing became known as "Luminaries", "Darkened", and "Accusers".

The Luminaries could no longer give praise to the Lord of Spirits. Just as their bodies became dark in His presence, so also their song of praise came forth darkened. Day after day, year after year, century after century, they walked past each other in friendship, not knowing why they had become different.

It was in this third millennium that the Luminaries began to accuse not only each other, and not only their Separate Archine brethren, but also, toward the end of the millennium, they even began to accuse the Lord of Spirits.

Through those times, Angels of the Heaven sought understanding. Their comrades, their friends—their own brethren appeared differently, ever since Mystery's first song. While they were different outwardly, it took time for the Angels to see that the outward difference reflected a deeper and meaningful difference within. Angels did not judge by appearances and they had not yet known how evil the heart can be. While the Separate did not condemn their brethren for being darkened, they became more and more dissatisfied in their work.

Desperate for new ranks, the darkened Archine Princes promoted other Archine Powers to be Princes among them. They often went by the title "Lussiver", meaning "light keeper", though Semjaza was known by this pseudonymous title most notoriously, at least at first. Semjaza, as firstborne among those who had become Luminaries, was their leader.

Azazel, one of the Powers whom Semjaza promoted, had knowledge of metals and materials. So, he fashioned tools in the likeness of the tools held by the Cherubim. Though he was a darkened Angel, Azazel's wisdom had come from the Ophannim and, since his craftsmanship originated in the Heaven, his tools were worthy to be carried by the Separate Angels as well. Though he masterfully crafted tools in the likeness of the Cherubin tools which crafted the Heaven's halls, he never knew that they were meant as tools for building. In fact, he was never sure what they were for, except that the Archine seemed more glorious holding tools like the Cherubim held.

Armen, however, had his suspicions. While he did not yet understand tools of war, he knew that Cherubin tools might be used to exercise great strength over others. This was his tactic: to provoke Michael to somehow use the tools against Luminaries and, thus, fuel further accusation from the Accusers. However, Michael, having power over Chaos, had no use for such tools. So, he refused to wield any tool. This frustrated Azazel's war mongering and Armen grew impatient.

Accusation became Armen's weapon and the Luminaries followed him. Sorrow mounted until the Lord of Spirits rose up one of the Separate Archine Powers from beneath Remiel—Phanuel, who answered the Accusers.

Night and day, Phanuel took up his place before the Throne and the Accusers feared him. From his joy and laughter was birthed sarcasm, fierce against Accusers, yet ineffective in accusation of the righteous. Armen and the other Accusers hated this above all else and their spite was given to Phanuel thereafter.

Sarcasm was originally rooted in love and trust—to take someone's opinion seriously and thus give it a fair hearing. Accusers tried to copy Phanuel, but could only feign a cynical sort of sarcasm. But, cynical sarcasm was not strong against the sarcasm of love.

In the Heaven, Phanuel would speak and the Accusesrs were speechless. He exposed their own intentions through trust; he exposed their contradictions without attacking their folly and all who harkened in the court of the Lord of Spirits understood.

This infuriated Armen all the more, though he was never seen opposing the Lord of Spirits outwardly. Armen would talk with the Luminaries in secret, then work in peace and charity with Separate, choosing times and places so that his kindness would be witnessed by many Angels.

It was Armen himself who delivered Azazel's Cherubin tools to the Archine. Armen became known as the darkened Angel who befriended Michael and the others. This delayed conflict, allowing Armen to bide his time as the Separate Angels pondered the nature of this darkness wandering freely in the Heaven. Ironically, the Cherubin tools of building would become tools of war; they were Armen's peace offering. While the Accusers alone made tools of war, they alone made tools of war necessary.

In this millennium the "risers" also became known. It was found that the Lord of Spirits created many globes who were borne into lower positions and then whose reputations would become like lightening in the expanse above the Heaven, forever to remain as such. Remiel was the Prince over them. This was a mystery that had not been revealed until this time of turmoil.

When the risers began to ascend their places among their brethren and the expanse, the Separate Angels welcomed them. These risers eventually took courses of their own. Many would sail long voyages among the constellations, even causing stars to alter their courses, even if only slightly. This also gave reason for wonder and was the source of many Archine praises of the Lord of Spirits.

And, this frustrated Armen ever and ever more. He had no control over the changes during this age of turmoil—not over Chaos nor risers nor could he make weapons comparable to Azazel's, and there was no way to silence Phanuel, whom he despised as much as Chaos if not more. In his anger, he still maintained the calmest and kindest of manners among Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, Phanuel, and the other Separate Angels.

He wanted not merely war, but desolation of the Separate Archine, power over the Cherubim, praise from the Seraphim, destruction of the One, and to enlighten the Ophannim. But, without the ability to completely distract Heaven with accusation, with Michael refusing to take up weapons against the Luminaries, and not being able to understand the intentions of the courses of constellations, Armen stewed and frothed in secret as tension and dissent expanded through the Heaven of Heavens.

Without Armen's calm demeanor, war may have escalated sooner, the Luminaries have lost more swiftly, and the damage have been greatly reduced. Calmness was Armen's last weapon. He waited to draw-out the war because he never saw a way to win.

* * * * *

As war brewed in the halls of the Heaven, the Ophannim held counsel.

"What should be done about this disturbance among the lower Angels?" one of them asked.

"Should anything be done?" responded Tsuyoshi in his six-winged phoenix form. His voice had a quiet, yet rich echo among the Ophannim. "Evil has already begun to eradicate itself—as we knew would happen."

"But, while the Luminaries self-destruct, they are taking the Heaven and the expanse with them," the sphinx interjected. "We cannot allow evil to pass away in such manner that will destroy all that is good. Something must be done!"

"We foresaw the destructive consequences of Luminaries' choices," Mimi said. "Now, their Separate brethren understand the problem as well."

"Yes, and we permitted wings to bear the souls of Luminaries so their brethren would understand the reasons behind their destruction," added the sphinx-like Ophan.

"That time has not yet come," Tsuyoshi spoke more loudly, his voice resonating from all directions. "Though the Separate Angels understand the problem of Luminaries' contract with evil, they have not yet seen how far evil's reach will touch with destruction. Justice demands that all sentiency of Light bear witness to the depth of evil before all sentient evil is punished."

"Then what is to be done next?" the first Ophan asked again. "The Angels are in gridlock. The Luminaries cannot advance and the Separate will not retaliate. Should the Darkness and Light face each other at a standoff forever?"

"Yes," Tsuyoshi continued. "Something shall be done: We must find a place where the Luminaries can expand."

"You suggest increasing the range of this conflict?" a griffin-like Ophan stepped toward the center as he spoke. "Strife already fills the Heaven of Heavens. Is that not enough?"

"The One will make all things new," the phoenix-like Ophan explained. "Besides, if this standoff continues, discord will reach every corner of the cosmos in its own time, even Tartarus. By permitting the battle to expand out of the Heaven, we control through time and space to restore order to the home of those Angels who welcomed the Light."

"Good," said the sphinx. "And, in doing so, we can ensure that only the Luminaries are first to depart from the Heaven."

"The Separate Angels will give chase once the Luminaries are bound to a new terrain," the griffin noted. "The place of battle should shift to that smaller field where it will grow more intense and finish more quickly."

"But, what such place exists?" asked Mimi. "Surely we must find this place before giving breath to the Human globes."

"The Human realm is the place," the Son spoke at last. "It was decided before any awoke, even you Ophannim."

"What?" Tsuyoshi asked. "How can they endure the vice grip of Darkness?"

"They cannot," said the Son. "That is why it must be them. The expanse can contain the Darkness, though the Darkness would fill them, but Humans cannot long endure evil. They, just as all sentient globes, were created for and by My Light. But, their inheritance is not in the Heaven. Crushed long enough by Darkness's desire for control, Humans will perish. So, their frailty is their advantage over it."

"How can we allow the Humans to perish in Darkness?" Mimi began to sob. "They have done nothing to deserve such suffering."

"Nor will the Humans deserve the great strength that victory shall grant them," the Son continued. "In their brokenness, evil shall fail like a hall built on sand. Yet, Humans shall revive and the Separate Angels will thank them."

Mimi looked at the Son with wide, wanting eyes as her sorrow lifted.

The Son continued, "Whereas the Angels were borne at once, the Humans shall bear one another as children. Though they were always peers from the beginning, by exchanging roles of parents and children, teaching each other, young and old, they will learn of my love for them and of the love they can have for me and for each other. So, WE shall create them male and female for this purpose. Though evil will covet Human family, it will never overpower family that comes from the Heaven."

"Won't evil try to stop or exploit the bearing of children?" the sphinx asked.

"Of course. On the one hand, darkened Angels will teach Men the blows of death and how to smite the babe while it remains in the womb. On the other hand, Armen will establish a genealogy of worshipers with a bloodline. But, we shall set more of the covetous globes to be born earlier in history. As time carries on, those Human souls who do not covet the Light shall increase in number. Many in the bloodline which worships Armen will turn against him when they learn the truth of the redemption I have planned for them."

"Who among the Heavens can be the giver of this redemption?" Mimi pleaded.

"I AM."

"How?" Tsuyoshi asked.

"Where the Angels are borne with wings, Humans shall be born of a mother and father who know each other and the father shall pass on the poison of Darkness to the children. But, I will become one of them, the Son of Man, born of a virgin Human at the will of my Father the One. So, because I will have no Human father, the Darkness will not infect me. I will walk among them so they will not be alone in the Darkness, even before my victory through them."

"How can that be? You are the Son of the One and you neither change not. How can you become Human?"

"Humanity will be made in my Image. In becoming my own Image, I do not change."

"But, will not the dark Luminaries seek to destroy you while you are Human and frail? Will you call the legions of Angels to protect you as they give chase?"

"Luminaries will not be able to harm Humans because Humans will be made in Earth and I will give Humans dominion over it. Earth is their place. The Luminaries themselves will not be able to harm me. So, they will provoke evil Men, equally jealous of my Light, to kill my body, but without justice. At that time, I will forgive my executioners, death itself will self-destruct, and it will do so at the will of the Accusers who created it. So, having sabotaged in Earth their own accusations in the Heaven, they will have no worthy case remaining in any court, whether of the Heaven or of Earth."

"This is indeed a great sacrifice, oh Son of the One," said the sphinx-like Ophan. "But, how can we know that the Luminaries will go to Earth in the first place?"

"That is easy. I shall plant a tree, offering knowledge through eating, rather than working. Whoever eats its fruit shall understand both Light and Darkness, as much as can be understood in his form of that time. For the Humans, their first bodies will begin to decay, but their wills will endure. I will instruct the first man, saying that eating the fruit will result in death and forbid him from doing so. Armen will not be able to resist what is forbidden, even forbidden only to another. He will involve Humanity in the conflict of Light and Darkness and Humanity will be the solution. Humans will make suit, demanding that I act, and my intervention will be warranted by them. Through the death of my body, I will take a second body, since I AM the Resurrection. I will reveal myself and the Humans who trust my Light will overcome the Darkness."

"And, if Armen does not?" the sphinx asked.

"Then Darkness will halt and peace will endure. The tree will be the only way forward for the Darkness."

"I agree Armen will act on the tree," Tsuyoshi said, his voice quietly echoing through the assembly. "The Star of Fire was made for his final judgment, once the seven sleeping Cherubim are released. Armen longed for it since it was forbidden, even not knowing why it is there—thinking that it contained some secret knowledge. He will not be able to resist the forbidden fruit of Knowledge. He is the easiest being for us to predict, almost as if he has no free will, though he learned to covet from none but himself. Humans, however, will not be so easy to predict. How will you overcome evil if the Humans do not eat of the fruit of knowledge?"

The Son smiled, "Being in my Image, if the man obeys me and rejects the fruit, he will quickly gain wisdom—which is greater than knowledge. Should that happen, the man will seize Armen, who has the form of a serpent, and tie him to the tree. Darkness will be defeated at the hand of Man either way."

"This will succeed. However, the children of Men will be lost in great Darkness." Mimi always considered matters of compassion. "Each Human will be corrupted by evil. All of their tears will glow and covet the Light, even those whom we now see as pure from within your rainbow. They will be born in a world changed by Darkness. We can see, for now, which Humans love the Light and which covet it. But in the end, after the entire species of Humanity is corrupted, how will we know which Humans first chose the Light?"

The other Ophannim looked at Mimi in silence as she paused.

Then, she continued. "We cannot take that first choice from them—the first choice which they already made: whether to covet the Light or reflect it. It was for the sake of free will that we allowed the covetous Angels to be borne. How will you guard the free will of Man in the end?"

The Son looked at Mimi and cried. "Oh, Mimi. I knew your concern when I held your own sleeping globe in my hands. For this you were chosen: to write the names of all the pure Humans in my Book—the wills who choose Life. That is how they will be remembered in the Judgment—as those who did not covet the Light, but loved it, even before the Beginning, when Light was all they knew. Through this, not one of them shall perish—no matter how many lies the Luminaries tell."

"But, why me? Will the Accusers not accuse the Book in your courts?"

"Of course not. You are among the Ophannin who instructed the Angels. If they reject your testimony, they would undo every claim they ever made and will lose everything, even their permission to breath. Your records are indisputable. So, my Book of the living shall have the final word because, because your testimony, born from your own free will, will record the choices that Humanity's free will made before I laid the foundation of their Earth."

"What of the constellations?" asked Tsuyoshi. "Even with the ascension of the risers, the Heavenly bodies still move according to most of their original courses. Only a few stars have changed their courses. Will not the darkened Luminaries watch the stars from Earth to predict the time of your intervention?"

"They will try," said the Son. "But, as I create their place, I will teach Michael to speak Akae of the Oath of Biqa so that he may alter the course of the constellations without our interference and not even Kokabel will be able to read them. Though the Luminaries may reveal some of the secrets to Humanity, they will quake in fear, for Michael will change the constellations above the Heaven and they will no longer understand through the stars."

Altering the course of the Heavenly bodies would not change the future, but it could be used to adjust Heaven's strategy in fulfilling the Son's purpose, while, at the same time, removing the ability for the future to be seen in the expanse from any vantage point on Earth. The only way for Humans to know the One, therefore, would neither be through the stars of the expanse nor the stars that would fall to Earth, but through Son Himself. This would offer hope to Humanity, which darkened Angels in the Earth could not access.

"This is good," said the sphinx. "But, how can it be justified? They will have victory, in the End, and every pure Human will be remembered in the Judgment, no matter how much they may be marred by the Darkness. Nonetheless, Humanity will suffer greatly at the hand of evil which they did not bring upon themselves. How is that just and fair?"

"Consignment to the Star of Fire will be more merciful than being consumed by the Darkness. This is the path of least suffering for all, Human and Angel, good and evil. Of all the suffering in Humanity, I will suffer the greatest."

* * * * *

The Lord of Spirits stood up from His Throne for the first time since the Heaven had been made. From around the Heaven He could be seen, towering far above the rainbow around the Throne. He held out His hands and looked to the billions of globes twinkling from the rainbow as they orbited the Throne. His face shined with compassion, at the same time His eyes gave tears.

Tsuyoshi, having resumed his wheeled form, hovered toward the clearing among Angels before the Throne. He stopped in the center, then Tsuyoshi's two wheels, the one and the one within the other, both started spinning and space was changed around him.

A portal in the floor of the Heaven opened beneath the spinning Ophan. A lone globe was seen just on the other side of the portal. The Lord of Spirits stood, towering over its depths, gazing downward. All the Angels watched.

The Lord of Spirits sat down on His Throne. Heaven was silent. Then, the Son stepped forward and spoke into the expanse beyond the portal. "Let there be light..."
**Story**

Heaven watched the Lord of Spirits and the Son for six days. On the last day, He placed Man in the Paradise, along with a tree surrounded with a light that seemed familiar. It had the same kind of orbital light that rose above the Angels when they gave praise, but also the same dark, glowing nebulous light that disrupted Glory on that fateful day when Mystery directed her choir. They both seemed to come from the same tree—both the bitter, glowing Darkness and the sweet, pure Light.

But, what was this "Man"? Where did his kind come from? Why did they have the same bodies as the Lord of Spirits, the Son, and the Archine? And, what did it mean that they were _man_ and _woman_? It seemed that two small twinkles had descended from the rainbow around the Throne, each in turn. But, what did it all mean?

The Angels did not understand. They stooped down to look toward newly made Earth, as the globe had been known for three days already. What was this new world in the expanse? Why did it seem to them as a dim light, just as the Son had seemed dim to the Angels before they were given wings? _Who is Man?_

On the seventh day, the Lord of Spirits stood to rest. Tsuyoshi stopped spinning, the portal closed, and, on that day, the Angels pondered Man. Men seemed like the Angels, but not entirely. Or, were they?

For a day the Angels pondered Man. Armen, on the other hand, was more consumed with this strange tree in the Paradise. He assumed that the Lord of Spirits was scheming. Why did the He keep so many secrets?

Aside from assuming that the Lord of Spirits always devised plans revolving around Armen himself, Armen was also paranoid. This Tree of Knowledge stuck like a thorn in his mind. The next day, furious, Armen stormed out of the assembly and went to find his Cherubin tool—that is, his sword.

Yes, the Heaven had been crafted with swords, tools meant for building, but also exploitable enough to provoke the destruction of those who usurp their powers. No longer would Armen wait for Michael to make the first move. He was determined to find out what this tree was. Perhaps it held some secret to accessing the Forbidden Star of Fire. To find out, he needed to get to his sword first.

While Armen was away, the Son stood among the Separate Archine. He turned to those around him and said, "The time has come. I ordained that Azazel would craft those Cherubin-like tools for you using Ophannin wisdom. You have not known their full purpose, but must go and bear them now."

Without question, yet not knowing why, they swiftly went to retrieve their swords. The Son had not said whether they should use them or why they were needed, but only that they should bear them. They did not even know that they were swords capable of combat. But, they would soon find out.

No sooner had Michael taken up his sword in his chamber than Armen leaped in through the entrance to attack him. "I saw you speaking directly with the Lord of Spirits while the Son formed and filled Earth! What is it that He told you? What secret hides in the Paradise?"

"You do not want to go there, dear brother." Michael had already blocked the swing of Armen's sword with his own. Both of them gleamed with light. Michael's was radiant while Armen's glowed eerily. Lightning came from both, each bolt resembling light from the sword it came from.

The two dueled, though they had not been trained for war. Slice after slice... Clash upon clash... Their fight echoed through the outer courts. Some darkened Luminaries heard the sound of heavenstone swords clamoring—the very swords which Azazel had made as a peace offering—though none of the Angels had yet returned to the inner court with swords in hand.

As soon as the Archine of Heaven heard the swords of Michael and Armen, they knew what was happening. For Angels understand the nature of matter and, though they do not foresee all purposes and uses of matter, they understand matter once their senses witness it in action. This was a fight and those Cherubin tools were clearly weapons of war. "They're planning an attack," one Luminary shouted. "Quick to the arsenal!"

All the swords of the Luminaries remained under Semjaza's watch, being that darkened Angels ordered themselves with rank and file in their distrust of each other. They did not want any of their numbers to bear such beautiful Cherubin tools without proper monitoring. So, Luminaries had no swords in their chambers, except their Princes.

By the time they retrieved them, the Separate Archine were already armed and waiting. While the Luminaries had perceived the Cherubin tools as weapons for war, the Separate Archine understood them as weapons for defense. In fact, they were both, depending on the wielder.

As darkened Archine emerged from their arsenal, war broke out one duel at a time. The Dark Angels always struck first. The Luminaries blamed the Separate for the conflict, claiming that wisdom was preemptive and required their assault. Indeed, wisdom had been preemptive in that the Lord of Spirits planned a solution from before their Beginning—a solution which not even the Separate Archine understood.

None of the Luminaries considered that the Lord of Spirits had already outsmarted them, nor did any of them know that Armen took up his own sword first. None of them cared that Azazel made their weapons in the first place. So, the Archine fought in the Heaven, the Luminaries accusing their brethren at every turn.

Angel upon Angel slashed and dashed, through one chamber and into another. They were not able to destroy the walls and structures because those had been fashioned by the Cherubim from heavenstone made by the Ophannim, powers much beyond the Seraphim to understand, and all the more beyond any Archine strength to alter or destroy.

Michael pursued Armen through the courts. Gabriel took on Semjaza with all the energy he could muster as Uriel, Raguel, and Saraqael routed Artaqifa, Kokabel, and Turael, three on three. Phanuel took on Azazel without raising his sword; Azazel wielded two while Phanuel simply dodged one attack after another, infuriating Azazel with each missed blow.

Strangely, Rafael and Remiel were absent. But, none noticed other than the Separate Archine Princes. It didn't matter anyway. The darkened Angels were outnumbered two to one.

All Luminaries were at the disadvantage, except that Semjaza was superior to Gabriel, who still managed to keep him at bay, while Armen was quite inferior to Michael. In fact Armen's battle was the most hopeless of any. To Michael, it seemed too easy.

At last, Michael and Armen faced off in the center of the court, just outside the Throneroom. Michael spoke Akae for the first time ever; constellations began to shift and the years of Earth aligned with the years of the Heaven. Michael did this to bring the newly made Earth under active governance of the Heaven, but Armen didn't heed the Heaven's strength. He only saw that Michael possessed power which he did not.

Armen shook with rage, his calm demeanor utterly undone. "God helps me!" he screeched. "God helps me! The Lord of Spirits helped me do all this."

"What nonsense!" Michael retorted.

"Can't you see? All of this—the Lord of Spirits was aware. He watched the whole time. He allowed us to make the very weapons you wield against us. He saw me enter your chamber in ambush. He saw all I did, yet He did not prevent me."

"And so, you think that means He _helps_ you? You have merely confessed to your own evil."

"No! Can't you see it?"

"You speak the language of lies. I see you have been so fluent since our beginning."

"You accuse me because you cannot refute my logic."

"My very sword refutes your logic: God gave me power to overcome you and has given me greater power which you can neither understand nor overcome. God helps me defeat you."

"No, no, no! God helps me! He helps me!"

" _You_ have not refuted _my_ logic. You merely repeat the same words as if that will make a lie become truth."

"Words become truth among those who would have them." Armen fled across the court, shouting for all to hear, "God helps me! He helps me! He does! God helps me! Can't you see it!?" Michael pursued, overpowering Armen all the while, yet Armen just kept demanding the same words; albeit those words seeded confidence among the Dark Angels, who began to agree. "God helps me! Can't you all see!?"

"Some help He has given you, _Prince God-helps-me!_ " Phanuel shouted from across the court. Henceforth, Armen was called Gadreel, which means _God helps me_ , first of all by Phanuel and not because the words held any truth, second by the Dark Angels and not because they disbelieved. The battle grew worse for the Gadreel and his cohort.

As swords continued to clash, their blades of crystal heavenstone sharpened each other and the Dark Angels were cut. Crying out in fury, they began to shift into their beast-like forms. All of the Archine could take the likeness of beasts, many of which had finally been seen on the fifth and sixth days of the First Earth. And, like beasts and birds of the First Earth, they cried out as wounded animals cry out in pain.

Gadreel became a writhing, shrieking serpent when Michael cut him at last.

In the heat of the battle, Tsuyoshi emerged from the Throneroom and hovered over the battle in the outer court. The ratio of Angelic forces was two Separate Angels against each darkened Luminary. An Ophan had now joined the Separate. "Injustice!" the dark ones cried. "You must not end our testimony here! Give us justice!"

"So shall it be!" Tsuyoshi's voice echoed through the Heaven so strongly that the floor shook with sound and all the darkened Luminaries fell to the floor. The Separate Archine remained standing, looking down at the Fallen, for none had ever fallen before in the Heaven.

Tsuyoshi began to spin again and the space in the Heaven tore. Finally, like a giant rip through the air, lightning shot down from Tsuyoshi and formed a new portal in the floor of the outer court, slowly growing in the shape of a chasm torn open. Below, the Paradise of the First Earth could be seen and the Dragon—Gadreel, the darkened Armen—stood at the edge of the chasm-portal and peered into the spiraling expanse below.

"Do not go, dear brother," called Gabriel, who stood at last relieved of Semjaza's attacks. "You have not been cast out. Not yet. Stay and repent, while you still can. For the Lord of Spirits has made no judgment against you and we all consider you brethren. Though you accuse us and you have been darkened, this is of no matter and nothing has been damaged in the Heaven or Earth."

"Enough with your treachery!" hissed the Dragon. "I am finished with your seduction." He leaned back as if preparing to strike at his brother, Gabriel. Michael flashed forward like a steaming jet and plowed his right shoulder into Gadreel's lanky body and the six-winged Archine fell through the portal, tumbling toward Parasise below.

Gabriel mourned, though he gave no tears. "Gadreel knew he stood no chance, yet he attacked. He wanted to fall. Our brother has chosen this for himself, yet I cannot know why. It is sad, but I shall respect his will."

Michael stood with his sword still in his hand. For there had not been war in the Heaven before that day. So, he had no sheath on his belt to keep it. "Brethren," he called to all the Angels, both darkened and Separate. "We shall not make further war with you. Not today. It was Gadreel who attacked me first in my chamber. I was able to defend myself because I had armed myself at the direction of the Son which I understood not. But, this battle today was not my will. So, please, I permit you to keep your swords in good faith, all of you. I only ask that you not use them so that we may remain in peace with you a little longer. I will make you sheaths so our swords may be with us at all times, yet serve no threat unless we summon them."

While the Fallen had made, guarded, and raised the first sword against their brethren, it was Michael, the patient and longsuffering, who made the first sheaths, where the sword may be kept safely at hand, harmless when not needed.

So, the Heaven's swords, both good and evil, were sheathed. The Dragon had departed of his own will. From this, the Heaven knew peace for a short while longer as Man was born and began to populate the First Earth.
**Seduction**

Gadreel drifted to the ground with a soft thud. During the dissent, he had steered himself just outside of Earth's Paradise.

He hadn't given Michael much of a fight—he wanted to be thrown through the chasm in the Heaven's outer courtyard. Now, Angels in the Heaven—the Fallen and the Separate—wouldn't wonder why he was gone. He could carry out his intentions in secret. If he couldn't access the Forbidden Star of Fire directly, perhaps the tree forbidden to Man would show him what the Lord of Spirits was hiding.

Technically, the Tree of Knowledge and the Star of Fire held the secret to the place he was seeking. Indeed, the Tree of Knowledge was an entrance point—where the discussion between Light and Darkness enters the cosmos, but through the tree, knowledge enters the cosmos without being adapted through the passage of time and patience. The Star of Fire, on the other hand, was an exit from the cosmos—like a buffer, the only place from which the One limits His creative power of governance.

By creating these two doorways, yet forbidding sentient beings from accessing them, only the most determined would work tirelessly for them. None could claim that the One withheld any request, not even the Darkness itself. Life is not a prison nor is the Lord of Spirits its jailer. Hell is only accessible to those most determined to go there.

Were it not for the pain and suffering Gadreel's choices would unleash, his quest would seem comical. Overthrow the One? To what end?

As he approached the Paradise, the Dragon saw the man and the woman at a distance. The mere sight of them caused Gadreel to tremble. They had no wings. They bore the same Image of the Lord of Spirits Himself. Surely, if they gained access to the Tree of Knowledge, they would be a great enemy for Gadreel and his Fallen associates. He determined to find the tree and eat its fruit before they did. But, he must not be seen.

At last he found it, right in the center. It was different from all others. Its fruit was beautiful, similar to clusters of grapes that grow on a vine. Gadreel ate the fruit... and nothing happened.

"WHAT!?" He hissed. "Surely this must be another trick from the Lord of Spirits," he thought to himself. "Or, since it was made for Man, perhaps it can only affect Men. I'll only learn its secrets by watching them eat it. If they die, my enemy in the Heaven will be defeated. If they live, I'll learn by watching them. So, he hid himself, in his serpent form, shrunken down among the branches of the tree and waited for the woman to walk by.

* * * * *

"Did God say that there were some trees that you cannot eat from?" Gadreel asked the woman.

Being somewhat startled, but not fearful, the woman turned to toward the sound of the strange voice. "A talking snake?" she thought. But, Gadreel smiled, and, having the quick mind of a woman, she jumped to the more important question at hand. "Oh, we can eat from any tree in the garden. The only exception is the Tree of Knowledge. Adam told me that if we eat of it—or even touch it—we will die."

This had been the man's first mistake, made even before the conflict of Light and Darkness entered Earth. The Maker did not instruct Man not to touch the tree, only not to eat its fruit. But, in his zeal to protect the woman he loved, he distorted the command of the Maker, thinking he was helping. Gadreel exploited this ignorance the man gave her.

Even as the woman said, "...or even touch it..." she saw the serpent within the tree and thought, "He is touching the tree and he is not dead." So, she doubted the man's understanding and, in her eyes, the serpent seemed more credible.

"You will not surely die. God knows that that the day you eat its fruit, you will become like Him, knowing Good and Evil."

It was clear that many things had been hidden from the woman. She felt deceived and isolated. In fact, she had been misled by both her husband and Gadreel, but she was only aware of the lie told by her husband. There is no such thing as a lie which harms no one, even an overly-strict rule. Even in the man's folly, she would have done better to honor the man whom the Maker had given to her, rather than to trust a strange creature which should not be able to speak.

The serpent lifted down one of the clusters and gave it to her. She ate and... nothing happened. Gadreel was stunned again.

"This is really good!" she said. I need to give some of this to my husband! He loves good food. Hey, honey! You should try this. It's really good."

"But, we're not supposed to eat it."

"Yeah, but you were wrong. You look like you need to eat anyway. Have some."

The man ate the fruit and they realized that they had no clothes.

"That's it?" Gadreel thought to himself. "They realized that they are naked? I could have told them that."

This was not going as Gadreel had hoped. Of course, it was unlikely for anything to go as Gadreel had hoped. So, rather than trying to help the man and woman, Gadreel left and the Humans gathered fig leaves to hide their shame.

* * * * *

Tension mounted in the Heaven. Michael fashioned sheathes, but only the Separate would use them. Fallen Archine carried their weapons in hand or unsafely stowed in their belts. They had wanted to look like the Cherubim, after all.

Besides, the Fallen were in hiding. Though they distrusted Michael, he was more powerful and they could not resist his truce offering. They were well outnumbered and Gadreel, whom some still thought of as Armen, was gone. For the time, the Darkened could only return to the shadows.

The Separate Angels assembled in the Throneroom. Seraphim sang softly. Archine pondered. Cherubim kept watch. And, four Ophannim gathered round the Throne for the first time. Each had six wings, covered with eyes, and one of each had a form belonging to a Cherubin face. These four Ophannim took up their stations around the Lord of Spirits as He sat on His Throne—and then it happened.

The Son entered the Throneroom, having the head of a lamb with seven horns. From the seven horns, seven Spirits blazed like slow, vaporous flames, each the color of the rainbow around the Throne. Through these Spirits, the Spirit of the Lord of Spirits went up and into the rainbow around the Throne and, through the rainbow, Earth started to become visible all around.

"Why this?" asked Michael in shock. "And, _what_ is this?"

"I AM the Lamb and by my blood shall you overcome the Dragon and the choir of Mystery."

"But, why do you take this meek form? None of the Archine, nor any Ophanim, have the form of a lamb. Why has the Heaven's most powerful appeared with such weakness?"

"Through this, I shall suffer the sting of darkness, yet nothing shall remove me from my Throne. Now, Michael, take your sword and pierce me."

"Surely I cannot!" The Archine Prince recoiled, as if he himself had been stabbed in the heart by the Lamb's request.

Tsuyoshi, in wheeled form, approached the Son and hovered above Him. To this point, none of the Archine swords had been removed from their sheathes. Michael had made the sheaths, so it was only right that he should unsheathe first. He looked up at Tsuyoshi. This was really happening and the Heaven's authority was serious.

"You cannot ask me this!" Michael pleaded.

"The situation compels it," returned the Son, peacefully as Klondike snow on a clear day.

"If only Azazel had not made these," Michael said, holding his sheathed sword in his hands. His grip tightened. Had Angels been able, he would have given tears right there.

"I knew it would come to this when I instructed the Ophannim to teach Azazel the making of these swords."

All the Archine stood motionless. The Seraphim sailed their loops in silence above the Throne. The Heaven was silent. Michael's mouth dropped slightly open.

The Son laid down on his back before Michael, as a lamb preparing itself for slaughter. "This was My plan from before the Beginning," the Son said in unison with the Lord of Spirits.

"From before?" Michael looked up toward the Throne. "You made me knowing You would ask this of me?"

The Son reached out his hand and placed it in reassurance atop Michael's foot, looking up at him. "Even before the Ophannim, I AM."

Michael, Chief Prince of the Archine, in the midst of the great assembly, couldn't not obey this command. He didn't want to. His arms would not move. But, the Son's words commanded his heart from within.

"This body in which you see me, this body of the Son, was made to meld with the fabric that made the Heaven. Only with my broken body can the materials of the Heaven become stronger."

Michael threw the sheath from his sword and pierced the Son as commanded from within. The Son shrieked in pain. Michael wailed. And, the sword was changed.

It shimmered with light, strong and clear. Even the Ophan above looked in awe.

"Now, you must pierce me with all the others," the Son said. "Azazel's craftsmanship was incomplete. All the Angels are my children, so the Fallen cannot be overcome unless I suffer. With these swords perfected in my blood, though the greater Luminaries will remain strong, no weapon fashion against you can endure."

Tsuyoshi began to spin in worship of the Lord of Spirits. One by one, Michael plunged the weapons of the Separate Archine into the Lamb. The Archine presented the hilts of their swords, one by one. Michael unsheathed them, then returned them in blazing glory.

Each was transformed in splendor. With each piercing, the Son screamed in pain and all the Angels mourned. Never before had the Heaven seen sacrifice or known the sight of suffering. In this, all of the Separate Angels were tested and all the weapons of the Heaven were christened in the blood of the Son.

When the last sword was returned, the body of the Son, still having the head of a Lamb, lay as if dead in the center of the Throneroom.

No sooner had they finished in the inner court than Gadreel, the Dragon, reemerged from the portal in the outer court through which he had tumbled. The army of Fallen Angels emerged from their hiding and amassed around the Dragon. Gadreel shouted through the entrance into the Throneroom, "You told them they were naked! They never knew because they were blinded by your deceit! Why did you tell them that, but not the deep secrets!?" The Dragon crouched and hissed.

None of the Angels, Separate or Fallen, knew what Gadreel spoke of or even whom he was addressing.

Michael, hearing accusation from the outer courts, looked up to one of the four Ophannim.

"Michael," said the Ophannin who was like a lion, "the Darkened Seraphim and the Fallen Archine Prince, Armen, must not retain their wings. Slice off all but two for each, lest they feign the Separate Holiness of the Heaven before the eyes of the chosen in Earth."

Without hesitation and with a growing tail of steam, Michael dashed toward the doorway, out of the Throneroom. His shining sword, transformed by the blood of the Son, carried him with shuddering speed. A wake of cloud swelled behind him as he sliced through the air of the Heaven with righteousness and vengeance. The Host of Separate Archine followed. Gabriel was right behind him.

A great war in the Heaven ensued, with Michael and his Angels against the Dragon and his hoard. Michael spoke again and the Heavens above shifted. A lesser star altered its course toward Earth.

Seeing that he was losing, and since all of the Darkened Seraphim had lost four of their six wings, the Dragon leaped toward Michael. Gabriel dashed toward the Dragon in a spin, swooped over his back, and struck him from behind with two slashes so fast all those watching saw only a single streak of light curving as a "U" through the air. Gabriel stopped, hovering over the Dragon's head, gazing down on his foe. Four wings drifted to the Heaven's floor. Gadreel, though winged, was without flight.

The Holy Archine controlled every corner of Heaven. Seraphin praise had resumed and filled in the Throneroom with songs to the worthy Lamb. Cherubim guarded every entrance and every passageway. The Separate Angels surrounded the rebellion in the center of the Heaven's outer court. There was no place for the Fallen to hide or run.

"Why, brother?" Gabriel pleaded as he hovered above Gadreel's severed wings.

"I should ask you your own question," the Dragon hissed. "How can you live like this? The Lord of Spirits receives all praise without rest. Yet, you aren't allowed to increase your own glory."

"Praise can only be genuine, not rehearsed like a learned skill. And, if we received praise, we wouldn't know what to do with it. He gave you six wings, unlike the rest of the Archine. You led the Seraphim, yet you walked among the Princes in fellowship. What good thing have you been denied?"

"Enough complex deceit! You twist truth!" Gadreel turned to Michael, "Don't you want to become as glorious as the Lord of Spirits? I could show you how."

"We already have a Lord and He does not make messes," Michael answered. "He cleans them."

Gadreel shrieked, bent over covering his ears. In an unexpected burst of motion, the Dragon whipped his tail, sending his Darkened brethren, both Archine and Seraphin, sailing to the lesser star, which was just passing the Heaven's horizon. Without looking to say goodbye, the Dragon darted again into the portal at the center of the outer courtyard and tumbled to Earth below.

Michael looked down through the portal toward Earth. Gabriel turned to him and then said, "We shall need to dispatch a Cherub."

The Heaven rejoiced. The Dragon had been thrown down. But, some of the Archine sang a song of sorrow to those in Earth, for the Dragon knew his time was short.

Michael and his Angels, less their Fallen brethren, returned to the Throneroom, their swords sheathed, their heads low. Michael approached the place where the Son was pierced. But, he was not there. During their praise of the Lord of Spirits, none of the Seraphim had seen him leave. The place where the Son was sacrificed sat empty.

* * * * *

"Adam? Where are you?"

"I'm here, Lord," said the man, the woman at his side.

"Oh. Why were you hiding?"

"Well, I heard you approaching and I was naked, so I hid."

"What? Who told you that you were naked? You didn't eat from that Tree of Knowledge that I told you not to... did you?"

"Well, um... no... yes, uh... The woman, the one You gave me. She always prepares the food. Maybe you should ask her."

History rarely notes the Maker's diverse communication skill. Most often, because the Maker is referred to as _He_ , using masculine syntax, Humans assume that the Maker only identifies with the male species. However, the relational flexibility of the Maker was first demonstrated in this, history's first record of a whodunit inquiry. There were many firsts on this day. Just as a mother reasons with her daughter, the Maker did not ask the woman about any particulars.

"Now, just look what you've done!" the Son said to the woman.

"It's not my fault," she replied, her face covered in shame.

The Son looked at her in stern love. Then, she gave the archetype excuse that would become the model for many daughters of men after her. "I was deceived by a talking snake."

As she spoke, Gadreel thudded to the ground... again... only, this time, he didn't land quite so gracefully and the thud was somewhat louder. The Son didn't even bother to question the Dragon. For He already knew where Gadreel had been.

"From this day forth, you shall crawl on your belly and eat the dust of this Earth, while the man works the soil and it fights him. The woman you deceive will seek her man's place, but he will somehow rule beyond her. The woman will give birth in great pain. She and her children will despise you. You shall strike at the heel of the Son of Man, but he shall crush your head."

It wasn't pretty. It wasn't fun. But, the Son drove them out of the garden. So, the Son stood alone in the vacated Paradise, watching the man and woman depart in the distance, wearing clothes he had just made from animal hide. His hands were still bloody when a Cherub arrived, accompanied by Gabriel.

"You're alive!" Gabriel said. "We weren't sure where you had gone off to."

"Of course I AM. The Living Son cannot be killed, even though Gadreel seems to think so."

"Maybe it's just wishful thinking on his part."

"Maybe. Anyhow, block the garden. Don't let anyone back in. The Tree of Life will make the damage permanent. Death shall be a grace for them, now."

"They'll just join us in the Heaven," Gabriel said.

"Those who contracted for it anyway."

"Contracted?"

"We'll talk about it later. Block the road for the time being. It makes me sad, but they aren't yet ready for Paradise... though, I did offer them Paradise first. I made them there, from its very soil."

"If I may say, it seems you made them capable to handle this."

"I made them capable to live anywhere, even outside the Paradise if need be. But, I also made them to be able to go back. Just guard it, don't destroy it."

"It's their choice."

"It is." The Son smiled, "I'll suffer again to keep it that way." Then he turned to leave.

With ox-like legs, glowing flesh, four faces, four wings, and a flaming sword of Glory, the fearsome Cherub walked with Gabriel to block the only entrance to the garden.

Just outside the entrance, Gabriel heard a sound. He turned and there was Gadreel, hissing and writhing in the dust.

"What are you doing?" Gabriel asked.

"This dust! It grabs me. It holds me down!"

"It's not the dust."

"What is it then!?"

"It's a law on Earth. Some will call it _gravity_ , but not for quite some time, after..."

"You and your rules!" Gadreel interrupted. "It's something in the dust. This so-called 'dirt' is quite different from water and..."

"The laws are for your benefit, to explain how it all works..."

"...Oh, propaganda! That's what the Lord of Spirits said about the so-called _'Forbidden'_ Star of Fire."

"Um, yes. That too." Gabriel blinked, standing calmly.

"Well I don't buy it!" Gadreel scoffed as he squirmed in the dust, smacking his tail against the ground.

"Don't fight it. Just accept it," Gabriel lazily said, closing his eyes and raising his hand. "You should get yourself used to it, in fact. It's going to be holding you down for quite some time."

"It was you who told the man that he was naked! You messed-up everything!"

"What are you talking about? I was in the Heaven all this time. The Cherub and I just got here. What were you doing down here, anyway?" Though Gabriel was somewhat cross, he couldn't help but chuckle. It's as if he had somehow absorbed a thread of Phanuel's wit.

"How can you laugh at such a time as this?"

In his anger, the Dragon lunged at the Cherub, attempting to get past him. Strike after strike, the Cherubin sword slashed the Dragon's teeth, wearing them dull. "It's in there. I can eat it now and I'll learn! The man had to eat it first, that was it. Why didn't I take another bite while I had the chance!?"

"Gadreel, look now what you've done. Your teeth are dull. You won't even be able to harm anyone without getting someone else to do it for you. Why persist? Just give it up and make life easier for yourself." Gabriel shook his head as he moderately lifted off, sailing upward toward the chasm-portal in the far distant sky, leaving a small plume of dust behind on the ground below.

"You just want to deter me from finding out the secret!" the Dragon hissed up at the sky. "Well, it won't work! Maybe I'll take your advice. I'll go convince one of the Huams to kill his brother, then I'll say it was all your idea!"

Gabriel looked down from above and shouted, "But, you can't, dear brother. The Ophannim haven't yet allowed Men to slay one another. And, none of the Fallen Angels can kill humans, even if you hadn't filed your teeth on the Cherub's sword. Men still have dominion of Earth. You only have what authority they give you."

"You're talking nonsense!"

"Don't play games with Men. At their creation, the Son concealed their ability in their frailty; not even Michael knows their secret strength. If Man gives you authority in Earth, there will be a way for them to take it back and it will likely be your final undoing."

The Dragon scoffed and finally rolled over onto his belly.

"By the way, I'll be taking your place over the Seraphim," Gabriel continued, his voice growing distant. "And, the Paradise is under my watch. You cut your own teeth after I cut your wings off. Now, cut your losses and don't make things any worse for yourself, dear brother."

Gabriel vanished into the chasm in the sky, then it closed. Gadreel, the Dragon, sat on the ground. He was alone, toothless, sporting only two out of six wings, and, for the first time, his mouth was full of dust.
**Silence**

Gabriel returned through the chasm-portal in the outer court, just closing behind him. Tsuyoshi sailed overhead, toward the inner courtroom. The lesser star, where the Dragon had cast the Fallen, was now beyond the courts of the Heaven and was making its way toward Earth. It would be half a millennium before the lesser star came within range of Earth. But, when it came close, the Fallen would be sure to invade.

For now, the Archine had both the time and the need to plan their response. In addition to Phanuel, the seven remaining Archine Princes, swords sheathed at their sides, held counsel with the four Ophannim around the Throne. Tsuyoshi hovered.

"Gadreel made a mess," Uriel said, breaking the silence. "I could see it coming two thousand years ago, but what could be done?"

"All has been done that should have been done," an Ophan said. The Ophannim rarely spoke. When they did, it was difficult to know which was speaking. Though young, the Archine were wise and needed little guidance, especially when evidence was clear.

"Then, what will be done next?" Saraqael asked. "Even though he is alone, Gadreel can use Earth as a stronghold, corroding it in the process."

"There is little purpose in amassing our forces," Gabriel said. "Our weapons have been christened and the Heaven's Hosts are complete." He looked at Remiel, "Can the risers among Man ascend to their places while Gadreel remains on Earth?"

"They rise at their appointed times," Remiel answered. "Gadreel cannot change that. No Angel can, not even a Cherub, not even me."

"Can he meddle with it?"

"Those who rise in spirit find their power in the Lord of Spirits, not from their brethren," Remiel continued. "The Dragon, however, may poison the minds of the risers to think otherwise."

"So, if Gadreel cripples Humanity further, the risers will tower above the wicked all the more," observed Raphael.

"...and they will also tower above the Dragon," Phanuel added. "If he even tries to control those risers he will be like a fool attempting to tame an unwilling stallion."

Remiel nodded in agreement.

"But, the Dragon will not control all of Humanity," Michael interjected. "Though the Dragon will harness Humanity's strength, the best part of Humanity will wrestle with even the One Himself. I cannot even stop that."

"In the End," Remiel added, "the risers will overcome those who serve the Dragon."

"So, by crippling Humanity, Gadreel cannot usurp them to become powerful enough to destroy them." Saraqael paused, looking at the floor. "Is this ethical? Even though 'tis for their own good... Are we in the right to take action to cripple Humanity?"

The bevy of Angels stood in silence for more than a long moment. The Ophannim gazed toward the Lord of Spirits on His Throne, revealing none of their thoughts to the Archine.

Gabriel broke the silence, "The Heaven's Hosts can hold back the Fallen, no matter how strong they become on Earth. With enough time, I can overcome each and every Fallen Archine Prince. So, if Humanity is crippled, the Heaven can invade Earth and free Humanity."

The Archine looked at Gabriel calmly in understanding. He continued. "If Humanity is not crippled, but kept strong, and if Earth merely remains in darkness, the Heaven and Earth could have a long-term standoff. We will win, but we want them to return to the Paradise sooner, I would think. It seems that we would do Humanity a great injustice if we did not cripple them for their own well being."

Phanuel piped in, "The question is not whether we should cripple Humanity, but whether the Accusers will allow us to."

The others tilted head to look. He stood only about twelve feet by Human and Angelic measure, smallest of them all. Phanuel still thought of the Fallen as primarily _Accusers_ since he defended against them—which he did quite well. So, though he alone spoke of the Fallen as "Accusers" on that day, the others understood him beyond his words. Phanuel continued, "The Accusers claim strong laws of justice and they may have a fair, legal argument against allowing us to interfere with their evil on Earth."

"Yes, Humans have dominion of Earth, not we," Gabriel added. "And, because of Adam's deviance, Earth has become a realm of evil. The Fallen Archine will be able to claim an asylum on Earth, to be protected from us, at least in some manner or another."

"And," Phanuel continued, "just as the Accusers will only have what authority the Humans give them, the Accusers will claim some authority. If we interfere, the Accusers will have a strong case against us in the courts of the Heaven..."

"What are you getting at, Phanuel?" Uriel interrupted.

"Even if we were right to cripple Humanity, just a little and for their own benefit, we might not be able to because the Accusers will use every excuse, no matter how petty, to accuse us in the courts of the Heaven, delaying our action further. And, when we are finally able, we may not have the strength to do it with grace and mercy—without creating more injustice. Questions of the Heaven's jurisprudence do not only involve us Archine. Humans are also involved. Now that the Dragon has essentially been 'welcomed' to Earth, we can only intervene in Human affairs with the aid of someone who has 'legal standing'."

"We need aid from someone worthy," Raguel said.

"But, who?" Saraqael tilted his head upright, looking at Raguel.

The bevy of Archine Princes looked at one another in befuddlement. Some looked up, others at the floor or the walls at the perimeter of the inner court.

Phanuel continued, "We do not even know what the legal requirements are for someone to become worthy in the first place. More importantly, even if one can be found worthy, we still would not even know the specific way in which Humanity should be crippled to protect them from the Fallen."

"He is right," Michael said. "It would be as if a brother was standing under a falling rock. Then, to save him, one of us pushes him out of the way, but bruises him in the process. That would be merciful because it is better to be bruised than to be crushed. So, we are right in crippling Humanity to keep them safe. But, that is the problem..."

"What problem?" Saraqael asked.

"We do not know what cliff the rock will fall from, metaphorically speaking. How will the Fallen seek to exploit Humanity? We do not know. So, we do not even know what way Humanity should be crippled, if they should be crippled at all. Should it be famine or war, murder or martyrdom, wild beasts or disease? If we knew which method, we would not know when or where. And, even if we knew that, the Fallen accuse us day and night, even at a distance, whether we do good or nothing at all. We are already at a standoff with Earth, even now—even with only Gadreel there and all of the Fallen on a lesser star for half of a millennium. There is only one option left to us: We must call on the One, the Most High. Only the Lord of Spirits can answer this matter."

The other Archine Princes agreed. The Ophannim were silent. It was as if they were waiting for the Archine to discuss and arrive at this conclusion. Then, Tsuyoshi began to spin.

A portal opened near the edge of the vast chamber and twenty-four Humans walked through.

"Who are these?" Raphael asked. "They are Human, but where did they come from?"

"These are the elders from Humanity's End," said the Ophan with the face of Man. "The Heaven's courts are timeless, transcending the confines of the cosmos. They have come to be witnesses in these matters."

The twenty four elders made their way toward the center of the Throneroom. As they neared the center, twenty four smaller crystals rose from the floor, making seats around the Throne in the center. Each was accompanied by a wheeled Ophan.

The four Ophannim around the Throne began to shout, "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty," and they did not stop repeating these words for quite some time. The elders were mostly silent, while some held counsel. The Archine stood in amazement before the Throne. Six calls of the hour passed.

At last, Tsuyoshi began to spin differently and the portal changed. Through walked another man. He was greeted by Raphael with a scroll and a pen. Then, Raphael quietly led him to the edge of the circle of Elders, where he began to write.

The Lord of Spirits on the Throne reached out His hand, holding a scroll, written on the inside and the outside—covered with words on both sides and sealed with seven seals. He stretched it toward Michael, but Michael was motionless and shouted for all in the court to hear, "Who is worthy to take the scroll and break its seals?"

No one answered. The Human who was writing began to give tears until one of the elders comforted him. For this man, who was writing everything he saw, was not familiar with the ways of the Heaven—that even the greatest of the Heaven's problems always follow with an even greater solution.

Then, the Son returned to the center of the Throneroom, his head once again as a Lamb and the whole assembly began to cry out, "Worthy! Worthy! Worthy is the Lamb! He alone can take the scroll and break the seals!" The elders fell on the floor and threw down their crowns.

The Lamb ascended to the foot of the Throne and took the scroll from the Lord of Spirits who sat upon the Throne. With the great scroll above his head in hand, the Lamb threw down the scroll and stamped down on one of the seven seals, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

* * * * *

Gadreel sat alone in a wilderness. He had overreached. The Heaven knew his treachery and he could no longer hide in the shadows. Eventually, the Fallen he had cast to the lesser star would reach him, but not for another five hundred years.

He wasn't even sure how the Tree of Knowledge worked or what it had done... if it had done anything. He was no match for the Cherub that blocked the Paradise. He knew that now. His teeth had been filed down to almost nothing. Even if it was open, he couldn't fly up to reach the portal to the Heaven. So, here he was, coiled up and alone.

The only thought on his mind was his lack of access to hidden knowledge, which he was certain could be used to overthrow the evil Lord of Spirits—so that he, the Dragon, would become God of the Heaven.

Perhaps he could become God of Earth first? He didn't like the idea. Why should he start out small, anyway? That just wasted time.

Gadreel had plenty of time to waste, sitting in a wilderness, pondering what the Lord of Spirits was doing before He created the Angels. Perhaps wasting time was how the Lord of Spirits came to be God of the Heaven—He was God of a small planet first! Yes, Gadreel was certain of it. Maybe that planet was the Forbidden Star, which was why the Lord of Spirits turned it into fire...

It all made sense to Gadreel, now: The Lord of Spirits became God of planet. That's how He started. Then, He burned the entire planet thereby creating the Star of Fire, then forbade Angels from going there—to hide His secret!

And, that's what Gadreel must do to Earth—become Earth's God, then burn up everything.

Only a being as despicable as the Lord of Spirits would lower Himself to performing small deeds first, rising to become God through lesser, menial tasks. Yes, that was it! The Lord of Spirits lied when He said that He "always was"; He _became_ God of the Heaven.

The secret to how the Lord of Spirits became God of the Heaven was concealed within the Forbidden Star of Fire. For Gadreel, only Earth stood in his way—which would become his own "star of fire" to hide his secrets after he becomes God.

God of Earth! Gadreel scoffed at the notion. He didn't want to waste his time with becoming the petty God of Earth first. He despised Humans.

How dare the Lord of Spirits act as if Angel should serve Man! Who would want to be the God of Earth anyway? But, it wasn't as though Gadreel had options. Mischief was his only way forward and the only place for his mischief now was Earth.

Angry, Gadreel slithered off to find the man and woman. It wouldn't be difficult. The man would be fighting with the soil of the ground to make food grow. So, the Dragon followed an obvious trail of dust in the air.

When he finally found the man and woman, something else caught him off guard: two young, small Humans with them. Where did they come from? How did they get there?

"Sorry to interrupt..."

Gadreel spun around and coiled into his defensive stance. Actually, it wasn't much of a "stance" since he was belly-down on the ground. He was coiled in more of a, well, in a coil. "What do you want?" Gadreel hissed.

It was Uriel. What was he doing here? "I just came to tell you that the Ophannim have made a change."

"And, why does that concern me?" the Dragon hissed back, tasting the air with his forked tongue. He actually hadn't taken the time to taste air before, even while following the trail of dust. He tasted it again and looked around.

"That is Earth's air you taste."

"I know what it is I'm tasting! Is that what the Ophannim changed? Is that what you came to tell me? I can figure things out myself, you know!"

"Actually, snakes have always been able to taste air. They changed something different."

"Tell me already and be on your way," Gadreel hissed back, but continued tasting the air, trying to get acquainted with it.

"Humans are now capable of killing one another. It was not possible before, but now it is."

"So what! Why tell me this?" the Dragon slithered toward a different defensive angle, though it posed no threat to Uriel. Then, he continued tasting the air.

"Because, I will be guarding their spirits after they die."

"Guarding their spirits... in Tartarus I suppose? Do you expect me to believe that's why the Lord of Spirits made that place?"

"It does not matter. I just need to tell you. Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Tasting the air."

"Never mind what I'm tasting. I can taste the air if I want." He stopped tasting the air for a moment.

"How long have you been here? And, you still have not tasted the air?"

"I've been busy."

"So I hear."

"You already know so much about me. Now, you know that I'm tasting the air. Are you finished then?"

"No."

"So, on with it and off with you."

"Humans do not have the capability in Earth to harm each other's spirits—only their bodies. When they die, their spirits will be in my care until the Lord of Spirits summons everyone for Judgment, including you."

"You just want to throw off my plans! Why should I believe anything you say? If the Lord of Spirits wanted us to know the truth, why does He forbid things like stars and trees?"

"You mean star and tree, singular. There are lots that we..."

"Yeah, only one was forbidden. That's what she said when..."

"Um, Armen, there is a lot you do not know about..."

"I'm Gadreel. God helps me!"

"He tries, anyway. That is why I am here, to explain it..."

"Humans may be able to kill each other, but I'll bet that your secret is actually held in Tartarus. You want me to believe that, don't you! Well I don't. I know the Lord of Spirits is hiding something and, even though you won't tell me what it is, I'll figure it out. And, when I become God of the Heaven, you'll have to answer to me!"

"The Lord of Spirits already is God of the Heaven."

"Not for long. You'd better watch yourself!"

Uriel just looked at him.

"Nothin' to say?" Gadreel grinned manically.

Uriel's eyelids slightly closed with boredom.

"I sure showed you. I'm not scared to tell you off!"

"Okay, well, you were given a fair chance when the Ophannim let you down here. Humans did not know anything. You taught them, that made a mess. Here we are."

"But, you'll soon fly off and leave me here, alone."

"You chose to come back."

"I was surrounded in the outer court."

"After you chose to go back before you came back... Look, if your accusations against your brethren were reasonable, maybe the Humans would have agreed with you. But, they did not know what they were getting into. They were the only ones in the cosmos who might have defended you because they have an objective viewpoint."

"Viewpoint about what?" Gadreel hissed, then looked the other way, tasting the air.

"Many things."

"Such as? Ha! Don't know, do you..."

"...about our little falling-out in the Heaven, for one."

"That wasn't 'little'. It was huge!"

"Huge? Like the fight you put up against Michael?"

"He was always stronger than me?"

"Then why did you attack him first?"

"I didn't. He provoked it. Besides, you weren't there in his chamber."

"That is interesting. Why were you?"

"Questions, questions. You don't know so much after all, do you!"

"I know that it was your suggestion to introduce darkness into the Human's bodies. That will not make them happy with you. They still have not reached their final decision about you and your Fallen brethren on that approaching star."

"What approaching star?"

"You are not getting off to a good start, Armen."

"I told you, I'm Gadreel! God helps me!"

"Gadreel, then, how can God help you if you want to overthrow Him?"

Gadreel sat in his coil, tasting the air.

Uriel continued, "Are you not the one claiming He hides the truth from you?"

"Fine, call me Lussiver, if it pleases you." The Dragon continued tasting the air.

"Light Keeper... Do you not share that title with the other Fallen Princes? Did you ask them about this?"

"I'm busy, are you done already?"

"Before I let you get back to tasting Earth's air, just consider some wise advice. If I were you, I would not mislead anyone else. Support truth. Worship the Lord of Spirits—the one already on the Throne in the Heaven—not yourself. Do not try to take that Throne from Him; it cannot be done. The Throne itself will not let you sit on it. You have enough enemies in the Heaven, do not make the Humans of Earth resent you or you will end up in a place you do not want to be."

Gadreel sat and scowled at the dust, belligerent and defiant. He was certain Uriel was merely trying to lure him into agreeing with him. Well, it won't work, he thought to himself. "I won't believe one word you say!"

"There is another thing you need to know," Uriel was almost amused and, though he tried not to laugh, it was clear he'd rather have been somewhere else.

"More deception, I presume..."

"The Ophannim also allowed several other things... safeguards, just in case you decide to try to harness Humanity, to control them for your wicked purposes."

"Why would I ever think of doing that?" the Dragon said with a pretentious innocence as he glanced to the side with a shrug... if serpents can shrug, that is. He tasted the air again.

"Hmm... that is a good question. But, so you know, we can call down famine and disease and war anytime we want. We have control over the four winds and we have the permission to use them. So, do not get any big, snake-brained ideas. If you convince Humans to serve you, remember we own their supply, so we can cut it off."

"Where did you get that power? What is your secret?"

"There is One who is worthy—and He is not you. If I were you, I would be grateful that you are being warned at all."

Gadreel looked at the dirt with the shame of a five year old who'd just been scolded.

"Oh, and one more thing. Though you cannot kill Humans yourself, I am sure you will try to convince them to kill each other, especially those who disagree with you—you never did know how to handle opposition. But, if you have anyone martyred, that martyr will give more power to the Heaven than you could imagine. The reason Heaven decided to allow murder is to keep you from dominating Earth. If Humans murder one another, it will make you weaker, not stronger. So, do not wreak havoc. You will only make things worse for yourself if you provoke anyone to murder his brother."

Gadreel laid his head down and coiled his snake body up over his eyes. He didn't want to hear anymore.

Uriel finished, "I do not need to tell you this, but I advise you to listen to those who care enough to tell you that you are wrong. You are being handed a second chance, here, on Earth. Apologize and, maybe, after four thousand years, the Humans might have mercy on you. But, if even one Human is murdered, believe me, the way things are set, it will be over for you."

Without a goodbye, Uriel departed, like a centurion after giving an eviction notice.

Gadreel sat motionless. What could he do now? There was only one thing to do... see if he could entice one of the brothers to kill the other. It would be easier to have the older one kill the younger brother because the older one was bigger. Yeah, that seemed like a smart idea to Gadreel.

So, Gadreel stalked the older brother, Cain, poisoning him with all the jealousy he could conjure... Why didn't the Lord of Spirits love Cain more than Abel? Cain was bigger, after all. He had been working longer. Why didn't his younger brother serve him?

Night and day, Gadreel wore down young Cain's mind, whispering in his ear, sowing greed and hatred. It wasn't because Cain was any more evil than his brother. Abel and Cain had both been born with a form of darkness called _sin_ fused to their bodies. That was because their father ate the fruit of Knowledge.

The harassment Gadreel gave to Cain had never been seen before upon the face of Earth. And, never since was Gadreel able to focus all of his efforts on one person. There were only four Humans walking on Earth at that time. Two of them were already angry with Gadreel and wouldn't trust him.

Of the other two, only one could overpower the other. Adam and Eve were young parents and didn't have the wisdom of grandparents. They didn't know what to say to help Cain love his brother, nor could they learn from any other parents.

Gadreel, on the other hand, had three thousand years of experience with lies and jealousy. So, Cain was a victim of the Dragon's forked tongue, just as much as his brother, Abel.

At that time, murder was not known, nor was death. No one had mourned the loss of a brother. No one knew how sad it was to watch another person die. So, there was no sad memory to deter Cain from killing his brother and causing his own regret.

One day, the brothers gave their thanks offering to the Lord of Spirits. In His justice, He rejected Cain's offering because, in Cain's greed, he presented less quality from his fruits, keeping the better fruit for himself.

The rejection made Cain angry and the Dragon pushed him over the edge. Cain murdered Abel. The two brothers fought, Cain in jealousy and Abel in defense, until Abel was silent.

This was also the first time Gadreel saw flesh perish. He watched and learned as Abel's heart stopped.

Humans can't see a spirit with their eyes, but Angels can—even Fallen Angels. When a Human dies of old age or from sickness or famine or from a wild beast or a freak event of nature, the body's heart simply stops and the spirit lifts, descending to Tartarus, where Uriel keeps watch. The spirit enters one of the four chambers, according to what happened in Earth.

As Abel died, his spirit went to the chamber where murdered spirits make suit to the Lord of Spirits concerning how they were killed. But, we'll return to Abel and his six-thousand year relationship to Cain shortly.

When spirits lift, something happens to the blood of the remaining body, which also can only be seen by Angels. When a Human body dies naturally, the spirit merely lifts, and the body turns to dust. But, if the Human is murdered or dies at the hand or machinations of other Humans, the body turns to dust just the same, but the blood changes in the spiritual realm; it appears to be covered in tears.

Gadreel saw Abel's murdered blood and, to Gadreel, it looked delicious. So, the Dragon feasted on the murder of Abel.

Both Cain and the Dragon tasted murder that day. Cain felt shame and emptiness, while the Dragon felt satisfaction for the first time in his three millennia of existence. From that experience, Gadreel believed that murder was the key to secret knowledge, when in fact, he merely thirsted for murdered blood.

Cain quickly left and started to build cities. While many thought he labored because of his strength and knowledge of architecture, building cities was actually Cain's solution to the lonely silence he felt in memory of his brother.

As for Abel, he was, in fact, taken to Tartarus by the Archine under of Uriel. His was the first spirit to arrive. Even before his heart stopped, Abel's spirit began its suit against Cain for the injustice. But, few would know the injustice Abel made suit for.

* * * * *

"Abel has been taken to Tartarus and is making suit for what his brother did to him," Uriel said to the Lord of Spirits. "What will happen now?"

"I will visit Cain and curse him," He replied.

"To what end? This was the first murder. Gadreel has tasted murdered blood and now thirsts for more."

"What does the spirit of Abel say?" asked the Lord of Spirits, as if He didn't already know.

"Repeatedly, again and again, that he will make suit to You, even after You hear him, until Cain is removed from the face of Earth and the seed of murder is completely annihilated from the seeds of Man."

"Then we don't want him to stop requesting that, do we?"

"What do you mean?" asked Uriel.

"In Humanity's first prayer, they already cry out against the Dragon. Abel will make suit about this terror as long as evil exists on Earth. No one can claim that Gadreel's appearing accomplished anything but sorrow."

"He is a witness to support Phanuel's defense against Accusers."

"Yes."

"What shall we do?"

"When the Fallen claim more victims, they will go into your care where they can't be harmed again. You shall continue to watch Tartarus where all of the Dragon's victims on Earth mount up their complaint. Once their complaint reaches a power greater than the Fallen, Tartarus will no longer be necessary and it shall be cast into the Star of Fire."

"What of Cain? Should we call Gabriel to send another Cherub?"

"Cain will never kill again. I know the mind of Man. Both brothers are sad, not against each other, but for each other. They were happy together. That is the injustice for which Abel makes suit. He wouldn't complain unless he loved his brother.

"So, I will curse Cain to wander Earth, unable to die. Because he gave death to his brother, he shall not see death, and, thus, shall he mourn the memory of his brother. He will build cities for a time, distracting himself from his pain. But, after his empires expire, I will multiply the languages of Man and scatter them through Earth. In his wanderings, Cain will find himself of the land of the righteous where the languages merge once again. There, my people will tell him of my redemption and he will repent. Then, I will descend in Glory and make final war with the Dragon who provoked him and you shall send the Dragon to the place he always longed to go."

"...to the star covered by a lake of fire."

"Find Raguel. You will need him to fashion you a chain. And, you shall institute a new practice..."

"Yes?"

The Lord of Spirits turned to Raphael, "You are to collect the tears of Humans from now on. Archine shall observe which tears are from jealousy and which tears are from selflessness. This shall reveal to you the progress of each Human and the selfless tears, which do not covet, shall be taken as offerings of prayer."
**Signs**

Since Earth was made, Archine Princes have given it special attention, and the constellations that orbit it. Michael only found cause to alter the courses of lesser stars and constellations when it was necessary to alter foreseeable events. So, the Archine, both Fallen and Separate, held watch. For this reason, they became known on Earth as _the Watchers_ —those who watch the stars and events of Man.

Gadreel, having been thrown off his guard time and again, studied Man carefully. He didn't want more surprises. In some ways, he knew Man better than Man knew himself. But, in other ways, especially those most obvious to Man, he never understood.

Adam knew Eve again and she conceived Seth. It wasn't until Seth's birth that Gadreel understood the origin of Abel and Cain. While he did not understand the origin of offspring, he already understood many things about spirits because he himself was a spirit.

_Spirit_ is the original form in which Angels occur—on the Spiritual Plane. Angels can assume a physical form, thereby occurring in what seems like a Human body. Still, they are primarily _spirit_ and see the created order from the vantage point of the _spirit_. However, Man's primary occurrence is in his physical body, which gives him location on the Natural Plane. The _soul_ occurs at an even higher plane, which the Ophannim witnessed at the Great Contracting of souls.

There are seven Spirits of the Lord of Spirits, just as there are seven spirits of Man. These were most plainly seen in the rainbow around the Throne and from the horns of the Lamb. In the local body of the Natural Plane, Human spirits coordinate along the body's spine. These seven connection points have been called many things, but probably best _touchpoints_ —points where the spirit touches the body.

Where the Human spirit flows constantly through the touchpoints, they can be activated. The lower the touchpoints, the more they are activated by the body alone, the higher points can only be activated by the _will,_ also known as the _soul_. The lowest touchpoint relates to family while the highest touchpoint relates to the mind, where the soul-globe has remote access from the Untouchable Plane—where souls have choice and memories truly exist.

The One Himself is the Highest Plane of existence, the First Plane on which all other planes depend. But, more was written in _The Four Planes_.

Human memories are not stored in the brain, they are stored in the soul, eternally. The brain is more like a "system cache", like a "local copy" of a document that is officially stored in a place otherwise inaccessible. The only way to access a memory from the Natural Plane is through the healthy brain of the Human whose soul holds it. But, since the Great Contracting occurred before Humans were born to the Natural Plane, their brains have no memory of that choice through their brain on the Natural Plane, yet that choice from before Earth was made remains, real, individual, and binding.

So, the mind is the junction of cached memories of the brain and the untouchable choice of the soul, the highest of the seven touchpoints in a Human body. This seventh touchpoint is why memories remain in the soul even if forgotten in life them and it is why Human life cannot be duplicated by Humankind. To duplicate Human life, one would need to directly access the soul where even Angels cannot reach, a level of existence only touchable by the One.

Throughout these seven touchpoints, the spirit of a Human weaves in and out of the body, channeling to the extremities. This spirit is the substance of emotion, sorrow, praise, and prayer.

The lowest touchpoint of family requires a mutual covenant of the will between man and woman. While this covenant is invisible to Man, Angels can see the sphere of covenant around the man and woman, protecting them as a womb protects an unborn child. Activating family touchpoints without the covenant of promise opens the Human spirit to intrusion from the unclean spirits and a lasting influence from Fallen Angels.

Things of Earth and the Heaven are governed by various _laws,_ one of the most famous laws in Earth being _gravity,_ something Gadreel thought to be a form of tyranny rather than a power to harness through self-discipline, self-control, and choice. Gravity can grant great power, once one accepts it. But, Man must learn about gravity himself. Laws of science, such as gravity, were not intended to be taught to Man, but that was another discussion among the Angels.

Eventually, Gadreel learned to penetrate the Human spirit so effectively by learning laws of spirit and body, merely to exploit them. He perverted the activation of touchpoints—the lower by perverting laws governing morality, the middle by perverting laws governing nourishment and strength, and the higher by perverting laws governing music, arts, and teaching.

These perversions always seemed appealing to Humans at first, but they quickly degraded their spirits and eventually damaged their bodies. The Maker created the touchpoints to match and function in certain ways, designing them with empowering laws, allowing Man control over many things through choice. Gadreel taught Man to ignore those choices, claimed that such laws were a "tyranny", and even provoked Man to behave differently from natural design.

"Don't let anyone tell you who you are," the Dragon would teach. "Your future is not already written. Be whomever you want, change yourself to appease others, rework your spirit as it suits you. Never let any Maker tell you to obey." Of course, at the same time, Gadreel tried to reshape Humanity as he wanted, through the perversions.

Man was made with both design and will. Each Human's destiny is his own choice, timelessly Contracted—which means that everyone, deep in his soul, agrees with his "prior-timeless" Contract, made with either Light or Darkness, every moment of every day of his eternal existence. But, life on Earth—that was different from the Contract.

Life merely explained whom each Human chose to be in principle. That life was always an ongoing dance between _discovery_ and _choice_ —discovery of the Maker's design, which is the quest _to_ _know oneself,_ and choice of where to work and focus within the vast ocean of choice the Maker designed for each, unique Human.

The laws of spirit and body could no more be rewritten than Gadreel could have altered the halls of the Heaven crafted by the higher Cherubim. The design of touchpoints came from a higher level of existence altogether. Ignoring these laws didn't rearrange the touchpoints as Gadreel had promised Man; it destroyed the Humans who chose to ignore the design from their Maker.

Gadreel perfected his perversion of touchpoints during the first 500 years of Man. At that time, Gadreel was the only Luminary on Earth. He performed experiments, provoking murder and immorality as often as he could. He developed rhythms and songs and arts and teachings to amass unwitting followers. All of it was intended to guide Man unto murder. When blood was shed without just cause, the Dragon feasted.

He quickly learned that once a Human wrongfully killed another, the location of the murder became valuable to him. From the same place, it was easier for Gadreel to influence nature, to provoke wild beasts to kill Humans, and to give favor to thieves waiting in ambush. From any of these, he feasted all the more.

Eventually, Gadreel instituted occult practices of sorcery and witchcraft, gaining even more power through planned Human sacrifices. The power of instituted practice became his most efficient means of work since it convinced Man to maintain a controllable system contrary to natural Chaos. Chaos—the one law which he could not influence no matter how hard he tried. Human covenant of morality combined the will of Man with the order of Chaos, which was why Gadreel hated these two most: covenant and Chaos. That was why he perverted them with immorality and institutions.

By convincing Man that "good institutions" were like the Heaven and thus do not change, he could evade enough Chaos to control Man and invoke immorality; through immorality he could invoke murder and control land. Through 500 years of murder and death, Gadreel became a master of both land war strategy and lust. For him, they were one in the same.

* * * * *

The Fallen Watchers watched Earth from the plains of the lesser star. As they saw Earth growing larger in the distant sky, they chose an envoy to visit Gadreel: Artaqifa, who was not their chief Prince, but was senior to Gadreel.

With the blessing of the Fallen, Artaqifa lifted off into the expanse. It would take one night for the journey and he would arrive on Earth at twilight, when the Fallen Luminaries are most visible. In the morning, Gadreel spotted Artaqifa approaching in the sky.

"Welcome, brother," Gadreel said. Though he was a serpent, Gadreel could still take his Archine form, just like Artaqifa. The two Princes faced each other as Artaqifa softly touched down.

"It has been half a millennium," Artaqifa said. "How are the affairs of Earth?"

"I have learned much that the Lord of Spirits did not explain to us in the Heaven. I know the secrets of power through Human sacrifice. Earth offers an inheritance for us, if we are willing to take it."

"An inheritance?"

For the Angels, having an inheritance was deeply desired. Because Humans were born of a father and mother, each Human had a testimony from life on Earth. But, Angels had no such testimony. Finding an inheritance anywhere seemed adequate to compensate for their lack of testimony.

What none of the Angels knew—neither the Luminaries nor the Separate, not even Michael and Gadreel—was the One's plan for Humans to become the testimony of the Archine—and by extension the Seraphim, Cherubim, and perhaps even the Ophannim themselves. In the accounts of Artaqifa, Gadreel, and the rest of the Fallen, the Human testimony was to the great destruction they caused on Earth. In the accounts of Michael, Gabriel, and the rest of the Separate who did not rebel, Human testimony concerning them was of redemption and brotherhood.

Humans and Angels who cooperate would eventually have some of the greatest testimonies known in the annals of the Heaven. But, that would not happen until a certain Angel would reach out to Humanity in an unusual way—and Humanity, in a way that would seem unusual at the time, would reach back.

"Have you ever asked why the Lord of Spirits made the Seraphim male and female, yet closed the females? Yet still, He made us, the Archine, as male. Patience may explain the Seraphim, but where is our inheritance and who shall be companions for us?"

"I have not pondered these things, dear Gadreel. But, it had always been said that our inheritance would be in the Heaven and the expanse beyond."

"The Lord of Spirits said many things, but He refuses to tell His secrets for fear that we might overthrow Him. Now, look what we have achieved. Where is the Lord of Spirits? We are here and He is not seen. So, let me show you what I have seen."

Gadreel went with Artaqifa to watch the Humans and to see the beautiful daughters of Men and how men knew them.

"Is this an inheritance we can claim?" asked Artaqifa.

"I have already claimed it. Behold, my own," and Gadreel showed Artaqifa a giant, his son, standing 150 yards tall by Human and Angelic measurements.

"There is certainly much that the Lord of Spirits has not revealed to us. It makes me glad that I trusted you, brother."

"Through our inheritance and murder, we shall gain control of Earth. Once we gather our forces, we can launch our assault against the Heaven and overthrow the Lord of Spirits."

"But, you have lost four of your wings and the Separate wield swords of unexplained strength. There is no way for us to return from where we have fallen. What is your plan for these things?"

Artaqifa's disagreement was a mere inquiry, not the least hostile. Moreover, his point was irrefutable. Yet, Gadreel harbored resentment, for he did not know how to receive opposition, even in friendship or questions on how to give aid. Of course, though he kept his resentment hidden, he immediately began to plot against Artaqifa.

"You could go to the others and bring them here. You and I are the only ones who have seen what awaits us. And, don't worry about the Heaven. Even if we can't overpower the Lord of Spirits and the Hosts of the Heaven, with our strength in Earth, the Lord of Spirits will remain in the Heaven and we will stay here, on Earth, where it is can be beautiful at times..."

The sunrise interrupted Gadreel as he spoke. They both turned to watch it crest over the horizon. As it finished its morning rise, they continued to gaze while speaking.

"You're right, brother. There is nothing for us in the skies. The lesser star we traveled on is barren, though we have mounted a stronghold and should maintain a force there. How many of the Luminaries do we need to come down?"

"I say you should bring them all. Forget your stronghold on the lesser star. Leave everything behind."

"I agree with you, brother, but the others may not be convinced."

"They will be convinced when you show them the daughters of Men."

"There, you have a point, oh, wise, younger brother. I shall bring down Semjaza."

So that morning, Artaqifa returned to the lesser star as it continued its approach toward Earth. With the travel distance shortening with each day, he and Semjaza, their chief Prince, stole away into the night and found Gadreel the following morning.

Semjaza was indeed smitten by the beautiful daughters of Men, as well as the power they could claim on Earth through Human sacrifice, not to mention the delicious taste of innocent blood spilt by unjust murder.

"You must act quickly," Gadreel said. "The lesser star will soon pass and journeys will take longer. Go, hold counsel with the others. After six cycles of the moon, the lesser star will pass Earth again before it departs from the sun. You will have time to consider and prepare. Then, bring them all down, for nothing remains for us in the Heaven or the expanse above."

Agreeing with Gadreel, Semjaza and Artaqifa returned to the lesser star and held counsel with the other Archine Princes, powers, forces, and lesser Angels, as well as the Fallen Seraphim. Artaqifa told them of the beauty of the daughters of Men and the great power and delicious blood that awaited them on Earth.

"So, there is nothing for us in the Heaven or the expanse," he concluded. "Let us go down to Earth and find our inheritance there." After beseeching his brethren to leave not only the Heaven, but also their fortress on the plains of the lesser star, Artaqifa became known as Asbeel, meaning _deserter from God_.

Hearing the stories from Asbeel and Semjaza, and having been on the wasteland of the lesser star for half of a millennium, they asked Semjaza to lead them down to Earth. Then, Semjaza said, "I fear that you will not follow through with this and I alone will bear the penalty for a great sin."

They replied, "Let's all swear an oath and bind ourselves by mutual imprecations that we will not abandon this plan, but follow through with it."

So, they bound themselves by mutual imprecations and began to prepare their fortress for evacuation.

* * * * *

Gadreel wasted no time as the others held counsel on the lesser star. For among them was his enemy, Asbeel, whom he still knew as Artaqifa, and secretly resented for not agreeing with him. Though he was friendly toward them, he owed them no loyalty. Over the next six moon cycles, Gadreel searched and found Earth's best place for land strategy—the land which would become known as the land of Canaan.

So, in the brief time he had left, he incited many murders there, all throughout the land. This gave him claim to the land, which would allow him to teach those who lived there to do witchcraft and sorcery—to incite more murder and immorality and, in this way, he increased his power over that land all the more.

But, he only taught those practices of the occult outside of the land of Canaan. Within that land, Gadreel only incited men to slay one another, thereby unwittingly performing the ritual of Human sacrifice, through which he gained his power. Because he never exercised his sorcery there, the other Fallen Angels would never see the evidence of his great power he had claimed through the land of Canaan.

The others were not yet versed in this form of the occult, nor in the art of land warfare upon Earth, since they had only been on Earth for two mornings and not even one night. So, by the time the Fallen Angels descended to Earth, the Dragon's grip on the land of Canaan was great, but only the Dragon knew that he had any power there at all.

Over the previous five hundred years, Gadreel had already established places of sorcery throughout Earth. When the Luminaries arrived, these places would be attractive to them. Gadreel would claim the land of Canaan, a small lot, not valuable in the eyes of the other Luminaries, and he did this to publically demonstrate his false charity and win the favor of the others. If the Heaven became angry and Raguel took vengeance on the Luminaries, Gadreel would have a seemingly unimportant place to hide while the others took the blame. Then, he would have his own sweet revenge against Asbeel for daring to disagree with him.

But, the Dragon did not know with certainty what the future held.

After six cycles of the moon, the lesser star came near to Earth, just before it would continue its course through the Heavens, not to return for almost three millennia. All of the Luminaries came down: the Archine Princes and their Powers and their Forces, as well as the lesser Archine and the Fallen Seraphim—the most notable Fallen Seraph among them, Mystery.

They approached from the sky where they saw Gadreel in the twilight, waiting for them in the land of Canaan. They called the mount on which they descended Mount Hermon because, there, they swore an oath and bound themselves by mutual imprecations. The leaders among them were, in all, about two hundred. This happened during the life of Jared.

The Luminaries laid claim to the places where sorcery was practiced and they were all too glad to give the land of Canaan to Gadreel, who kept his intentions secret. Then, they went to know the daughters of Men, who they gave birth to great giants. These giants demanded the resources of civilization and placed heavy burdens on working Men. Evil filled Earth.

* * * * *

The children born from the Angels to the daughters of Men, the _Nephilim_ or _giants_ as they were called, were neither born of the will of the Lord or Spirits nor of Men. So, the giants had no souls, but only spirits of darkness and filth. The touchpoints of their spirits were like those of animals—seven touchpoints, yet no mind.

Though they had no souls, they had limited communication with Men, like a parrot who mimics the tongues of Men to get what it wants or a dog who begs for food. They were born from immorality and greed. So, when they died, unclean spirits proceeded from them and sought rest in Humans—especially Humans who practiced the occult, immorality, and Human sacrifice. In this way, even greater evil began to fill Earth.

Mystery primarily found herself among the Fallen Archine. They found an inheritance for themselves among the daughters of Men. But, she mourned, for she was alone. Nonetheless, her choir sang beautifully and she trained Men in the ways of music and meter. At last, she seduced one of the kings and discovered that, in her Fallen state, she was able to know him. Of the Fallen Seraphim, only Mystery had been able to seduce kings among Men.

Because her child was born of the will of Man, he thus had a soul and was named _Tabaet_ , and was also known as the _son of the serpent_ or _son of the Seraph_. He would rise at the noon time and create mischief and murder. Because he was from royalty, he prepared occult rituals and Human sacrifices in palaces and courtyards of kings and Human Princes. In this way, Mystery learned how to use the occult to seduce and influence not only kings, but their nations through them.

* * * * *

So, the Fallen sought an inheritance for themselves on Earth among Man. They instructed Man, just as the Ophannim had instructed them. But, they lacked one thing the Ophannim had: preknowledge.

Gadreel mostly taught the blows of death and to use weapons of death, coats of mail, and swords.

Azazel taught Men how to work metal to create weapons and jewelry and how to beautify eyelids and to prepare coloring tincture.

Semjaza taught root cutting for agriculture, medicine, and enchantments; Armaros taught the resolving of enchantments.

Baraqijal taught astrology, Ezeqeel, knowledge of the clouds, Araqiel, signs of Earth, Shamsiel, signs of the sun, Sariel, the course of the moon... but most interesting of all was Kokabel.

As Kokabel taught about the constellations, he also taught about the laws of constellations—that some things must be while other things cannot be. Having his logic twisted three and a half millennia before by Gadreel, then Armen, he knew the power of argument and he feared the joyful rebuttals of Phanuel.

So, Kokabel taught Men to give oaths in writing—to make written testimony of their promises between each other. In this, he perverted Human covenant, making it an artificial institution which was therefore easier to control and therefore easier to break. Though he sold this idea to Men in the name of wisdom, it was merely from his spite for Phanuel and his desire to control Men by tying their tongues with ink. Thereafter, Kokabel became known as Penemue.

Then, there was the beginning of sorcery...

Kasdeja, who had been known in the Heaven as Turael, taught Men to smite spirits, demons, and embryos. This was witchcraft, the basis of sorcery—which applies powers from witchcraft to physical objects. It was essentially as much as fundamentally a myth that Humans would command power over spirits and over Angels and smite them. Actually, Fallen Angels merely appeared to be "controlled" by Man, in this way, in order to acquire more power for their wicked plans on Earth.

The greatest act to grant the Fallen Angels power was done through Human sacrifice. The most brilliant Human sacrifice of all Kasdeja's inventions was the smiting of embryos so that children die in the womb. This gave power of witchcraft to the mothers who smote their own or agreed that their own be smitten. Such was the practice of aspiring witches who sought to consecrate their own bodies for witchcraft. And, this further increased immorality among Men, also furthering the Fallen purposes.

It was from Kasdeja where Humanity learned the term _dark magic_. Of course, all witchcraft and sorcery is dark and filthy. Kasdeja first flaunted its darkness openly, claiming that it was "misunderstood". He taught the higher practitioners to sweep their halls and thus have the appearance of cleanliness, leaving their filth to their followers on whom they so dearly depended.

As Men learned these deep secrets of constellations and Earth, and as they learned powers of sorcery from witchcraft, Humanity fell under heavy oppression. All the while, a vast and dark kingdom emerged beneath the Fallen Watchers. When their kingdom became great, Uriel and Raguel visited Earth to bring tidings and to look more closely at what had transpired.

Spotting them at a distance, Semjaza went out to taunt them, saying, "What have you in the Heaven that can compete with this? We have mastered Earth and instructed Man, just as the Ophannim instructed us. They worship us and our glory is greatest when we are here on Earth. Have you come only to covet? For there is no other purpose for you here."

"While you are on Earth," Uriel replied, "building your kingdom on the backs of Humans who were created for much more than you can lead them to, remember that their world is under my watch, as is Tartarus where you will one day go. The Lord of Spirits will descend to Earth in His own time. He has charged me with preparing it for Him. I show you mercy because the Lord of Spirits commands me in all these, but has not commanded me to persecute you."

"Ha! The Lord of Spirits wouldn't dare to come here. He's much too busy receiving the praise of Seraphim. He would never leave His comfortable Throne."

"You wouldn't know of the dealings of the Heaven," Raguel responded, "because you have been down here. If it were as you say, we would not have come here."

After that simple exchange, the two Holy Princes returned to the sky, ignoring the taunts of Semjaza. They took their report before the Lord of Spirits and sent some of the lower Archine to watch the dealings of Humanity and to report any complaint that may to rise toward the Heaven.

After that day, Semjaza changed his name to Jeqon, which means _inciter_ , for when tidings came to him, he incited further wrath from the realm of the Heaven. He had taken this name of his own initiative because, as an inciter, he celebrated what he had done.

* * * * *

Not long after Jeqon taunted Raguel and Uriel, Humanity could no longer sustain the Nephilim children of the Fallen.

So, the giants began to devour Humans, eating them alive. Their Fallen fathers thirsted for Human blood and so did they. Within a few generations after the Luminaries descended on Mount Hermon, Earth was in disaster.

When there were not enough Humans for the giants to eat, they began to attack and eat each other. Immorality gave power to witchcraft and evil covered Earth more every day.

There was a righteous man, a scribe who lived somewhere to the North, though, no one knew his exact whereabouts. His name was Enoch. He wrote with fairness and most of his doings involved the Watchers, both the Separate Angels and the Fallen Luminaries.

Enoch called on the name of the Lord of Spirits, just as his forefather, Enosh did. Enosh was the first Man to ever call on the name of the Lord of Spirits and thus was born this form of prayer among the righteous.

Though they called on the name of the Lord of Spirits, they did not know the name of the Son—the Lamb who would one day take away the darkness of sin from the world. For even though the Son had been named long ago in the Heaven, His name would not yet be revealed to Man.

So, Enoch was among the doers of righteousness who called on the name of the Lord—as the Lord of Spirits was known to Man—thus unknowingly and temporarily loosed the power of the Son in Earth. This was necessary for Enoch's survival because the righteous depended on protection offered by the Separate Angels. Without Man inviting power from the Son, the Separate Angels could do nothing in Earth.

Those Separate Angels from the Heaven were Enoch's friends and, soon after Uriel and Raphael had their encounter with Jeqon, Michael, Gabriel, and other Separate Archine Princes often visited Earth to have fellowship with Enoch. Enoch would wander off for years at a time, then he would return to society, only to leave again.

While wicked Men learned about constellations from the Fallen Luminaries, Enoch learned from Michael, whom the Son taught the oath to control those constellations.

The constellations told a story of how the Lord of Spirits created the Heaven and Earth, how He redeemed, and how Earth would be saved through the only Son of Man who descends from the Heaven. This story of the stars became known as the Zodiac, but the true story, as told by Archine Prince Michael, was mostly forgotten.

Originally, the Zodiac did not relate to astrology. It was an encouragement to the righteous—a sign that the Heaven remembered Earth.

As wickedness had covered Earth, tears and complaint from Humanity rose to the Heaven. Michael and the others went to the Lord of Spirits and said, "You foresaw these things. What shall be done?"

So, the Lord of Spirits sent the Separate Princes to Enoch with a message for the Fallen Watchers. For the Luminaries had neither listened to the Lord of Spirits nor to their Separate brethren. Enoch was the first prophet called by the Lord of Spirits and his prophecy was to the Fallen Princes.

The Fallen would not harm Enoch because they knew he was righteous and, so, he had given them no cause to hate him. Even if they wanted to harm him, the Ophannin did not allow Angels to harm Humans, except through sorcery and witchcraft born of Human sacrifice, which involved the will of other Humans. Such evil did not have power over Enoch, because, though he had the darkness of sin living in his body from Adam's choice, he had given the evil ones no invitation to enter his life or his spirit.

So, Enoch gave the message of the Lord of Spirits to the Fallen Luminaries, "You have brought great destruction on Earth. You shall not find peace, nor shall you be forgiven. Just as much as you have enjoyed your robbery of Man, so you shall see destruction of your loved ones and all you have built."

After hearing, the Luminaries wept without tears. Then, they asked Enoch to give their petition to the Lord of Spirits, because, as they claimed, they were no longer allowed to enter the courts of the Heaven. Actually, this was not so, and Enoch knew it was not so. If they sought audience with the Lord of Spirits, they could always ask for aid from any of the Separate Princes to carry them. But, because Enoch was a scribe who wrote rightly, he agreed to give their petition to the Lord of Spirits.

It was a long petition. The Luminaries were not short with words, mostly because they knew that there were no words to excuse what they had done. But, also, from their history of accusing in the halls of the Heaven with false accusation, lengthy speech had become their habit since they were rarely in the right and their deeds were not enough vindicate them.

Enoch went to his place of prayer and began reading the Luminaries' petition. It was so lengthy without need that, as Enoch read, he fell asleep and had a dream. Then, the Lord of Spirits spoke to him, "Tell the unholy Watchers who have destroyed Earth: You sent Man to appeal on your behalf!? YOU should have appealed for Man!! So, your request will not be granted, no matter how much you weep. I had prepared an inheritance for you in the Heaven and its Heavens, but you went to Earth and sought your inheritance like Men of Earth. Therefore, from your children, the giants, evil spirits shall proceed from them and this is how they shall be known. By your teaching, Man has destroyed, but you did not yet learn all from the Heaven, neither what is yet to be revealed nor what came before you. Because you revealed destructive secrets to Man, you yourselves shall have no peace."

So, Enoch went and delivered the message from the Lord of Spirits to the Fallen Watchers. Then, the Lord of Spirits told the Archine Princes, "Michael, go, and bind Semjaza, the inciter of my wrath, and bind all those with him, because they taught the hidden things to Men and now Earth is in ruin. Uriel, go to Noah, grandson of Enoch, and give him My warning about the coming flood and give him My instructions to build an ark. Raphael, bind Azazel and dig a pit in the Northern wasteland and bury him there, where he shall remain. Gabriel, go and destroy all of the Nephilim—the evil giants who destroy Earth."

* * * * *

Once Michael descended to Earth, he captured Semjaza and Artaqifa, who had changed their names to Jeqon and Asbeel. When Gabriel was destroying the Nephilim, the remaining three original Fallen Archine Princes fled.

Kokabel, who had changed his name to Penemue, fled to the land of Uz. Turael, who had changed his name to Kasdeja, fled to Egypt. Gadreel, fearing that he would be found, hid himself in the land of Canaan. Of course, these who fled never knew that the Lord of Spirits had other purposes in not yet naming them for destruction. They were allowed to flee. Were it not for the greater plans of the Lord of Spirits, Uriel would have captured all of them during those days.

As Raphael dug a hole in the Northern wasteland, the promoted Prince, Azazel, sensing danger, was filled with rage against Gadreel. So, Azazel went to Mystery. "Raphael will soon capture me. Go and hide yourself in the sea and only seduce cities that are near the sea. For Gadreel brought this on us, having us execute his plans, and we bear his blame. But, where is he now? So, do not emerge from the sea until Gadreel pays you full homage. And, if you send spirits to the place where I will be imprisoned, I will teach them to give you power so Gadreel will at last bend his knee to you."

So, Azazel and Mystery parted, just before Raphael captured and bound him. Mystery, the Fallen Seraph, hid herself in the floodwaters as Earth was covered and, thereafter, remained in the sea. Accordingly, she sought to establish her harlotry near the great cities of Earth, which were built on great rivers and by the shores of the sea.

Like Enoch before him, Noah was a righteous man, who called on the name of the Lord. After he built the ark, the Lord of Spirits opened His floodgates to bless Humanity and the face of Earth was covered with Heaven's tears, which washed away the occult practices of sorcery and witchcraft, established by the Fallen Watchers. Gadreel was the greatest of the Fallen Angels who were not captured. The Lord of Spirits allowed this for many reasons which are not known. But, it is known to all that, though the Dragon lies more than any other, his plans collapse more than any other, and he turns on his brethren, just like he lured Azazel into bringing upon himself the wrath of Raphael.

As the floods receded from Earth, the Lord of Spirits said, "So Earth shall be covered in tears and the sea of the face of Earth will be great and it will taste like tears, and Earth shall mourn for the great evil done by the Fallen Watchers, until I descend in Glory and Wrath against the remaining Luminaries among Man." Then, the Lord of Spirits placed a rainbow in the skies of Earth, as a reminder to Man that the Throne in the Heaven understands and that immorality and witchcraft would never again need to be swept with water. For the Heaven's tears had been emptied onto Earth, their work was complete, and the Heaven had no more tears to give because they had washed away every need. The rainbow in Earth came from light and tears of the sky. Next time evil mounted so high, judgment would come from the skies by light.

Now, because Noah was a righteous man, he and his family could be trusted with the secret knowledge which the Fallen Luminaries had taught to Humanity, along with the wisdom passed down through Enoch. Noah was not reckless with this knowledge, but used it to preserve life and to train his family in wisdom and fairness.

With knowledge filtered through the hands of a righteous man—the same man who saw, foresaw, and survived destruction from partial knowledge given too soon—everything on the face of Earth was set aright and Humankind began anew.
**Settle**

After the floodwaters receded and the evil spirits from the Nephilim had settled throughout Earth, Gadreel saw the power of the Heaven when it wages war against Earth and the disaster that came from having overplayed his hand. He decided that finding the knowledge to overthrow the Lord of Spirits and conquer the Heaven would not be as easy as he once thought. But, he could at least harness Man, whether it allowed him to conquer the Heaven or not.

From that point on, rather than seducing Humanity with the promise, "If you follow me, you shall become like God," he would say, "If you follow me, you shall become God, for God Himself became."

He also spoke evil of the Heaven, the Lord of Spirits, and the Heaven's Angels. "The Heaven plans to invade and destroy Earth," he taught in his lies. While it was true that the Armies of the Heaven would invade, their invasion would deliver Earth from Gadreel's deception and destruction. Gadreel knew this. So, he even developed long-worded explanations, in hopes of deceiving the righteous. As a result, many Men were confused.

As children of men multiplied, they built a great city, Babylon, where the Euphrates and the Tigris came together. Gadreel planned this location since Mystery would have easy access to the water. Seeing the large city on her shores, she was sure to visit.

The king of Babylon attained his throne through murder and deceit, so Gadreel gave him great power and taught him in secret. At last, when the city of Babylon rose to its peak, the Heaven foresaw danger. The throne of Babylon threatened to restore much of the evil that the floodwaters had washed away. So, the Lord of Spirits commanded them, "Be fruitful, multiply, fill Earth, and subdue it."

This command brought fear to the king of Babylon. If Humanity grew, and took control over the whole of Earth, he would not be able to control them. If they left Babylon, his occult would be challenged and then forgotten. Gadreel fueled the king's fear into panic and the king distrusted the Lord of Spirits.

One day, as the queen of Babylon walked by the shore of the Tigris, and Gadreel was with her, invisible, Mystery emerged from the water.

"Mystery!" Gadreel said. "At last you have come."

"I wanted to see what the children of men were doing here at the edge of the waters," she said in her musical way.

"The queen is distraught since the Lord of Spirits commanded Humanity to disperse and subdue Earth. I was hoping you might be able to help her."

"The power of the Lord of Spirits is great in the Heaven."

"Yes, but the power of murder is also great in Earth. Much blood has been spilled and I have control over the queen, and she controls the king."

"Do they know you even exist?" she asked.

"Of course not yet. They only know powerful voices in their heads, in which I speak many."

"Well done."

"Without having seen either of us, the king and queen remain naive and vulnerable."

"What can I do?" Mystery responded.

"You can direct her," Gadreel said. "You've always been a good director. Seduce her and the children of men will satisfy themselves on immorality rather than multiplying and subduing Earth. While they are distracted, we will feed from their sin and will show the queen the deep secrets of control known only to us."

"There is something else you may want to know."

"Yes?"

"I have found the spirit of my son, Tabaet."

"Yes! He is a very powerful spirit indeed. Can you control him?"

"Oh, yes. I ride him like a beast."

"Nothing is more dangerous than a mother who controls her own son."

"...and a wife who controls her husband," Mystery added.

"Oh, yes indeed," Gadreel added. "I used Eve to deceive Adam. It's time to make our move against the king."

So they appeared before the queen of Babylon, at the waters of the Tigris, far from the center of the city where no one was watching. Seeing Gadreel and Mystery appear as masculine and feminine beings in the image of Men, she was surprised and enthralled at the same time.

"We mean you no harm," Mystery began. "We have come from the Heaven to help you."

"What do you want?" the queen asked.

"Did God say to multiply and subdue Earth?" Gadreel asked.

"It seems he did," said the queen.

"You know why, don't you?"

"No. I only wish I did. My kingdom will soon be in ruin."

"The Lord of Spirits is deceptive and dangerous," hissed Gadreel, even in the form of Man. "He knows that, if Humanity does not perish, that you will lose your power."

"My power?" the queen was curious.

"Yes. Much of your success and power came from me. I gave it to you. I've tried to help you as much as I could. And, as you have discovered, the secret to gaining power is Human sacrifice. You murdered many of your friends and taught your king to do the same to achieve your place, but there is much more you could do."

"More? Can I preserve my kingdom?"

"Of course you can."

"How?"

"Through your harlotry. You were born of a harlot and that's what you shall teach all Babylon to do. Become the mother of all harlots and train your husband in the ways of Human sacrifice. For this, unwanted babes are ideal."

"And, I shall do this in Babylon?"

"You shall in Babylon and in dispersion."

"But, God commanded us to fill Earth. How can our empire last if Humanity migrates beyond the watchful eye of Babylon?"

"You don't need to listen to that God. He only wants to make a name for Himself."

"We should receive the name for ourselves," the queen said gazing at the waters. Gadreel's tail, still invisible, crept into the queen from behind as a hand enters a puppet. "I worked tirelessly, men built my city with their sweat and blood, but this God has not been seen. How dare He command us!"

"You have not built the greatest of all towers," Mystery spoke up. "If you build a great tower—more magnificent than any before—men will stay under the watch of Babylon so they can behold their city and worship the work of their hands."

"Babylon has already built the greatest towers that can be built," boasted the queen. "What would be so special to make a tower greater than all the others?"

"Build a tower of mystery."

"A tower of mystery?"

"Yes, very tall, very grand, and at the top of its stairs, a doorway to Heaven."

"How will we make such a doorway?" the queen asked.

"You can open one through daily Human sacrifices," Gadreel added. "But, you should tell this to very few people. Your husband, the king, must oversee the construction of this tower and its Human sacrifices so that you will not be implicated. You know how to make your man do you will."

"Oh, yes I do. And, he never suspects."

"Good," Gadreel continued. "Then, ensure that an architect of the tower is appointed and that he receives the credit. This will keep your lower minions further distracted. They must not know that the architect of the tower is only a puppet of the king nor must they know that the king is but another puppet of your charming hand."

"And, what of God's command to subdue Earth? When this God, the Lord of Heaven, gives a command, it enters the hearts of His people to obey Him. Surely Humanity will want the power and dominion He plans to share with all Mankind. How can we overcome their desire to fill Earth?"

Gadreel smiled with an evil grin, looking down toward the shore of the Tigris. "Teach all the people to form factions and worship many different gods. As they quarrel, make each one believe his cause is just. Cultivate a culture of competition without unity. Claim that constant friction will make them stronger. This will keep them distracted, fighting each other. Then, teach them all to adore nature without praising the Maker. Tell them that Earth is their common mother; make them idolize her such that they feel orphaned and forget their Father in Heaven. By exploiting their sentiments for beauty you can control them like animals."

So, the queen went to her husband, the king of Babylon, and taught him the deep secrets of Mystery, promising great power if he would institute Human sacrifices.

Far above Babylon, a Cherub circled the sky. With the flood of Earth, the Paradise had been hidden away where wicked Men would never find it. The road leading to it had been washed and there was no more need to stand guard. The Cherub flew with two of his wings, the other two folded back. He face of Man looked down toward Earth and Babylon below, his eagle face looking ahead.

Gadreel and Mystery did not notice the Cherub in the skies far above because they did not care to gaze upward. Their focus remained on Babylon and mischief on Earth. But, the Heaven was watching, not only the Archine and not only the Lord of Spirits who sees all, but the Cherubim and Gabriel who commands them also were directly involved in the developments of Man.

* * * * *

When the Dragon abandoned his hiding at Tyre, northmost of Canaan, Gabriel pursued him while Michael kept watch at Uz.

"What do you want now!" Gadreel hissed at Gabriel, tasting the air.

"You still haven't adapted," came a voice from above. Raphael descended to join Gabriel.

"I try to," Gadreel whined. "I mind my own business. I am sitting here at Babylon, not bothering either you, yet here you are. What do you want?"

"The people were told to disperse," Raphael explained like a disappointed judge for an art contest, pointing out a rule that had been broken.

"The people were told to do a lot of things. Always burdens, burdens from your rules!"

"The rules are no mystery," Gabriel said. "Nothing good can come from lingering too long. We don't want Men to learn the hard way, which was why the announcement came to disperse."

"Babylon was a great place," Raphael continued. "But, nothing on Earth is forever. It's time for them to move on."

"So, move them on then. And, move on yourselves while you're at it." Gadreel laid his head down on a coiled section of his tail, turning away his head and closing his eyes, still tasting the air.

"Actually, that's what I'm here for."

"What do you mean?" Gadreel lifted his head, looking up at Raphael.

"Yes, what do you mean?" Gabriel asked Raphael, turning, cocking his head.

"This tower—the Heaven couldn't help but notice."

"Finally a compliment," Gadreel hissed, laying down his head and closing his eyes again, still tasting the air.

"It wasn't aimed at you." Raphael looked down at Gadreel coiled up on the ground. "Though, I see you take credit. You didn't by chance have anything to do with this tower, did you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I see," Raphael said. "Well, it's clear that Men can do anything if they put their minds to it."

"Your point?" Gadreel still kept his eyes closed.

"Just observing. Anyhow, we don't want to interfere..."

"You've done plenty of that!" Gadreel said looking up.

Both Gabriel and Raphael looked down at Gadreel, eyes and mouths wide as if a five year old had just offered instructions on how to build a house.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gadreel said closing his eyes again.

"It's time to speed things up. Show's over." Gadreel wasn't even watching as Raphael unsheathed what looked like a short dagger from a harness under his left arm. He held it straight above his head and lightly tapped the flat of the blade with his index finger. As he did, a light ping sound resonated through the air as a gold color rippled outward for about 200 miles.

"Where'd you get that?" Gabriel asked.

"From the Son. He sent me here." Raphael said, sheathing the blade.

"So, you've been talking."

"Yeah, this whole Babylon not branching-out thing..."

"Cut with the babble, you two," Gadreel looked up. "What was that noise?"

"Oh, you're still awake," Raphael said, spreading his wings, lifting upward. "I'm off."

"Wait! What's happening?" Gadreel hissed in shock. "The... the... the building! It... it..."

"Stopped?"

"Stopped!"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Maybe you should try listening more."

"I'm trying, but you keep talking! What? They're grouping up and spreading out?"

"Maybe you should listen to what they're saying." Gabriel didn't leave, but just stood still as Gadreel turned his head to listen to the commotion in Babylon.

"They are all speaking different languages. You did something! You made them split up and that made them speak different languages."

"Oh, Gadreel, if only you paid attention more."

"Well, now you're secret's out!"

"What secret?"

"Divide and conquer! Get Men to clique up into factions and their work will stop."

"You still didn't explain the languages."

"That's just an after effect. Stop distracting."

"Well, they're leaving and so am I." Gabriel started walking away, west northwestward. "Maybe I'll go visit somewhere near Canaan," he said, his voice carrying from the short distance.

Gadreel kept looking at the different groups of people spreading out in various directions. From a distance he saw Mystery accompanying a caravan headed due west. "What is happening!?" the Dragon hissed to himself.

Then, he turned his gaze to the unfinished tower in the center of the city—the tower of mystery that he and Mystery had devised together with the queen of Babylon. Perhaps it held some secret after all. He couldn't see anything special about it, but maybe the Lord of Spirits feared that this tower could overpower Him! With everyone gone, maybe he could establish a new stronghold there. It could become a throne as great and powerful as the Throne in the Heaven. It might even be able to destroy the Heaven if... But, as Gadreel continued his daydream, the Cherub descended into Babylon and stood atop tower in the center of the city. "Not again..." Gadreel took one good look at the Cherub, then slithered off.

* * * * *

There was a man in Uz who called on the name of the Lord. His name was Job. He was righteous in all his ways and only sought counsel from the Lord of Spirits, never from the stars nor from any witch or sorcerer or astrologist nor any other seer. One Accuser in particular hated Job because he gave no grounds for any evil spirit to control him nor for any of the remaining Fallen Watchers to lay claim to the land he possessed nor to the life the Lord of Spirits had given him.

At last, this Accuser approached the Lord of Spirits on a special day when Phanuel did not ward-off the Accusers. This day had been established in the justice of the Lord of Spirits, so He would hear-out the complaints from Fallen Angels. For the Lord of Spirits will even hear the arguments from evil before rendering a decision.

Of course, the Lord of Spirits knew all about this Accuser's intentions, even before he approached the Throne. The Accuser was afraid to mention anything about Job in the Heaven's court. So, it was the Lord of Spirits who finally provoked him to accuse Job in the court of the Heaven. "Have you considered my servant, Job?" the Lord of Spirits asked. That was all it took and the Accuser's jealousy overpowered his masked demeanor.

"He only praises You because you bless him!" the Accuser burst. "Let him taste the bitter darkness and he will curse you!"

The Lord of Spirits never conceded that the Accuser was correct; He only granted permission to use weather and circumstance against Job. So, that Accuser came against Job with all the force the Lord of Spirits had allotted him, including armies of Men who practiced the occult.

Initially, Job blessed the Lord of Spirits in his turmoil. He even blessed the Lord of Spirits for his turmoil, crediting the Lord of Spirits for the good things that come through hardship. In all of this, Job did not accuse the Lord of Spirits of any fault or guilt, but praised Him for the hidden blessings found only in times of trouble. Since Job was wealthy, he, of all people, knew that even the season of winter helps trees grow deep.

But, after taking counsel with his so-called friends, Job forgot the wisdom the Lord of Spirits had given him and he finally accused his Maker, becoming an Accuser himself, though his accusation lasted but a brief moment.

He cried out to the Lord of Spirits, "I demand to know why you punish me so? I sought the Maker of the Heaven and Earth and never sought counsel from evil in Earth nor from any star in the skies, which He created! Is it for this that You punish me?"

While those righteous deeds were the motive behind Job's pain, it came not from the Lord of Spirits punishing him, but the Accuser who persecuted him. Of course, allowing this Accuser was part of a greater plan from the Heaven, Job's own benefit being only one part of the Heaven's larger war strategy.

So, the Lord of Spirits answered Job. Chastening his spirit with the sarcasm and joyful message of wrath, He dispatched Phanuel to rebuke Job. Phanuel came in a whirlwind, parked at the doorstep of the house from where Job accused, and read the words of the Lord of Spirits to Job for all to hear, "Who darkens My counsel to give Me advice? Where were you when I laid the foundation of Earth? Who determines its measurements and shuts the doors of the sea? Have you commanded the morning? Have you walked the bottom of the sea or laid its foundation? Where were you when the morning stars sang their first? Have you taught the dawn its place? Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades or loose Orion's belt? Can you send down lightning? Does the hawk soar according to your wisdom?"

Seeing his folly, unlike the Accusers who fell from the Heaven, Job, a once righteous man turned Accuser himself, repented unto Hope, proving that the Fallen Watchers had no excuse. For this was the work of Phanuel in him: the repentance unto Hope for those who inherit Eternal Life.

"No faultfinder can contend with the Lord God," Job cried from the depth of his soul. "I know that You can do anything and nothing can thwart Your good purposes. Before, I had heard about You with my ears, but now I have seen You and I see how spiteful I am in light of You."

Then the Lord of Spirits blessed Job and commanded that his friends make an offering as recompense for their words. And, He asked Job to pray for them—and so he did and his friends made their recompense for their false accusations.

After this, Job feared nothing except the Lord of Spirits who loved him. Because Job's wisdom and fear of the Lord of Spirits had increased, that Accuser lost his power in Earth, because he had slandered a righteous man in the Throneroom of the Heaven and the Heaven did not forget.

No sooner had Job blessed the Lord of Spirits than Michael drew his sword and sped to the land of Uz, where Job's vanquished Accuser was pursuing yet another righteous man. That Accuser had not returned to the Heaven since the Lord of Spirits answered Job from the whirlwind. But, Michael would not let this false Accuser run free, especially now that he had given Michael the grounds to wage war against him.

"Michael!"

"Kokabel. Or would you now like me to call you Penemue..." Michael called as he charged at Job's Accuser in fury.

Dodging Michael's attack—barely—Penemue protested, "Why dost thou attack me?"

"You tried to take Job's estate, which the Lord of Spirits had entrusted to his stewardship. You wore him down through false accusation. That was quite a hostile thing you did. No feigned inquiry you conjure can cover that up—now that Job has blessed the Lord of Spirits for the very evil you could not have done without permission."

Penemue's sword somewhat resembled a giant pen, especially at the hilt, and had a tip much like a fountain pen at the point. Though pens were not widely used among Men at the time, the power of the pen was always Penemue's ambition, and the Watchers knew technologies far beyond any stylus of Man. Pens were invented in the Heaven, but first exploited on Earth by the Luminaries. So, throughout Human history, both the righteous and the unrighteous made many pens in the likeness of Penemue's sword. As with any tool of war, evil and righteousness never come from the pen itself, but from the one who wields it.

Michael's sword came down against Penemue again. The Accuser dodged and finally drew his sword.

"All my efforts... all the good I tried to do him..." Swords clashed again and again. "I only wanted to protect him."

"Is that why I find you turning toward Ur, stalking Terah?"

"Terah only does righteousness because God blesses him!"

"You tried that accusation against Job and he proved you wrong. You didn't take your own accusation seriously since you ignored the obvious verdict."

"What verdict?"

"You have exhausted your case."

"And?"

"And, now the case is closed."

"You have no standing. Why is it your business anyway?"

"It is you who had no standing against Job, unless you think he has something you rightly claim." Swords continued to clash as Penemue darted and dashed from Michael's slices. "You falsely accused Job in the court of the Heaven—running to the Lord of Spirits for special permission to harm Job because you didn't have standing to get that permission on your own... You do know, of course, that, by asking for permission from the Throne, you acknowledged that He is the Lord over you! Or, didn't you care about that implication, either?"

"No! No!" Penemue screamed as he retreated behind a rock. "I never conceded that the Lord of Spirits had more right to power than I did!"

"Then what say you?...Unless this is another filibuster."

"The Lord of Spirits is merely an occupying force to be reckoned with."

"Reckoned with? It is you who occupy Earth, only with statutory loopholes from the unwitting cooperation of the first Men. He doesn't merely occupy the Throne, He made the foundations on which it sits through mysteries neither of us know. Besides, since you know He is a force to be reckoned with, you know He is also a force you should not blaspheme."

"Just because I say He is an occupying force, you say that I blaspheme?"

"Yes. And, we can walk through rocks, you know," Michael commented as he charged through the rock Penemue hid behind.

"You need to learn boundaries!"

"...No, you need to stop imposing boundaries that do not exist—and accept the boundaries that do. But now, you overstepped the boundaries and, when Job—whom you slandered—blessed the Lord of Spirits—whom you acknowledged over you—I gained the authority to vanquish you. And, I won't let you go after Terah and his sons like you did Job, just because you want to attack people until they squeal the way you want them to. The Heaven's courts neither allow filibusters nor your hostile takeover of Earth. Accusing Job was your last."

Michael's attacks rained down on Penemue's pen-like sword until it began to crack, but Michael kept slamming and Penemue kept holding blocking with his sword. The Accuser's face shone the light of terror. It wasn't clear which Penemue feared more: Michael's sword or Michael's words. For the sword of a Separate Archine is mightier than the greatest pen of the wicked.

Finally, Penemue's sword shattered. As Michael aimed his sword, christened in the Blood of the Son, Penemue fell back on his elbows and protested, "He never signed one contract. All of his business was through oral promises and he kept all of them! Such a man is dangerous. You never know when he's going to break his word! Had Job written down his promises it would have been to his credibility. But, now, you've turned him loose with zero accountability."

"Job's credibility is in quite good standing, especially since he blessed the Lord of Spirits after you gave him every reason not to. Choices are choices and they reflect the condition of the soul without explanation."

"But... accountability! Who will hold Terah accountable if not me!"

"The righteous have accountability. They know how real and near the Lord of Spirits is to them, much more than you know, apparently. You merely want Men to make their promises so complex, by use of pen and ink, that you can train experts to deceive them through lengthy words. Job saw through your nonsense. Humans were created like the Angels in regard to their promises—and that's how Job lived."

"But, what of the record?"

"Job kept records without needing contracts as you well know. Besides, Earth has millions upon millions of Angels with excellent hearing, yourself included. And, the Lord of Spirits has His own scribes who write down every action in the Heaven's books. So, the Heaven bears witness to a righteous man's testimony and the Heaven's Angels protect them against Angels who belong in Hell, like yourself."

Penemue was silent and tried to inch backward on his elbows.

"Since Job blessed the Lord of Spirits as you said he would not, your arguments are not credible. Since you don't learn, yet pursue more victims, you are dangerous and it is time to dispose of you."

Michael landed his coup de gras and Penemue fell limp.

The evil work of Penemue was first hated by Enoch. Enoch had been a scribe, who made his living with ink and paper and he only used his pen for noble purposes. Of all the evil brought by the Watchers, Penemue's destruction through the pen—to make Men give written testimony to their agreements—pained Enoch the most. Though Penemue sought to make the pen mightier than the tongue, Penemue's weapon was overcome by the faithful tongue of Job.

After that, the spirit of Penemue went out into the world and tried to take over many other estates, but, having been vanquished, that spirit could not gain permission from the courts of the Heaven to harass the estates which the Lord of Spirits had entrusted to righteous stewards. So, Penemue's spirit of hostility hinged on the broken promises of Men from that day forward.

Michael called the Force Archine who watched the land Job possessed in Uz and said, "Now, the enemy of promises has been vanquished. His most coveted enemy, Job, is safe. You can double his bounty without attracting jealous Angels. So, go, and give Job the double portion which has awaited him."

* * * * *

Ur, the city where Terah, the father of Abram, had served in righteousness, was one of the centers in what remained from greater Babylon. That kingdom was beat down by one enemy after another as Men fought over land and the Luminaries incited war to feast on the spirits of slain Men.

In the days of Terah, Ur was rising. Though it continued to rise and reached its peak after Terah left Ur, his departure foreshadowed Ur's downfall and marked the beginning of an age of one thousand years.

Early in that age, Gabriel held off the Fallen Prince of Egypt, Turael, who had changed his name to Kasdeja. As Egypt grew in unnatural prosperity from Human sacrifices and perversion, Gadreel watched from his hideout in Canaan; Michael watched Gadreel. As her son grew in strength at Ur, near the water emptying to the sea, Mystery joined forces with Kasdeja in Egypt and Gabriel soon had his hands full.
**Spirits**

Michael had come back with news of Canaan and held counsel with the Son. The land was filling with evil unchecked.

As he approached the Throne in the Heaven's court, he saw the Son busy with something at the foot of the Throne. Seraphim orbited in their vertical pattern overhead, praise continued, but the Heaven was at a quiet hour. The Son was bent over and seemed to be doing something on the floor.

"What is this?" Michael asked.

"Seeds of the two trees," the Son said.

"Seeds from where?" Michael asked.

The Son did not reply, but kept working on the ground. "Earth needs Hope and Truth," the Son said at last, continuing to work on the floor.

"So, you are already aware of the trouble."

"I AM," said the Son.

Michael looked closer. There were beads of heavenstone gathered in an elevated recess, like a small stone garden sitting on the floor before the foot of the Throne. "What is this?" Michael asked.

"This is crystal garden where the Two Olive Trees before the Throne will grow upward and outward and become strong."

"What are these Two Olive Trees for and why are they here?"

"These Two will shine the Hope of Truth and the Truth of Hope on Earth. Their Light and Water come from the Throne."

Michael looked and he saw an ever so small trickle of water coming from the Throne, falling into the bed of heavenstone beads.

"What of Canaan?" the Son asked Michael.

"Why do we not invade Canaan?" Michael asked. "Gadreel's grip grows strong, yet draws little attention among Men."

"We will," said the Son. "But, Men must make that invasion, lest the land become vacant and Gadreel reenter through another wave of Human sacrifices. Wait until the evil grows strong, then decapitate it lest we only prune it to grow back with haste."

"But, what of the evil already established there for Gadreel?"

"The invaders we send will need the proper sacrifices to cover their own evil and to purge evil from their own midst."

"Who can lead such an invasion?" Michael asked.

"The house of the babe, Abram son of Terah, who lives in the river center at Ur of the Chaldeans. Terah has not been shown the Heaven's Law, but practices righteousness and mercy in all of his ways. He uses standard weights and measures in all his transactions and he calls on my name night and day. You shall guard Terah and his house while the evil of Canaan rises to its decapitation point and as Terah's house multiplies to decapitate it."

"What of the genocide of babes in Ur from the spirits of Mystery? They know that Abram is special. Should we invade?"

"No. Gather your forces with Terah and take him out. Then prepare a place at Canaan. I have other plans for Ur. In the meanwhile, leave alone the evil that swells there. Let it draw the Fallen away from Abram as he matures."

The Son summoned the other Archine Princes in the court and looked back toward the bed of hevaenstone beads at the foot of the Throne. As they approached, he held out his hand with the two seeds.

"It is time for My Covenant of Hope with Man," the Son said. He drew two openings in the bed of beads, one in front of either foot of the One who Sits on the Throne. Dropping each seed in its place, he smoothed them over with the beads. The trickle of water from the Throne grew slightly stronger and the Archine Princes could see the seeds sprouting through the heavenstone beads. Then, the Son stood up. "Raphael and Saraqael," he said, still staring at the seeds. "We have work with the son of Terah."

* * * * *

Abram grew to become a man who called on the name of the Lord all the days of his life, for Abram believed the Lord of Spirits was supreme above all his circumstances. Abram's trust in the Lord of Spirits was counted to him as yet another righteous and fair deed. From the days of Seth, through Enoch, Noah, and Job, the righteous have always learned from Adam's mistake, trusted the Lord of Spirits, and thus gained insight into which deeds would do justly.

The Son stood with Raphael and Saraqael on the hills of Earth. Abram's tent could be seen in the distance. They had taken the form of Man, appearing with Human skin, without light in their bodies and without wings. Still, they were handsome—eternally youthful and infinitely wise.

Mimi approached, in her form of an adolescent young woman. "My Lord," she said to the Son. "I bring tragic news of the twin cities near Abram, where his nephew dwells."

"Tell your news so these Princes may know," the Son said.

"They have great enemies, stronger than they can overcome. Kings break covenant with kings and battle four against five. And, there is something much worse..."

"Continue, Mimi," the Son said. "But, include everything of the materials of Earth."

"They have no salt."

"But, is not the soil of Earth filled with salt?" asked Raphael, turning to the Son. Saraqael looked at Mimi, then back to the Son.

"It should be," she continued. "But, it is not. They give many jealous tears and expel much salt from their bodies. They beautify themselves for vanity, yet they do not become strong as a people. They will soon be overrun by enemy kings."

"Tragedy is everywhere on Earth. But, what are these cities to the Heaven?" Raphael asked. "Man shall slay Man. The Son himself broke the seal. Redemption shall come in due time. For now, these people are foolish, inviting their own destruction. Those with foresight will depart and history will teach those wise enough to listen. This is a tragedy of Man which will soon solve itself and does not call for further intervention from the Heaven."

"Salt is a concern of the Heaven," Saraqel said. Raphael turned to him, eager to hear. "Salt gives strength to Man—not only for his health, not only to be a strong people, but also giving strength against the filthy spirits from the Nephilim and strength to withstand the cunning of the Fallen Archine."

"Yes," Mimi continued. "Nephilim spirits fill the cities. At least ten grow on every man, woman, and child, sometimes a thousand. Everyone is jealous of his neighbor, so the filthy spirits grow in size every day. Some are a hundred times the perimeter of the cities themselves, sitting as giant spirits coiled around the walls. The land of Canaan has this stronghold lurking without attention. But, it will bring destruction more subtle and more lasting than the living Nephilim brought before the Flood, should Gadreel ever send them forth."

"We must salt the cities," Raphael said.

"I concur," Saraqael added.

The Son looked up toward Mimi. "Keep watching those tears and keep writing the records."

"What of justice?" Raphael asked.

"Abram will bring justice to the cities one last time. I will lead him. I AM his shield. You and Saraqael, go to Michael and summon salt from the expanse above Earth. Once the salt is ready to fall, hold it there and return to the oaks where I shall meet you."

So, the Son went to Abram, son of Terah, to bring justice to the cities one last time. War ensued and Abram had victory, but those with foresight saw the trouble of a vain and weak people, so they abandoned the twin cities. Then, the Son made covenant with Abram and changed his name to Abraham, his wife's name from Sarai to Sarah, to embed the name of the Lord of Spirits into the house of Abraham and Sarah in their own tongue.

The Son promised Abraham and Sarah their own child. Then, Raphael and Saraqael returned and waited for the Son by the oaks of Mamre.

"All is ready in the expanse," Saraqael reported.

"Michael has Gadreel occupied," Raphael said. "He won't need any attention from us."

"We must tell our intentions to Abraham. He is righteous and fair and should understand our intervention among Men."

"But, Abram does not know the deep materials of Earth," Saraqael said, "nor the place where salt waits to befall the cities."

"How can we explain to him the wonders and secrets of the Heaven?" Raphael asked. "The minds of Man must learn on their own, at their own pace of curiosity. We cannot disclose to Abraham and Sarah all of the methods and motives of the Heaven."

"We do not need to," the Son said. "Abraham's righteous justice goes beyond protection of his kin and justice for the widows and fatherless of the twin cities. Abraham lives and walks by trust in the Heaven above him. His time in war and deliverance of the cities has given him all the evidence he needs to know what is good. We must only tell him our intention for him to see that we do not work in shadows and that our work is evidently just."

So, the three appeared to Abraham and Sarah, who greeted them as a man greets his friends. Though the Son does not need sustenance of Man, he welcomed Abraham's hospitality of food because it was the best token of friendship Abraham had in the moment.

Raphael and Saraqael went to the cities to make their final inquiry before the witness of Lot, Abraham's kin. The Son sat and discussed with Abraham the justice of destroying wicked cities, as two kings consider justice for their peoples. All the while, Mimi stood invisible, recording notes of everything that was said and collecting in heavenstone bottles every tear that was given.

...

Down in the cities, Raphael and Saraqael accompanied Lot in his home. "You must leave now," Raphael said. "For lustful Men hunger for foreign flesh in their desire for comradery, but these seek that comradery in the same ways that made them so weak that they could not save you from their enemies. Your uncle rescued you once, but he cannot rescue you from what we will bring."

"But, how can you be so sure this is necessary?" Lot asked as the mob pounded at his door.

"Listen to us, Lot. Try to understand," Raphael said calmly. "Evil cannot escape on its own feet, but only through your gaze. Do not covet—do not even turn an eye to look back longing for the vanity of these cities."

"But, there are good men among them. I know them. Many are my friends. You can reason with them."

"That is what they tell themselves," Saraqael said, the mob continuing to beat on the door and even the outer wall. "But, their lust invites greater evil which thou hast not yet seen until this day. Look at what their lust leads them to do. Is this the act of your friends?"

The door began to crack. Mob chants came from outside. Torches lit up the street like an afternoon. Lot stood with his mouth half open as he turned to look toward the door.

"They want us," Saraqael said. "You, go with your household. We will keep them here until you are safe."

"But..."

Raphael raised his voice, "There is no time! Evil must stop here. If anyone leaving with you looks back, we will be forced to salt him for the sake of all Humankind."

"Can I gather my things..."

Suddenly, Saraqael's and Raphael's bodies filled with new light. Lot's eyes grew wide and his heart filled with hope and strength as he began to accept the truth of what was happening in his city and even his own home. But, this was no ordinary _hope_.

"Are you doing that?" Raphael asked.

"No," Saraqael replied. "I wanted to keep my glow hidden."

"So did I. But, how can..."

"It's the trees!" Saraqael declared. "At last! The Two Trees are shining their light toward Earth."

...

And, it was so. Phanuel and Remiel stood in the great court of the Heaven, before the Throne, and gazed at the Two Olive Trees. Though they were still saplings, they shone with new light. Tsuyoshi was spinning. The Two Trees gave two beams of light, one each, straight out from the Throne and in through the portal toward Earth.

...

From a distance, Abraham saw a beam of light falling down into the heart of the twin cities. "That's the house of Lot, my nephew!" he said to the Son. "The destruction has already come so soon."

"This is not the destruction," the Son said. "Not yet. You see the light of Hope before judgment falls, just as we consider the Truth here." As the Son spoke, he also began to glow. Abraham could not see the second beam from above, but another light came down onto his abode and shone all around.

...

The mob finally broke through the door in Lot's house, but froze for a brief moment, stunned by the sight of two glowing Angels. "What does it all mean?" Lot asked.

"There's no time," Raphael said to Lot. "GO!"

Lot wouldn't go. Raphael looked up toward the source of the light streaming down from the sky, catching Phanuel's eye. Phanuel nodded, then looked at Remiel, who raised four fingers as if to give a signal. Not a moment passed before two other Archine sped past Phanuel and Remiel like darts of light, through the portal, and down along the beam of light, disappearing through the roof of Lot's house.

The two new arrivals grabbed Lot, his wife, and two daughters, each under one arm. Lot kicked and squirmed, trying to break free. But, it was like wrestling a stone statue.

Saraqael, his body glowing brighter than if under a tropical sun at high noon, drew his sword and aimed it toward the back wall of Lot's house. His heavenstone blade lit up and a beam of light shot out, searing a laser-like hole in the wall. "That way. Go, Lot. Save thyself and the last righteous people of this city."

As the two carried Lot out through the back of his house with his wife and two daughters, the mob of young and old men poured into the front room as Saraqael and Raphael stood there, glowing all by themselves. But, the mortal men were not afraid. They hungered for the Angels all the more.

...

Up on the hill outside the cities, the two Angels set down Lot's family. One of them smiled gravely, yet comfortingly. "Go do the mountain," he told Lot.

"I wanted a city," Lot contended. Won't that distant village by the road do?"

"Whatever, Lot. Just make sure to save thyself and family. This involves more than what you or even we want." The Angels looked up, then lifted off just as fast as they had arrived.

...

As the mob encircled Saraqael and Raphael, Tabaet, the red, serpent-like spirit of Mystery's son, emerged from the crowd. "What have you come for? Your own end?" he taunted.

"The Heaven does not discuss plans with its enemies," Saraqael said.

"Ooo, more secrets," Tabaet said seductively. "My mother must not have known. I guess she is your enemy now?"

"No. They are not secrets. Against our advice, your mother was absent when the truths were told."

"You think you know much. Now, you are surrounded by me and my Nephilim spirits, just the two of you. Do you think you can match us?"

"The question is not about our strength, but where our strength comes from," Raphael said.

Saraqael sheathed his sword.

"What!? No sword? Are you mocking me?"

"No, he is taking vengeance over you and your spirits," came a voice from above.

Tabaet looked up. Phanuel descended above the house of Lot, his wings outstretched, his body glowing in glory. "You can unveil now, brothers." Though Raphael and Saraqael had been shining with the light of the Trees, it was not their normal glory that shone. At that moment, their bodies emanated with the glory they bear when in the Heaven, their wings stretching as a bird ruffling its feathers.

"What is this?" Tabaet asked. "You do know that I can kill Lot and his children before they escape."

"It's too late," Phanuel said. "I just saw them out beyond the wall."

"But, there are children in the city I can kill," Tabaet said, "unwanted babes whose parents would not miss them."

"Your mother tried that at Ur," Phanuel said. "We anticipated your strategy. You don't change do you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tabaet said defiantly.

Phanuel was unmoved. "Who do you think allowed you and your mother to learn about the prophecy of Terah's son? Did you think we needed to give that prophecy in order to keep him safe?"

"It's all about your so-called justice," Tabaet hissed, sounding snakelike before the Archine for the first time. "You need to tell stories so you can 'teach the righteous your ways'. But, you never thought I would eavesdrop and learn your little secrets. You can't save all of them!"

"We can this time," Saraqael said.

"All the righteous have fled," Raphael added. "Guided by their foresight, those who bear children fled to the mountains. The city succumbed to you and now there are no children for you to kill."

As they spoke, young and old men from the mob were throwing themselves at Raphael and Saraqael, but the Angels were unmoved. The men even burned their bodies as they touched them, but the mob would not stop.

Tabaet looked around. Nephilim spirits, great and small, slithered all around, appearing like bearded red snakes, some the size of a large worm, others wider than a street and miles long. His collective was present and powerful, but he could not provoke any of these three Archine to play his game.

"Escape!" he finally said to the serpentine spirits.

"Michael!" Phanuel shouted far away toward the north. "NOW!"

Tabaet looked up and saw great rocks of burning salt entering Earth's atmosphere above the cities. They began to land outside the walls, forming a perimeter... The Humans on which the spirits rode could not leave...

"What is this?" he screamed, looking around in panic. "Quick! Go to his wife!" he shouted at one of the largest spirits. "Go to his wife!"

...

Up on the hill outside the cities, Lot debated with his wife, both of them leaving from the city on foot. "We can't look back," he said again.

"But, we lived there. Your own uncle brought us back there. We lost everything in the cities where we labored so many years. How can I go forward not remembering from where we came?"

"You heard them. They have power. You saw! Use reason!"

"Use reason to abandon our home without shedding so much as a tear? Where is your compassion?"

"You accuse me of a callous heart? We had no choice!"

"Yes, I accuse you of a callous heart. We had no choice but to leave. But, I still have a choice to look back on the home I poured my heart and tears into. It was right down there in the..."

Nothing.

Her voice fell silent. Lot thought to look back to see her. But, he wouldn't. He just kept walking, tears filling his eyes. "Mommy turned to salt," one of the children said from behind.

"She looked back," Lot said. "Don't be like mommy. Keep going."

...

Lot's house had completely burned to the ground. Saraqael stood with the others among the smoldering ash heap, his sword out, aimed in Lot's direction.

"Good call," Raphael said. Saraqael resheathed his sword once again.

"NO!" Tabaet shrieked, clasping his head. He screamed and wailed, falling to the ground in convulsions of disbelief.

The great spirit-serpent that had been slithering through the air toward Lot's escaping party fell to the ground, writhing like a decapitated snake.

Burning salt continued to fall from the sky. Michael stood far to the north, several hundred miles. Next to him was Gadreel, who looked south, his eyes as helpless as when he stared at a Cherub. "He always had a flair for the dramatic," Phanuel said, winking at Michael as he lifted upward toward the portal above. Tsuyoshi was seen spinning on the other side. The Heaven's floor stood perpendicular to Earth as the beams of light from the Two Trees continued downward.

...

"I understand," Abraham said outside among the oaks. The cities smoldered in the distance as a single beam of light coming down from the sky seemed to light the way for a small group of people exiting the valley. "Now, I understand."

* * * * *

"My Lord," Raphael said, approaching the Son. "Mimi brings word of Abraham and his son."

"The boy is well," the Son said.

"Yes," continued Raphael. "And, the light from the Two Olive Trees before the Throne shines down on them each. But, the problem is not with young Isaac."

"It is in spirit, again?" the Son asked, prompting Raphael to continue.

"Yes." Raphael looked down. The same problem we encountered at the twin cities—it's back."

"And, it's on Abraham."

"Yes. But, why? Why has a spirit of covetousness returned, only to a righteous man?"

"In his age, the father yearns for his son with Human jealousy."

"But, Isaac was promised. What is there to be jealous of? Why do the filthy spirits of the Nephilim gather to Abraham as he gazes upon his son?"

"A father loves his son. But, a sinful father loves his son sinfully and must sacrifice his own love, lest it turn to lust that feeds filthy spirits."

"What can we do to take away this lust? I have tried everything. But, Abraham is head of his house. The world has so few Men. There is no power to pry Isaac from his father long enough to break his over-zealous love for his son."

"Earth is too young for that," the Son said. "In the future, we can bring friends and strife to pry father from son for short seasons at a time. But, now, Abraham has too many devices with which he can grasp for power to keep Isaac close to him."

"Shall we slay Abraham early?"

"No. Abraham lives by faith and trust. When I speak, he listens. When I tell him, he obeys."

"So, what will you instruct him? We cannot teach him the materials of the Heaven. And, a Human father so young in years as Abraham could not understand that his own love is as poison. What else is there to do?"

"I will tell him to sacrifice his own son."

"You will not let him murder Isaac!?"

"No. He will go up to the mountain. There, you will stop him. There will be Abraham's obedience in righteousness. And, thus I will make purification of the land for another season."

"How will you achieve this in righteousness if you stop Abraham before he can obey?"

"I will go with you." The Son looked straight forward, his gaze fixed on Abraham and Isaac in the distance. "I myself will hide among the bushes."
**Salvation**

"You may go no further."

"And just who are you to deny me passage?" Mystery looked at Remiel with a venomous grin.

"The question is, 'Who are you to expect passage?'"

Mystery said nothing.

"For too long you have stalked his house, this land, and this young man in particular."

"You think I have no power to circumvent you?" Mystery shouted up at Kasdeja who stood in a face-off with Gabriel above Memphis. "What brings you to Egypt anyway?"

Kasdeja and Gabriel seemed to not even hear her, though Angels are aware. Remiel answered her, "You ask questions out of place. Why would _you_ try to bring Joseph to Egypt?"

"His brothers all hate him."

"And, who stirred their hearts so?"

"You can't prove anything."

"Neither can you prove any right to enter Egypt. And, you haven't answered my question."

Mystery knew that she was no match for Remiel on her own. Her powers depended on seduction of kings and the sin of their cities. If Remiel decided to stop her at the shores of Egypt, she could go no further. But, the spirit of her son, Tabaet, had already begun feasting in Memphis.

"What makes Joseph so special that you follow him?" Mystery squinted with accusation at Remiel.

"Again," Remiel replied, "that should be my question to you."

With the inquisition of Penemue at Uz with Job, Mystery knew that accusing a righteous man to mount a direct assault could land her the same fate. She had to be more cunning.

"He was always loved by his mother. Surely you know how a mother cares for her son."

"Is that why you killed his mother?"

"Nothing do I hate more than a man who does not listen to his wife or a son to his mother!"

"I think you have listening confused with being controlled."

"Should a son not listen and obey?"

"To a point. But, you passed that point. Killing his mother wasn't enough. You couldn't kill Joseph, so you faked his death. Now you follow him to Egypt as if you have brought him here yourself."

"Did I not? Did not I provoke his own brothers to sell him into slavery? Has his own house, your precious little Israel, not rejected their own? If he is so important, where is Michael to defend him? Why does your Prince remain in Canaan?"

"Again, I should ask you the same question. Why does your Prince Gadreel remain in Canaan?"

Mystery was furious. She had lost all control. If she could not go to Egypt herself... Just then, she looked to Memphis and saw the spirit of her son, Tabaet, in Potifar's house. That would be perfect. She could pass Joseph off to Tabaet...

"Ahh, your son," Remiel said. "Would you like to go to him?"

Mystery's glance at her son had not gotten past Remiel. What was his purpose in asking? It didn't matter. This was her chance to enter Egypt. "Oh, you are too gracious," Mystery said.

"Do promise to behave yourself. One little temper tantrum and you will be expelled." Raphael turned away, seemingly disinterested.

So, Mystery followed Joseph and Tabaet opened channels with Potifar for him to bring Joseph into his service. But, it wasn't long before Mystery had found another host to begin expanding her controls. Potifar had a wife who seemed to think she was entitled to everything he owned, including Joseph.

"There you are again." Mystery turned around to see Remiel.

"You!?" I thought you had left.

"And, I thought you had agreed to behave yourself."

"This is my house! I control it!" Mystery hissed.

"What gives you the right?"

"Potifar is a good husband who listens to his wife."

"He does much more than listen. You seem to have him on a leash."

"All I do for Joseph... The least he could do is..."

"Practice more immorality so you can try to rebuild what your son's spirit lost at the twin cities we razed at Canaan?"

"You think razing a city can keep us away? If I can't have Joseph, then I'll throw him in prison."

"And, for that, I shall expel you."

Tabaet looked up at his mother, then at Remiel. He grabbed Joseph with a fistful of guards.

"I'll do it, just to protect my mother," the Tabaet hissed up at Remiel.

"That won't protect either of you." Remiel was unmoved. He stood, wings back, both hands at his sides. His sword never left its sheath.

"You and your precious Joseph!" Tabaet said. "I have no more need of him."

"And, I have no more need of you," he said. "I warned you, one temper tantrum and you would be expelled." No sooner had the guards put Joseph in prison than Remiel grabbed Mystery and Tabaet by their tails and flung them out of Egypt and into the sea.

After landing in the sea, Mystery made her way to Ur. "There is no future for you there," Remiel called out to Mystery. "Still, do what you will."

"It is a city by the water," she called back. "What use could it not be?"

"Nothing lasts in Earth," Remiel called back. "Have you not figured that out?"

Mystery gave no answer. She was on her way.

Remiel turned to Tabaet. "Did it occur to you that putting Joseph in prison might have been part of my plan all along? He is safe there, well guarded under Gabriel's authority."

Tabaet looked at Joseph, his eyes wide, his face scowling. "Maybe I'll just go kill the king, then."

"Go and try. But, you should know that threats don't work against Archine of the Heaven. We are Separate and our methods are Higher. It won't work."

* * * * *

Half a millennium had passed since the age began, another half remained. Joseph's father, Jacob, was the son of Isaac, who was the son of Abraham. Jacob never learned easily, but he did learn. Though he had pain, no Man ever overpowered him.

Jacob was patient with his fellow Man, but contended with the Lord of Spirits for truth and blessing. After the Son wrestled with him throughout one night, Jacob, and by proxy the descendents of his household, were renamed Israel, which means _wrestles with God_. This new name marked Jacob's blessing.

In Egypt, and under Kasdeja's jealous standoff with Gabriel, the house that wrestled with the Son would multiply in number—and the Fallen could do nothing to harm that house except persecute it; Israel endured.

...

"Israel grows in the greater region, yet Mystery rebuilds her fortress at Ur." Michael held counsel with the Son in front of the Throne. "What is the best way to shift the balance to the next phase?"

"Drought."

"Starve out the evil."

"Salt the land first."

"In what manner?"

"Send great rains. Wash some of the salt from the ruin of the twin cities. Send it through the land. Once enough salt is dispersed, deplete the land of water."

"What of Mystery?"

"When you dry the land, begin to shift the rivers. Keep her occupied and keep her moving."

"Should I keep the famine from Memphis when I bring Israel and his house?"

"No, bring the famine also to Egypt. Stretch the famine west of Egypt and east of Ur. Keep the land salted and give her spirits no place to gather."

So, Michael sent rains on the region. The region of the twin cities flooded into the nearby sea. When the rains stopped and the drought came, the rivers leading out of the sea by the twin cities dried up and the sea became Dead with salt. Mystery could return to it no more. Many other rivers dried up or nearly so, locking her away from the inner land.

When the rains returned, the rivers resumed with new courses and the lands were changed. She was no longer able to maintain her old strongholds and they were left to fend for themselves. Of course, this didn't stop Gadreel from creating mischief, but he kept to himself at his stronghold in the north at Tyre.

In that time, Israel migrated to Egypt and had a hundred years of peace. When Joseph died, Tabaet took his opportunity. He re-instituted Human sacrifices in Egypt and enslaved Israel. But, that was all he could do. Kasdeja brought no aid to Tabaet. He was occupied.

Four generations of Man, Gabriel and Kasdeja stood still in a face-off. Gabriel looked directly at Kasdeja as Kasdeja glared back. They appeared as living statues, towering above Memphis over four centuries. The end of that age drew nigh.

No sooner had the prophecy come of Israel's deliverer than Mystery returned by way of the Nile. "Kill all the boys," she said. "Kill them all!" Tabaet pushed Pharaoh over the edge and another genocide of babes began.

Mystery contended with Remiel over Moses in the same way she had with Joseph until Moses fled to the desert, far beyond where waters reached. There, Remiel stood guard.

* * * * *

"Remiel."

Remiel turned. "My Lord, when did you arrive?"

"Just now," the Son said to Remiel. "It is time." The two of them hovered in the desert sky above an oasis.

"Moses is reared and ready. But, what should we do about Israel enslaved? Many infrastructures have been laid in their places. Earth's population has multiplied many times over. Israel is large and larger still are the obstacles in her path. Relocating Israel is no easy task as it was with Joseph."

"I WILL lead this one myself."

"What are your plans for me?"

"Summon Raphael. Have him bring Michael to the mount we prepared, just south of Canaan. Then, have Raphael meet me in the skies over Memphis. You are to watch over young Joshua and Caleb. Make sure they face enough challenges to prepare them for my showdown with Gadreel in Canaan."

The Son then descended to a small mount in the desert. A light could be seen atop the mount as Remiel met Raphael in the sky. Raphael went to Canaan to summon Michael as Remiel made his way to Goshen.

When the Son arrived in Memphis with Moses, Gabriel knew it was time. He unsheathed his sword and lunged at Kasdeja. Neither Prince said a word. Their swords clashed again and again as the Angelic giants dueled above Egypt.

Raphael rained down storm after storm on the land. The Fallen Archine lost one battle after another as an onslaught of Separate Powers descended through a portal from the Heaven. Light from the Two Trees beamed down onto Joshua and Caleb as they spoke messages of Hope and Truth to the people around them.

The conflict in Egypt soon became too great for Mystery to ignore. She saw that Tabaet was about to lose his stronghold; she came up out of the Nile to save her son. "Kill them again!" she said. "Kill the children again!"

But, no sooner had she given the order than Raphael began to pass over Egypt by night. Tabaet didn't have the time he needed.

Kasdeja and Mystery were furious, yet powerless. The Son was nowhere to be seen. Israel marched two million strong, accompanied by a smoldering cloud. Egypt's empire was ending and the stronghold of Kasdeja along with it. Then, Israel disappeared from their sight!

Gabriel and Kasdeja continued to clash swords. Suddenly Mystery saw Israel—they were marching straight through the sea!

"After them!" she shouted to Kasdeja. The Fallen Prince wasted no time. Kasdeja and his Fallen Powers sped after Israel. Mystery went ahead of them with her Nephilim spirits riding the drivers of Pharaoh's chariots, right into a strange opening in the sea. Then, without warning, the sea closed and their hosts drowned.

Without a Human host to carry them, Mystery's Nephilim spirits had no place to go. Kasdeja had no reinforcements. Gabriel stepped back and, with both hands on his hilt, he hacked Kasdeja in two.

...

From Tyre, Gadreel looked southward Mystery flopped in and out of the water in the sea. Kasdeja's blood misted into the sky as red smoke. Egypt was finished. Now, the Son marched an army toward his lands.

Then, he looked up.

The lesser star approached. It would draw near within a few years. Now was his chance to shift power and keep his position. "There's no time," he said to one of the lesser Archine in his fortress at Canaan. "We must evacuate."

"Evacuate Canaan?"

"Yes. I'll put fear into some of their reconnaissance spies. Lend me ten of your best. I'll go while you gather the other Powers and Principalities. I'm sending all of you to the lesser star."

"You will stay behind?"

"Yes. If I don't survive, you can return and rebuild what we began here."

"But, who will help you?"

"I will bring others from distant lands. They will help me keep Canaan occupied. But, you know the secrets from our beginning. The Enemy must not capture or defeat you. You are too valuable."

"I'll only ask once: You'll be alone. Are you certain?"

"No, I will not be alone for long." Gadreel gazed again toward where he had seen Mystery in the sea. "There are many others who can help. But, you must go. Otherwise all of our work will be lost, as if it was for nothing. Gather your forces and prepare to leave. When the lesser star returns, we will be waiting for you."

Gadreel resumed his Archine form and went with ten others of the Fallen to the far borders of Canaan.

...

Once the lesser star had passed Earth the second time, Gadreel looked up at the sky. His fellow Archine—all of them lesser than he, yet quite powerful—looked down toward him. They faded in the distance. It would be millennia before they would return. Gadreel lied about the lesser star and its timing and planted fake evidence among worshipers to create confusion and conceal his schemes. No other Archine remained on Earth who knew what he had developed in Canaan—no others except for the ten best who had stayed behind with him...

As twelve spies entered the land, Gadreel approached with his ten lesser Archine. Two of the spies seemed to have faint beams of light descending on them from somewhere high above, but the distance was too great for Gadreel to discern where the lights came from. It didn't matter. Ten spies remained whom he could harness. That was all he needed.

"Go," he told them. "Each of you to one host among these spies in our land. Possess him. Seduce him with the women. Put fear into him. Do whatever you must to control him. Do not let that army enter this land—your land. If that army enters, your own stronghold will be supplanted and you will become without a home once again. Don't let that happen. Go!"

Off the ten went out of Canaan, back with their ten hosts toward the mighty army. They waited and talked and spoke their words to the army. Nephilim spirits went out into the people and they were filled with fear. Suddenly, light flashed from the Great Tent in the army's midst.

The light hovered at the center of the Tent. Gadreel looked inside the Tent and saw Tsuyoshi spinning. Out came ten Cherubim, each of them with sword held high. They charged at the ten Fallen Archine Gadreel had sent upon the spies and hacked them into bits.

Filled with fear from no guidance, the Nephilim spirits occupying several thousand people in the army ran with their hosts into Canaan like a mob of madmen jumping from flames into a pool of water. Gadreel took his Dragon form and swarmed them with his own armies in Canaan and devoured them all.

Feasting on the deceased Human spirits, Gadreel looked out across the Jordan. He was well-fed. The ten Fallen Archine were gone. None of his Fallen Archine Brethren remained on Earth who knew of his devices. Only Mystery could equal him, but she was occupied and he could deal with her later. For now, he was now the strongest Fallen Archine on Earth and those who knew the secrets to his power would not return for more than three thousand years.

* * * * *

Forty years passed. The generation that left Egypt only knew Egyptian bondage. They could neither sow nor reap. They only obeyed what they were instructed to do and ate what was provided for them. It would take one generation raised in freedom to cultivate the tenacity to invade, sow, and prosper.

They had wandered in the desert where the Lord of Spirits cared for them. Though they were slaves in their hearts, they were no longer oppressed. They trained their children to find safety in knowing the power of the Lord of Spirits and to learn from their own folly in fearing and trusting Man.

After forty years, most of the slave generation had died. Their children, reared in liberty, now led the nation. Joshua and Caleb were in that generation. Light from the Two Trees shined down on them.

As Joshua led Israel down to the river Jordan and prepared to enter the land of Canaan, Gadreel looked up and saw the Heaven's army preparing to invade his fortress. There, on Mount Nebo, lay the dead body of his great enemy, Moses, through whom the Lord of Spirits had defeated his armies in Egypt.

Though he hated Moses, Gadreel pondered to himself, "Perhaps the body of Moses contains the secret. I could not perform such miracles, yet, through this Human body, Egypt saw terrible wonders, just as the Heaven watches the constellations shift at the word of Michael. Surely Moses could have overthrown the Lord of Spirits if he had wanted."

Gadreel sought to seize Moses's body and search it out for some secret way to advance his plan, to conquer Earth and then the Heaven. Of course, this was futile since it was the Maker alone who gave breath and took breath from Moses's former body. The miracles Moses performed were merely from his obedience to the command of the Lord of Spirits. Nonetheless, Gadreel slithered through his stronghold until he came atop Mount Nebo in his vain quest to unlock the Forbidden Star. The sky was dark and rain poured while lightning fell and thunder clapped.

When he reached Moses's dead body, the Dragon met Michael.

"What do you want?" hissed Gadreel.

"I might ask you the same thing. Your fortress is being invaded, yet you came here."

"How do you know about my fortress? Who told you!?" the Dragon hissed. "You're merely trying to get me to give up information!"

"Oh, Gadreel. Accusation is your tactic. I don't accuse you and your accusation won't help you learn anything from me. No one told me about your fortress—no one needed to. You and your worshipers are the only ones who think you operate in secret. It's because you've blinded yourselves to the truth that you hate the light so. Your evil is self-revealing and the righteous see right through you, even without explanation. We've been mounting this invasion for a thousand years. And, it doesn't matter where you go—there never was a place for you to hide. But, you wouldn't need to hide if you stopped your mischief. So, again, I ask, why do you come here to Mount Nebo?"

"I claim this body of Moses."

"No, you don't."

"Why not?"

"Why in the first place? You hated this man. Do you think the Heaven will let you bear the notoriety of possessing his body, as if you ever respected him or as if you were ever capable of vanquishing him?"

"But, I did vanquish him. He tapped at the rock instead of speaking. That's why he's here, dead."

As Gadreel spoke these words, Phanuel descended upon the mountain. "Am I needed?" the defender asked.

Gadreel hissed with fury, "You just want to keep his body for yourselves! Maybe it was you who told them they were naked." (Gadreel still didn't know why or how Adam and Eve learned they were naked merely from eating fruit. Even after three millennia, this wore on his mind and he suspected everyone for it.)

"Told who they were naked?" Phanuel comically retorted. "You're the one not wearing any clothes, yet you claim to be emperor of Earth."

"If you don't let me know the secrets of Life," Gadreel shrieked. "I'll find out some other way. The Lord of Spirits must be overthrown. You can't stop me!"

"Your fortress is being overrun," Phanuel said calmly. "Yet you've come here, to search for knowledge of Life among the dead. Gadreel, it seems that you have your priorities reversed. Moses's body has no more power than any other. The Son himself was the source of power—and the Son cannot be stolen."

Just then, a Cherub arrived with his flaming sword unsheathed, evidently christened in the Blood of the Son. He spoke few words, as Cherubim often do, if they speak at all. "I shall stand."

"Apparently I'm not needed after all," Phanuel said as he lifted off.

"You're just playing tactics! You lured me here as a distraction." Gadreel looked down and saw Israel marching against his fortress, at the front, two beams of light emanating from above.

Michael drew his sword, turned to Canaan, and spread his wings. Before lifting off, still looking forward as the Dragon crouched behind him, he softly said, "I'll let the Lord rebuke you."

Then, Michael was gone in a flash, descending on Canaan, leaving a trail of cloud behind him as Joshua's army approached Jericho. The sun shined behind breaking clouds in the distant silver sky.

Gadreel glanced up at the Cherub, then scrambled down the mountain, north, toward Tyre.
**Slipped**

"The land is filled with evil again," Michael said. Raphael and Saraqael stood with him in the inner court of the Heaven, before the Throne. The Lord of Spirits towered overhead. The Son tended to the Two Trees, listening to the conversation of the Archine Princes.

"Gabriel battles Princes to the east," Raphael said. "Remiel has his hands full with the prophet. Apart from his help, we three must deal with this on our own."

"How long has the drought been?" Saraqael asked.

"It has been 1,096 days," Michael said.

"The land is parched and salt dominates everything," Saraqael said. "At least we have that to our advantage."

"Yes, the Nephilim spirits oppress whatever Human hosts invite them, but they won't be going anywhere." Raphael looked at the Son and asked. "My Lord, can you tell us how much longer the prophet will pray?"

"I have already instructed him to stop." The Son didn't look up from his work, but commented as a friend speaks from another room, with comfort and confidence.

"Then, it shouldn't be long. But, we must devise a way to remove evil's vice." Raphael looked at Michael.

"We don't have enough righteous prayers to work with," Michael said to them both. "Our resources are limited."

"There must be something we can do in the meanwhile," Saraqael said.

Michael looked at him. "Until we can get a fair and just prayer, properly witnessed, we just don't have the resources to purge the land. I could always turn the place to a heap of lava or overrun it with a great tsunami, but short of catastrophe, Gadreel owns the land."

As they spoke, Tsuyoshi began spinning behind them and the portal opened.

"Look, there it is," Saraqael said. "The people are gathered on the mount, performing another sacrifice to one of Gadreel's puppet gods. In fact, this one is closely tied to Mystery herself."

"The prophet is among them," Michael said. "This isn't the usual song and dance before a false god." Michael turned to the Son. "Do you have something to share with us, my Lord?"

"Go now and stand above the skies. Pay attention and watch for your opportunity—watch for the sacrifice baptized three times. That offering will be just and powerful enough for your purpose. Michael, go to the sea and prepare to end the drought."

The three Princes walked through the portal. Again the floor of the Heaven was perpendicular to Earth, so when they walked through they were facing straight down at the mount below. Michael immediately spread his wings and slowly floated in the skies out to sea.

The mount was covered with people; most of the people were covered with Nephilim serpents, usually three per Human or more. Of course, there were always exceptions.

The two Archine Angels watched from the sky above. Several hours passed as a band of men danced around, cutting themselves. One larger crowd of about a thousand men chanted with them. That crowd hosted well more than half of all Nephilim serpents on the mount. The scene was almost as hideous as the Twin Cities before Lot escaped.

As the sun began to set, the Angels saw their chance. "Look at that," Raphael said.

"Yes," Saraqael answered. "The prophet has baptized the sacrifice three times. The land has not seen a sacrifice like this ever, nor one so just since the first days of the Temple."

"Listen!" Raphael said. "He is praying!"

"Yes! And, the people are listening. They are watching and approving."

"That's our opportunity! Almost nine hundred of the false prophets are gathered into one place."

"And, the quality of the sacrifice..."

Once they realized what had transpired atop Mount Carmel, Raphael shouted to the Angel next to him, "Saraqael, it's enough for us to work with! You can end this right, right now! GO!"

Saraqael didn't hesitate. He dove down to the mount so fast that his fire trail could be seen by the Human crowd gathered there. In one fell swoop, he opened his censor and scooped up the sacrifice and the entire altar with it.

As the crowd stood in awe, staring at the sky where they saw the strange light, Saraqael whipped his filled censor around his head and threw it into the center of the Nephilim mob. It landed with an explosion and sent the Nephilim spirits sailing and many Fallen Angels with them. Thrown by the blast, they tumbled through the skies for hundreds of miles, far out of the land of Canaan.

...

"YOU!" From Jezreel, Mystery screamed. "You're all alone! You and your petty God who can't save you!"

Gadreel looked south from his fortress at Tyre, but he did nothing. He was furious in his own, quiet way. He did not express outrage at the prophet nor at Raphael or Saraqael. Gadreel just sat in Tyre and did nothing.

Mystery's scream had been heard by all Angels, both Separate and Fallen. Even the prophet felt her scream in his own spirit. Fear gripped him and he fled south to the mount where Michael had met with the Son just before Moses exited Egypt. Remiel went with him.

Filled with power from the Lord of Spirits, even in his fear the prophet was strong. That was one reason Mystery hated him so. But, most of her fury came from having lost so many Nephilim. Gripped with fear and strengthened by the Lord of Spirits, he outran chariots and beasts, running for days. At last he left the borders of Gadreel's stronghold at Canaan and began to feel better. Still, he feared the screams he felt in his spirit from Mystery's rage.

Remiel knew that the prophet was no match for Mystery in his own strength. As much as he had grown, the prophet's will had reached its exhaustion point. Twice the prophet fell asleep and twice Remiel gave him food.

The Son waited for him at the mount, far away in the southern desert. When the prophet finally reached the cave overlooking the plane where Israel had waited for Moses, the Son appeared.

"Elijah, what are you doing here?"

"I am alone! I'm all that is left. Now, they are coming for me. Who can serve you after?"

"Nay. Ye are not alone. Ye are not alone, Elijah. Ye are not alone."

The prophet looked out at the Son from in the cave.

"Come, Elijah. Come and see." The Son walked outside to the planes. As he did, Mystery came barreling up over the Arabian hills. Wind filled the cascade. It blew strong, sweeping rocks and breaking them against the mountainside before the Son.

"You took them from me!" she hissed.

"He can't hear you anymore," the Son said.

"You think he could help you anyway? You and your eccentric prophet! No one can come and save you, not even your idiosyncratic Archine. Look at how many spirits I still have in the land! You're alone."

At that moment, the Son was no taller than the prophet. Mystery towered over all the hills like a giant, red serpent. When the Son spoke, the prophet could not see him. But, to Mystery, the Son stood in great and splendid glory. Though she did not show it, she was more afraid of the Son than the prophet was of her.

"Jezebel is MINE! Ahab is under MY control! I own this kingdom." The Fallen Seraph hissed downward at the Son with the voice of a thousand serpents.

"On what basis?" the Son calmly asked.

Mystery hissed back, slithering to look down from another hill, this time shrieking. "I controlled the first king you chose. That sets a precedent."

"Saul was Man, mortal. The people demanded him while they were under your influence. They got what you wanted them to want, and he didn't improve your reputation for unwise counsel. Nonetheless, I appointed him and I deposed him. I AM Israel's Eternal King."

"Then where have you been that you should assert your claim to the throne now? Given your absenteeism, getting involved today is mere interference."

"I remind you that I purged the land to allow those kings here in the first place. If you objected to my purging, you should have made them leave. If they were yours by precedent, then how did one man's prayer bring down your entire priestly order? You are a mere invader—an invader losing power."

"SsaaaaaaHH!" she hissed at the Son, angry, yet not knowing what to say.

Just then, Gadreel came slithering up from behind one of the nearby hills, his size equal to that of Mystery. "YOU!" he hissed. "YOU LET THEM GO!"

The two Fallen Angel serpents snapped and twisted each other. The ground shook, trembling even the cave where the prophet hid behind the Son. But, the Son stood still and said nothing.

"You let them all die," Gadreel continued hissing while he punched at Mystery with his tail. "...just how you let Saul die! And, you let Elijah give power to Saraqael on the mount, just how you let David evade Saul all those years."

"How... can... you... complain!" Mystery hissed between snaps. "You just hide and hide and hide, holed up in your small fortress at Tyre. When they gathered on the mount, what did you do to stop them?"

"You were much closer to the crowd than I was! You could have at least asked for help!"

"You couldn't see for yourself?"

"All this power I give you, and what does it get me? You're useless to me!"

"So, you've just been using me?"

"Don't deny you were trying to use me from our first talk about the Forbidden Star."

"So, that star has been on your mind."

"Haaaaaaaaaar! I'll not have your games any longer!"

The two dueled and smashed until at last, Gadreel spewed fire from his mouth at Mystery.

It's generally uneventful when a dragon touches normal fire because normal fire does not harm his scales. But, a dragon's fire can be deadly to another dragon. Even then, Mystery was a Seraph, not an Archine with a serpent's form. She could not breathe fire as Gadreel could.

"Aaahhch! You would burn me!?" she scream-hissed.

"I would chase you into the sea, along with your fatherless son you don't deserve! Off with you!" Gadreel hissed, chasing her west northwest toward the sea, breathing fire as he went.

Then, everything went calm. The Son turned back to look into the cave where the prophet was still hiding. As he turned, Mimi came walking out of the cave, her tear bottle in hand. "His tears have turned back," she said. "They aren't selfish anymore. Now, he gives tears for others."

"Then, we are finished," the Son said.

Mimi bowed a bow of gratitude and then transformed into her wheeled state, the same in shape, yet different in color from Tsuyoshi, who was spinning on the other side of the dilating portal above. She ascended up through the portal, her tear bottle hovering with her.

Remiel looked up through the portal to see Saraqael looking at the Two Trees. Both of the Trees began to glow brighter and brighter until one of them shot a beam of light down upon prophet; the beam from the other tree fell far to the north. Remiel lifted up into the air with his wings outstretched and flew north toward the other beam of light descending down through the clouds.

The prophet had heard none of the conversation; he only saw the wind, the quake, and the fire.

"Elijah," the Son gently said. "What are you doing here?"

"I have served you, but there is none left. Great power comes to kill me too."

"I have seven thousand more, Elijah. I kept them, just as I kept you. It is time to go to them. There is more work to be done with the kings and prophets to come."
**Slaughter**

One of the craftier of the lesser Luminaries also would become known as Azazel. This was not the Azazel who taught Man to work metal, make weapons and jewelry, and beautify their eyelids. That Azazel had been imprisoned. This Azazel assumed the same name after learning from Azazel in the Northern wasteland from his prison. Azazel had taught him so much through the millennia that he had become Azazel's equal, not in power, but in spirit and mind. He was one of the promoted Princes.

Seeing Gabriel's pursuit, and the need to reorganize the Fallen Luminaries, the second Azazel departed from his teacher in the Northern wasteland, stopped short of Canaan, and established himself in the city known at the time as Nineveh. Through Human sacrifice, Azazel set up his stronghold and, while he fronted himself as a god of beauty, requiring adornments of jewelry and cosmetics from his worshipers, he secretly taught weapon crafting to the leading pontiffs and secret clerics at the top of Nineveh's clerical order.

So, Nineveh grew in vanity and immorality. Others of the Fallen came to Nineveh, seeking refuge in Azazel's stronghold. Gadreel saw this as an advantage, knowing that Azazel would soon draw Gabriel's focus. Seeing that the remaining Fallen Watchers, including Azazel, would not hold Nineveh indefinitely, Gadreel remained in hiding and did not intervene. He expanded his subtle grip with the pontiffs and clerics of Mystery—now Gadreel's "frienemy"—while Azazel overreached and invited his own undoing. Afterwards, Gadreel would take Nineveh and its infrastructure.

By cooperating with Tabaet, the spirit of Mystery's Nephlim son, Azazel controlled the king, who seemed to Nineveh as a messiah who liberated the people from the constraints of morality. While the Ninevites viewed fornication as liberation, many children grew up as orphans and saw firsthand why fornication causes an uninstituted kind of slavery in the following generation.

The orphans of fornication and murder would be a threat to Azazel's power since their cries for justice would be heard by the Lord of Spirits. So, he revived the teaching of the vanquished Kasdeja from Egypt—to strike the babe in the womb. He also reconvened the advanced weapon crafting taught by the former Azazel. Nineveh seemed to excel in armored technology, but it was merely rehashed knowledge of the Luminaries not taught since before the Great Flood.

To his worshipers of vanity and fashion, Azazel sold the womb-strike as "compassion", so the children of fornication would not suffer as orphans. But, his secret plan was to increase his grip through this unwitting form of Human sacrifice while silencing those who would cry to the Heaven for justice.

His overreaching undid him because Humanity could only be contained by the Maker—the Lord of Spirits Himself. Some children had to be born to continue the population of Nineveh, lest all of Azazel's Human sacrifices cease, and his stronghold along with them. Those who were born grieved the loss of their would-be siblings and their cry reached to the Heaven.

When Nineveh drew Gabriel's attention, he turned took counsel with Remiel. "We need the prophet, Jonah," Gabriel said.

"Jonah is indeed a prophet," Remiel said. "But, he is blinded by his own thirst for justice. He has not yet risen to his form as a shining star in the darkness."

"We do not need Jonah's own righteousness," Gabriel answered. "We only need his words. Can he be driven?"

"He can be driven, but he is no ordinary prophet," came another voice. Gabriel and Remiel turned to see the Son standing with them. "Jonah is one who shall rise, but he must be tested. Send him in his defiance and he will learn greater lessons for his generation when I descend."

"Why is he no ordinary prophet?" Remiel asked.

"Jonah will begin the work of one who is to come after him. He will turn the hearts of children and their fathers to each other so that their city will be saved in their day. His prophetic word will lay in the groundwork for Men to repent, tearing down strongholds of the enemy. And, his own obedience will lead to the repentance of Nineveh."

"So, Jonah will rise from the fall of Nineveh?" Remiel asked.

"Remiel, you must ensure that he journals his story as his end draws near. By the time he has risen, Jonah will not tell the story of his own repentance, but will tell my testimony and the repentance of others. In the end, Jonah will not glorify himself, even in his own repentance unto Hope. This is why, even in his learning, his word will bring the stronghold of Azazel to repentance and pave the way for justice yet to come."

"But, will the words of one rising man succeed at such a time?" Remiel asked. "I have watched Jonah since he was in the womb and none have ever heeded his words, no matter how often you have put those words into his mouth. He has become obstinate and stubborn. And, the power of his words are as of yet unproven..."

As Remiel continued, Phanuel emerged from behind the Son. He has accompanied the Son without drawing attention. "Jonah's words failed because they fell on obstinate ears of his generation. They have not accepted the good message of repentance unto Hope."

"So, the outcry in Nineveh will be enough to empower Jonah's voice," Gabriel asked.

"The prayers of orphans have already given the power, which only my spoken words can unleash. Send my words to Jonah and Nineveh shall be saved in this generation—not on account of Jonah's righteousness, but by my Word."

So, Gabriel departed for Nineveh as Remiel and Phanuel donned their cloaks and took the words of the Son to Jonah.

...

In Nineveh, Jetrel reported to Azazel in his chamber, "Scouts have seen Remiel and Phanuel approaching the prophet Jonah."

"I care not of the fellowship between the Separate and the prophets in Canaan," Azazel said.

"They were wearing cloaks of messengers from the Lord of Spirits. We have seen few messages for Israel since they demolished our strongholds, forcing us to seek refuge here. We believe their message does not concern Israel, but another. Their message could concern us since we are both close and strong."

"Why should you suspect their message concerns Nineveh?" Azazel softly growled, examining Jetrel from the peripheral of his sinister eyes.

"Because others have reported Gabriel approaching our location."

Azazel leaped from his throne, standing speechless as he continued his maniacal gaze.

Jetrel quickly interrupted Azazel's silence, "We have already prepared a ship in Joppa to take Jonah to Tarshish for the amount of gold he carries. He is on his way now. The prophet will have no money to return. And, I have ordered two of our dragons, of the Nephilim spirits we have been gathering, to give Jonah a false sense of peace as he moves as far from Nineveh as possible..."

"That won't be enough," Azazel blurted, his voice still soft and his tone evermore grave.

"I assure you," Jetrel continued, "these dragons have proven to be among the best at mimicking the sensation of peace for a righteous Man in rebellion. If we can keep Jonah in that rebellious state of mind long enough to reach Tarshish..."

"He'll never arrive. Don't you know who stands on the Mediterranean?"

"We can send reinforcements..." Jetrel asked, his head bowed.

"That would make it worse! Is Azazel from his Northern prison the only Prince who knows the work of the Separate? It was the Mediterranean abyss where my teacher was seized by Raguel. Even if we could afford to send reinforcements with Gabriel's coming assault, none of our Fallen brethren have been able to penetrate Raguel and his host, who still stand on the waters just to the West of Canaan. He is the reason other Princes have not been able to take Greece or Rome, which is why we have depended on empires from the East. He struck Earth with water to kill the Nephilim, from which your dragons came, just after he imprisoned my teacher in the days of Noah. He will strike the water again at the sight of your dragons, which he conquered before. And yet, you sent the Heaven's messenger, along with two of our best dragons, directly to him."

Jetrel defended, "There is time. We have many more dragons to spare since you last accounted..."

"With Phanuel and Remiel accompanying Jonah, your dragon entourage is not only outnumbered, but with all the forces of Nineveh, by sending Jonah to the waters watched by Raguel, we are already outmatched. You have not only incited Raguel's wrath, but my own!"

Jetrel's sword went tumbling across the chamber. Azazel loomed with his own sword in hand, covered in Jetrel's black blood. Jetrel sat on the floor, his torso separated from his legs.

"Making a prophet of the Heaven travel, no matter how rebellious he is, could never succeed," Azazel scolded. "You should have made Jonah reject the words of the Son by encouraging him to sacrifice in his own village so he would be comfortable enough to remain at home. Disobedience coupled with righteous sacrifice creates a most difficult stronghold for our enemy to overcome. Don't you know? Dragons like homes, not travel. How do you think I took Nineveh with the righteous still within its walls? Jonah offered an opportunity to make the same expansion into Canaan, but you convinced him to leave his house and even his village. Now, he will soon tell Nineveh to return to the ways of the Heaven."

Azazel walked past his wounded brother to where his sword lay. "With the mess you made," Azazel continued, "your sword will accomplish more in my left hand than in your right."

"My lord," Jetrel said with what strength he had. "It was not Raguel who struck the water in the days of Noah, but the Maker Himself sent the water to wash away the Nephilim who were already dead."

Azazel gazed back on his slain brother in shock as Jetrel finished with his last few breaths, "Your teacher in the Northern wasteland wasn't there for the Nephilim slaughter. I learned from our dragons that Gabriel struck the Nephilim to slay one another before the flood, just as you have slain me before Jonah's arrival. Can't you see? Gabriel's assault on our fortress at Nineveh has already begun. Tarshish was our only chance and would at least buy us time to escape. That was my advice: Get out before the prophet arrives."

Jetrel fell limp. Azazel had slain his brother. This was his second warning to get out.

But, the Fallen never leave their strongholds, even in the face of inevitable defeat—all except Gadreel, who escapes his worshipers at their repentance and abandons his brethren to the slaughter. That was Azazel's first warning: In all the days of Azazel's occupation at Nineveh, Gadreel was never seen.

...

Three days later, Gabriel approached outside Nineveh, Azazel dashed to meet him, one sword in each hand. Both Watchers, one Darkened, the other illuminating the dark clouds above, faced off as they had millennia before. Gabriel's sword remained on his side.

"So, you have come to take my stronghold," Azazel said in his low and distorted tone.

"No, I have come to take you."

"You have no power within my realm," Azazel said. "I have built a fortress that Jeqon could never have dreamed of."

"Your fortress is weak." Gabriel didn't blink.

"I don't refer to the walls of Nineveh, I refer to the Sacrifice," Azazel retorted. "They offer me their fornication, on which we feast, and they offer me their young, on which we build. Many of the remaining Princes serve me now and Gadreel is nowhere to be found. You have come to meet your own demise. I shall vanquish you and this plight shall be your last."

"You misunderstand our own brother Gadreel. He is always absent in defeat. You forget that Humans' strength is found in their weakness," Gabriel's countenance had not changed as he glared at Azazel.

"What strength do you speak of?" Azazel boasted.

"Humans are too brittle to be gripped, yet too flexible to be contained. You had to leave some alive for your Sacrifices to continue. And yet, you have oppressed them to the point where they have cried up to the Heaven."

"But, their cry cannot bring wrath from the Heaven here—not to this place. There is no prophet to give power to their petition." Azazel's tone masked his bluff.

"Sorry we're late," came Phanuel's voice. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

Azazel screamed. "This was a trap. You had been planning to draw me out where I would be outnumbered!"

"Azazel," Phanuel said, "No matter what way we defeat the Fallen, you always accuse us of conspiracy. Does it not occur to you that you were your own undoing? If your teacher in the Northern wasteland had taught you anything, it should be that his imprisonment kept him safe from the fruit of his own evil. You should have stayed where we bound him. Instead, you came here."

"More empty words," Azazel shrieked. "You're hiding something. Surely you do not put your trust in a rogue prophet such as the likes of Jonah!"

"If you believe that Jonah has no power, then why are you wielding Jetrel's sword?" Phaunel asked in his same light-hearted tone. Azazel stood speechless as Phanuel continued, "You slew your own brother in fear after he sent two dragons to deter a prophet sent from the Lord of Spirits. Do you not know that from the time they were allowed to go out from the Nephilim, the dragon-spirits only go where the Lord of Spirits commands them?"

"Our trust is not in any prophet," Remiel plainly added. "Our trust is in the Word given from the Son, which you forsook long ago. There is nothing to help you now."

As Jonah entered the gates, Remiel followed. Darkness covered the walls of Nineveh and the city was darker still, even in daylight. Jonah came, tired and beaten, Remiel watching from behind as a guardian Angel accompanying a Human. The Fallen congregated on the walls and aside the gate to block their way.

"You shall not enter," they said in dark chorus.

"You shall not stand." As Remiel spoke, space in Earth's atmosphere tore open on either side, his right and left. Four Cherubs emerged, two from each tear. The halls of the Heaven could be seen on the other side as the tears closed.

Seeing the four Cherubim and the Archine Prince accompanying the prophet, the Fallen stumbled back and grasped their heads in horror. "This was staged!" they screamed.

Azazel, standing next to Phanuel and Gabriel, looked on from the hill on which they stood, east of the city. "I'm needed down there," Phanuel blurted.

"It is better for me to die than live," said Azazel. "The Lord of Spirits had condemned me from before I opened my wings."

"Your condemnation was your own choice. We all had a choice," Phanuel said as he lifted off and steamed toward the city.

As he went, Azazel flanked his swords, preparing to give chase. But, Gabriel drew his own sword, swung, and Azazel's corpse fell to the desert floor in two pieces, as the two Darkened swords sang through the air, tumbling end over end. Phanuel arrived at Nineveh, Jonah opened his mouth, and the Cherubim's slaughter of the Fallen began.

Gabriel hovered in front of the eastern hill, high above Azazel's corpse. The Son descended to the hill behind him, accompanied by Mimi. "We shall wait to finish our work here," said the Son. "You're needed back in Canaan. Inform Armen that the purge is finished. I have my own words for Jonah."

Gabriel lifted out and sped toward Zion, a stream of cloud trailing behind him. The clouds above Nineveh parted and light shined down on the city as the dragons scattered. The Dark Angels stumbled in wonder at the realization that their own dragons were not under their control while the Cherubim continued their slaughter.

This was how, through Jonah's brokenness, his two Angelic brethren finally brought the young prophet to Nineveh. There, Phanuel did his work to preach the evangel of repentance unto Hope to all Men who heard Jonah's words. Gabriel vanquished another Prince of an evil stronghold. And then, Remiel went with Jonah to help him rise on the hill where the Son waited.

...

Gabriel let out a shout as he stopped to hover above Canaan. "Armen, I know you're here. Nineveh is ready for you."

Gadreel, in his serpent form, glared up at Gabriel. "Using old and forgotten names will not aid you, descended Prince. Your place is in the Heaven. Why have you come here if you still have a place there?"

Gabriel floated above the great plains of Zion, unmoved. "I won't ask the same concerning your own expulsion. But, I will ask why you remain in the land of a people determined enough to wrestle with the Lord of Spirits while your brethren in Nineveh are being vanquished. Wasn't that what you wanted in hiding here?"

Gadreel scowled. He looked over his shoulder to see Michael standing in his usual place on the Mount, just outside Zion. He looked back up at Gabriel, then slithered toward Nineveh.

...

Toward the end of Jonah's life, Remiel appeared to Jonah and instructed him to record the repentance of Nineveh.

"Who am I to record the story of my own life?" Jonah asked. "I was a defiant and angry prophet in my youth. And, none ever listened to me before or since."

"Your story will give Hope and humility to many," Remiel said. "All who rise must begin lowly. They will not know unless you write."

"I can tell the story of Nineveh's repentance unto Hope, but I cannot tell my own. The Lord raises up and tears down in a single night. The purpose of prophecy is His testimony alone."

So, Jonah wrote the story he knew, of how the Lord of Spirits saved an undeserving city through an unworthy prophet. By the time he wrote, Gadreel had long returned to Nineveh.

...

While the majority in Nineveh had repented, the leading clerics only feigned repentance and complied with all laws of righteousness, merely to maintain their control over Nineveh's religious structures. Years passed. Mystery and her son, Tabaet, stayed in Nineveh after its cleansing. Canaan found rest from evil and many kings of the south turned to the Lord of Spirits. Mystery's son grew in strength as he feasted on the Fallen.

Before long, Nineveh's Human sacrifices and fornication resumed. Azazel's many temples had been left standing after the clerics vowed to use them for good. Likewise, Azazel's innocuous customs—day of worship, adornment styles, and the manner in which they beautified their eyelids—had not been purged from the culture. Nineveh's economy flourished from the trade of jewelry and cosmetics. Weapon making also emerged and cities, near and far, traded with Nineveh for its tools of war. Gadreel and Mystery had no need to go elsewhere. So, they consolidated in Nineveh and many of the scattered Luminaries congregated in Nineveh.

At last, Gabriel returned, this time with Raguel. Gadreel met him outside on the far eastern hill. The dark clouds above slowly began to scatter as light pierced the storm. The first light fell on the hill, then slowly grew to cover the city in broad daylight.

"The word has come," Gabriel told Gadreel.

"What word is this? Nineveh has been cleansed once. You cannot cleanse it again."

"Nineveh can be cleansed as often as the Lord of Spirits decrees," Gabriel stated. "But, you are partially correct. This recent prophecy is not about cleansing, but the purging Jonah prayed for, which he helped prepare, but would not see in his day."

"But, you have no prophets this time," Gadreel said, his voice pious and calm as a teacher. "Many prophets have come since Jonah and all of them were rejected in Nineveh. Even Nahum could not turn the hearts of my people."

"They're not your people," Gabriel explained, his eyelids slightly closed in calm, comedic irritation. "Yet, you have seen what the Lord of Spirits has done to His own people many times when they rebelled. Did you not understand?"

"You're biding time," Gadreel hissed as his pious façade faded. "You only want to distract me while another Angel slaughters the Fallen Luminaries who abide here. But, you know the laws of the Heaven."

"No, we're not slaughtering any more Fallen. Not this time."

"Then off with you," Gadreel turned to go back toward the city, returning to his pious tone as quickly as a chameleon changing colors.

Raguel, standing beside Gabriel, gazed at the back of Gadreel's head with eyes that could pierce iron. Then both glanced up toward the horizon at an army approaching in the distance. Gabriel kept his eyes fixed on Gadreel.

"That army has no power against the Fallen," Gadreel said as he glanced down to look at Gabriel and Raguel from the corner of his fiery, serpentine eye.

"No, it doesn't need power," Gabriel said.

"It doesn't need power? Are you toying with me?"

"Your stronghold doesn't have any power itself," Gabriel continued. "This infrastructure was not made for you, it was built by Azazel for Azazel. Your Fallen Angels lost the power to defend the city against an attack from Men when Nineveh repented in the days of Jonah. Then, when Nineveh's Men rejected the Son's words in the mouths of Men like Nahum, Nineveh's mMen also lost the ability to defend the city against Men. Now, neither Men nor Fallen Angels can defend Nineveh."

Gadreel's temper simmered as he stared at the army surrounding Nineveh, straining to keep his pious countenance.

"Armen," Raguel piped-in. Gadreel's face turned sinister. "We don't send prophets for permission to cleanse Earth of your evil, but for permission to keep Men alive when we do. Nineveh's Men said, 'No,' time and again. While the Lord of Spirits does not force His will for Men to live, we were not sure that Nineveh's Men wanted to die. Nahum's word allowed us to bring this army. Nineveh sees the army, but still won't repent as they did in the days of Jonah. After seeing the unchanged reaction of the people in Nineveh as we speak, we finally believe and accept their answer. It's time for you and your Fallen to leave."

Raguel drew his sword, aimed it at Nineveh, a beam of electrical light shot out and struck the city. The army advanced with torches and flaming arrows. Nineveh was soon covered in dust and smoke. All the altars of Azazel were burned. The Fallen Angels had grown in numbers greater than in the days of Azazel, but, with no hope for Human sacrifices to feast on, all of them scattered that day.

Gadreel returned to Tyre, while Mystery and her son fled Nineveh and headed west to the nearest islands, a few of the clerics going with her. None of the Separate Archine met them with resistance. Too many of the Fallen had been vanquished to matter anymore.

* * * * *

Whenever Gabriel pursued Mystery she found respite in Tyre, even after her falling out with Gadreel. Gabriel waged war after war against the remaining Fallen Princes. They were not original Archine Princes, but had been promoted. Having been Archine Powers before they filled vacant positions among the dark Princes, they still preferred to be territorial, behaving like the Powers over Forces. Each of them, in turn, set themselves up over one kingdom after another, in attempt to rule Earth. Through the spirit of her son, Mystery controlled them all, and his spirit grew stronger as it feasted on the promoted Princes Gabriel vanquished.

The final destruction of these Fallen Princes was foreseen by Daniel, the righteous man who served in Babylon, like Terah of Ur, would also call on the name of the Lord of Spirits. He foresaw the end of the Fallen Princes.

Gabriel fought the Fallen for a two and a half millennia blitz, only resting when the Heaven summoned him, while Michael would continue his fight in his absence. Because of Gabriel's forbearance, the Dragon was not able to gain control over the entire Earth.

Once the Son entered Earth and the name of the Son of Man was revealed to Humanity, Gabriel would have victory over the last Prince and Mystery would no longer linger too long at any one city by the sea.
**Sanctified**

The Son entered Earth in the land of Canaan and took the name meaning _God Saves_. Because he already existed as the Son, he did not need to be created on the Natural plan; he merely _entered_ it. So, he was born of a virgin. Having no Human father, the curse of Adam's choice did not enter his Human body on the Natural Plane. This gave him an advantage since the Nephilim spirits could not ride him as a host.

After coming of age and having mastered his own craft and trade, he took to the wilderness to prepare for the final three years of his life on Earth. Michael held watch with him.

Then came Gadreel.

"You think I don't see you here, towering high above the hills? It's almost as if you want to be found."

"That's how the light works. It is easy to find for those who want to."

"It's not very secretive. I don't know what you plan to get away with."

"Being secretive is not our goal, making it interesting that it should cross your mind. But, you are half correct."

"Half correct in what?"

"We aren't getting away with anything; you are. And, that is going to stop now."

"How?"

"That's the half you're correct about. You don't know what we're doing. You can't figure it out. And, you wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

Gadreel's facial expression shifted as he shifted topics. He slithered around Michael as if pacing in thought. "Hasn't it bothered you that you're a servant to these Humans?"

"I serve the One and the Son."

"Yes, I know that you like to say it that way. But, in reality, you can't do anything unless the Humans pray. I can't do anything unless they kill or wrong each other. So, essentially, you and I are both slaves to Man. Where is the glory and power in that?"

"The Cherubin Angels meet the needs of us Archine in our purposes. The Ophannim are even more powerful and facilitate the needs of the Cherubim. Is it not more glorious to be the servant?"

"More propaganda."

"Truth, not propaganda."

"You should have seen the Lord of Spirits for the liar He is the moment we saw that Angels would be subject to Man."

"Gadreel, you won't convince me for a micro moment that you rebelled for that reason. Your rebellion..."

"...came long before. I know your version of the story, brother," Gadreel interrupted. "Men are weak. There is no reason to serve them. The Son has demoted himself by assuming his own Image."

"You claim he is weak, yet you just said we are both bound to his will."

"Watch. I'll show you how weak he is." Gadreel slithered over to the Son and looked him square in the eyes. "If you are truly the Son, feed yourself with one of these rocks."

The Son didn't even acknowledge Gadreel, but just looked out across the landscape. "I already had it written, 'Man's bread entirely comes from the Word of the One."

"Gadreel, you're only going to make things worse for yourself," Michael said with a slight sigh, but without losing his watchman-like composure.

"He will serve me. You'll see. Let me show him a vision."

"Fine. Show him your vision," Michael said.

Gadreel showed the Son an open vision of the kingdoms across Earth. "These are all mine," he said to the Son. "Men in these places all yielded it to me. They did what I provoked them to, which gave me the right to argue..."

"...Gadreel, he knows this," Michael interrupted. "You argued this very topic with him many times before. As I recall, he often schooled you on why your authority in Earth was so limited. Get to the point."

"Fine!" Gadreel barked at Michael. Then, he turned back to the Son, "I'll let you be the ruler over these, if you will simply bow and pledge to serve me."

The Son kept his gaze toward the horizon, lifted his hand and the open vision vanished. Gadreel looked at Michael in mild protest.

"He can shut it down if he wants, you know," Michael said with a charmingly defensive shrug, still keeping his posture.

Then the Son answered, "I also had it written so clearly, 'Love the Lord of Spirits. He is your God. Worship Him only.'"

"Bwaaa!" Gadreel barked.

"Careful, there. You're going to give me all the standing I need to have that Cherub sent back."

"Another vision!" Gadreel demanded.

"I never took that ability away," Michael said. "He shut it down. Try again if you still want. But, this is boring. You're only proving to both of us what I already knew and you wouldn't believe. Learn on your own time."

Gadreel showed another open vision from the top of the Temple on Mount Moriah. "If you're the Son, throw yourself from this height. Michael is here to catch you. You had it written, 'His Angels won't let one foot strike a rock.'"

The Son finally had had enough. He stood up and looked Gadreel square in the eye. "I also had it written, just as you have been told more than once, just as you have been shown even more than you have been told, 'Do not test me.'" Then up from his body streamed a beam of light. It reminded Gadreel of the light he had seen before, descending on Lot and on Elijah. But, this light did not descend on the Son, it went up from him.

Gadreel looked up to see where the light was going. Then, he saw the same Cherub approaching the beam of light, high up in the sky. Gadreel looked at the Cherub for one brief moment, scowled at Michael, then slithered off.

* * * * *

From his fortress in the north, Gadreel looked southward toward Jerusalem and Bethany.

For three years the Son had evaded him, dismantling his administration in Canaan, driving off Nephilim spirits through his teaching, and breaking apart his two-faction institution of teaching and law. Those three years had done more to disrupt Gadreel's stronghold on Canaan than what Raphael and Saraqael had done at the ancient Twin Cities and what Elijah had done at Mount Carmel combined. The Son had escaped his snares the same as Joseph and others like him. He seethed with rage and envy.

Mystery was gone. She was busy running the empire seated on a peninsula across the neighboring sea. It was the same empire which now controlled Canaan. Though Gadreel kept Canaan in rebellion as part of his double-edged plot with Mystery, there were still good Men from the empire who had the final say in Canaan. Even though Gadreel had some claim to the kingdoms of Earth, he still did not have enough support from local rulers to kill the Son once and for all. He would have to orchestrate an asymmetric strike.

The opportunity finally came. One night, the dishonest pupil stole away from the Son. Gadreel wasted no time. He slithered down toward Bethany, his court of teachers to him. Michael towered above, watching everything. Gadreel peered up at Michael, grinning as if Michael could not stop him. As the traitor and the teachers conspired, Gadreel gleamed with delight.

"You can't keep me from this," Gadreel prodded at Michael. "So then, why did the Son ever allow this traitor in his midst?"

"Something tells me that you are not genuinely seeking an answer," Michael answered.

"It was oversight. The Son didn't think this through. He thought about it somewhat, but not as thoroughly as I did." Gadreel's eyes were hungry. He pined with angst, tasting the air with his tongue as the traitor walked toward the city.

"Though you don't want an answer, an answer you shall find, Armen."

"Stop calling me _Armen_!"

"Oh, Gadreel it is. It is almost as if you hope I will forget about you if you change your name enough times. You are probably going to take an alias after this."

"After this? To what do you refer?"

"You're the one scheming. That's why you're taking the traitor to the city. Don't you know how this is going to end? It is going to end _you_."

"You just want to make me doubtful. That won't work. You can't stop me. You and the Son and the Heaven—your compassion has been your own undoing. By allowing this liar under the Son's tutelage, you thought to redeem him, to change him. But, you should have known; Judas was always wise to your schemes. He never would have followed your cunning and conniving plots. It's over, Michael. Better go home."

"Do you think that the Son did not see his soul and ours before any of us awoke?"

"Haah! You're trying to distract me with that 'foreknowledge' gibberish. No one sets my destiny except myself."

"Except that you already set your destiny, so it seems."

"Tonight, the Son will belong to me and I will kill him within a day."

"Do you think that was not part of his plan in coming here?"

"So, you do have a plan after all!"

"This is no secret, Gadreel. Just as it is no secret that you never seem to be able to figure out what the plan is. You attempt to foil the plans of the Heaven, but you always play into the plan and harm yourself in the process. Do you think this time will be different?"

"So, that's the secret!"

"What secret, Armen-Gadreel?"

Gadreel scowled at Michael when he heard the name _Armen_. "The Forbidden Star."

"The Forbidden Star of Fire? That's what this is all about, then. You're still trying to access it. Gadreel..."

"It is the key to overthrowing the One—the Lord of Spirits, He who stays on that mega Throne and never leaves—that is what you have been hiding..."

"Don't do this to yourself, Gadreel."

"Do what? Are you afraid I'm going to interrupt your plans?"

"The Son did not come here to defeat you, Gadreel, but by involving yourself he is going to by precedent."

"What did he come here for then, if not to attack me?"

"He came to give life," Michael said peaceably confidently, looking at Gadreel with a compassion he did not deserve.

"Ahah! He came to bring a deeper connection between Humanity and the One!"

"You're confusing yourself, Armen."

"You're the one confused by not remembering my name!"

"I remember. It's just that you don't remember your own name, just as you don't remember that the Star of Fire was forbidden for good reason."

"Good reason to protect the One from His weakness."

"I don't care to argue with you. I don't need to."

"Then why are you here?"

"I'm here to make sure that the Son dies in the right place."

"The right place? Any place is the right place. If he dies then he's dead. If he's dead, his spirit opens and the One becomes vulnerable."

"Only his physical body can die here, Gadreel. He is not an Angel like we are. He awoke before us. And, when his body dies here, it doesn't expose his weakness, it exposes his strength."

"Strength, weakness, call it what you will. You thought it could only be accessed through the Star of Fire. Now you came here to make an entire race of Humans too powerful for me to overcome."

"Gadreel, he is restoring all Humans from the mess you made with the first two Humans. If he does, then your damage is undone and there will be no damages for you to be held responsible for. He makes all things news. Just leave it, then no one needs to be condemned."

"So, you're going to lead the Son to 'the right place', as you say, then just kill him."

"That's the idea."

"So, he was born to die."

"That's the idea."

"So, I can kill him."

"No, no one can kill him. He is here to give his life freely."

"No. Not your way! He will die, but not your way! When he gets to that place where you want him to die, I'm going to kill him myself. I'll have my partisan teachers debate until they get some excuse from Moses's own law if I have to. But, I'm going to make sure he dies my way. Earth is mine! And soon, the Son will be dead. I'm not letting you run things anymore!"

With those words, Gadreel stood up in his serpent form, tall above the traitor, Judas, and then shrunk down into the traitor's body. Judas blinked with the white eyelids of a reptile. Then his eyes had the long pupils of a reptile. "Thirty," he said to the teachers. They were gathered late at night in the courts near the Temple on Mount Moriah. "Thirty is enough. I can buy myself a nice field with that. I'm not a greedy man, after all."

...

"Would you just back off!"

"Gadreel, I told you I would be following him."

"You let me beat him bloody. Why bother to stay around?"

"I already told you," Michael said with explanatory emphasis. "Asking again is not going to change my answer."

"Could you at least explain why?"

"I already did. Asking a question I just answered is your attempt to change my answer."

"I don't want to change your answer."

"You want to change my mind."

"Why shouldn't I? If he's the Son, why can't he bring himself down off of that cross?"

"I told you that he came here to die. Taking himself off of that cross would defeat the purpose."

"You thought I wouldn't spit on him and make his closest friend betray him! You thought I wouldn't dare, but I did anyway—and you didn't stop me because you couldn't!"

"Gadreel, please..."

"I beat him up and you didn't stop me. I think he's a decoy. There's nothing splendid about him anyway. Where is the real Son?"

Michael didn't answer.

"You're hiding the real Son while this imposter dies in his place. The One would never let His Son suffer like this. At least I wouldn't."

"You've never suffered for anyone, Armen. It's too beneath you to stop others from suffering for you. And, in the end, you will suffer for yourself."

"I told you to stop calling me by that name."

"You are who you are, Armen-Gadreel. And, the Son IS who he IS. And, right now he IS on that cross as the final Human Sacrifice to undo all of the Human sacrifices you have performed through the millennia and all the Human sacrifices you ever will."

"That's what this is about?"

"Hello? You couldn't see that. Look where we are. Look at the hill we are on top of."

Gadreel looked beneath the hill. Angels can see through the land when it suits them, but it hadn't suited Gadreel until Michael mentioned it.

"No, it can't be. You brought him here to die?"

"He's not here to attack you. This isn't even about you. He's here to undo the mess you made. There's nothing you can do to stop him. Your judgment has not been finalized. Stop sniveling and cut your losses."

"No way! You're just telling me that because I can stop you and you know it."

"Gadreel..."

"Where is your Cherub?"

"It doesn't matter. But, would you like to see him?"

Gadreel scowled, but said nothing.

Only Michael stood watch. No other Separate Archine were in sight, not even the Cherub. The Son, nailed to a log from a tree, hung there bleeding. Fallen Archine of all levels stood all around. One of mid-ranking Fallen Archine dashed toward the Son, but Michael did nothing.

"You're not even going to defend him?" Gadreel hissed.

As the Fallen Archine closed in on the Son, light flashed from the center of the Son's body and the Fallen Archine vaporized. Gadreel's eyes grew wide. The sky grew dark. The sun could not be seen.

"What is this?" Gadreel squealed. "If Angels can't kill him, why are you even here?"

Michael said nothing.

"Answer me!"

Michael still said nothing. Hours passed. The darkness grew deeper and deeper. Veins of dark cloud swarmed all around the Son, much like the cloud that formed about Mystery's choir when she tried to direct the Angelic Assembly. But, this cloud came from all around Son. It seemed to be draining into him, as if his spirit's touchpoints were swallowing up the darkness from all across Earth.

As the dark cloud continued to vanish within the Son, Michael watched closely, towering above the Son. When the last of the cloud had finally been swallowed up, the Son looked up and said, "It's finished." Michael turned and walked down the hill.

Gadreel just stared at the Son, hanging there, motionless. "That's it? You're just going to leave him there."

Without a word, Michael suddenly turned around and unsheathed his huge sword. With both hands he raised it above his head, then slammed its flat side down against the ground. The ground beneath the Son slightly cracked and his blood drained down into the soil below. Tremors from the shock filled the city. Michael leaped up into the air, dashed toward the Temple in a streak of light, and ripped its inner curtain from the top down.

"You're done, Armen. There's nothing you can do. Leave." Michael didn't even watch to see what Gadreel would do. He simply stretched his wings and lifted up into the sky.

Gadreel sat on the ground in front of the Son. "Michael left you," he said, looking up at the log in the ground. The Son's Spirit looked down at Gadreel from the log he was nailed to, but he gave no answer.

"I know you can hear me."

No answer.

"You're all alone now."

No answer.

"Who is going to defend you?"

Still, no answer. The Son just looked down at Gadreel.

"Fine, then you won't mind if I kill you right here. Isn't there some law about dead bodies on the Sabbath. It's almost night time."

Some of the clerics from Mystery's institution began complaining to the soldiers who watched the Son. They went up to break the legs of the others. But, the Son was already dead.

"Dead already? You mean I can't kill him?" Gadreel just stared at the Son in disbelief.

The soldiers kept talking among themselves. Finally Gadreel grabbed a spear in one of the soldier's hands and thrust it into the Son's side. He didn't move. Only blood and water came out.

"He's already dead! He's already dead! Michael, you deceiver! He already died and you didn't even let me see! Michael!"

The Son's Spirit looked down at Gadreel, Gadreel looked back, and the Spirit dove headfirst, deep down into the ground.

* * * * *

The next day passed, the day of rest. The following morning, the Son's spirit re-entered his body where it had been laid in a tomb. Gabriel waited outside.

The stone began to roll to one side. Gabriel looked down. There was the Son, a little more handsome than before, dusting off his hands.

"You concealed yourself well," Gabriel chuckled.

"No need to show off. We're all Human," the Son said with a smile.

"Speak for yourselves."

"We have."

"Uriel's been busy, I take it."

"We were busy yesterday."

"Isn't that supposed to be a day of rest?"

"You're an Angel, what do you care? Besides, I was dead. I was resting by definition. Resting quite peacefully, I might add."

Two guards could be seen, fleeing in the distance.

"I hope you didn't try to scare them," the Son joked.

"It's kind of hard not to. I'm somewhat dressed the same as them, but..."

"Maybe they realized you were out of their league."

"That must have been it. I'm waiting for the day when they won't be scared to see me."

"Don't worry. I'll make sure word reaches them so they know what happened."

"Look, here come some of your friends..."

Two women approached. They were quite surprised about the stone having moved.

"Mary," the Son said to one of the women. "Why are you so sad?"

"It's all hopeless," the woman cried.

"Hopeless?" the Son asked.

"They have taken my Lord. It's all over. They killed him. Now they even took his body."

"The same Lord who walked on water, healed the lame, gave sight to the blind, drove out demons, and even brought your friend back to life a couple weeks ago?"

"Yeah..." she broke down crying. "He's gone for good now. There's no way he can bring himself back to life with his body stolen..."

"Mary..."

She stopped crying and looked up, gazing forward in thought. Realization came over her face. The Son stood behind her with a peaceful smile. She turned around. "It's you!" she screamed. The woman ran up to him and hugged him like a child just rescued from the water. "It's you! It's you! It's you! It's you!"

"Easy girl. There, there now. You don't need to grab hold of me. I'm not with my Father yet. I'm still here."

"You're... you're..."

"Alive."

"Yes. You're alive."

"Go tell them. They also need to know. Go tell them all."
**Secluded**

Over a thousand years had passed since the Son had entered Humanity as Earth's Messiah. Those who spread Message of him were known in the Heaven as "Messengers". They grew in number, but many problems grew with them—both against them and among them. This drew Michael's attention and he sought counsel with the Son.

The Son sat atop his horse in the outer court of the Heaven, ambling circles around John, his cousin. John stood, grooming his horse.

"It's going to be a while before you train that thing if you groom it all the time," the Son said.

"I know. But, I wore clothes made of camel hair. I know how uncomfortable it can be, even for a horse."

"Michael!" the Son shouted, seeing the Angel approach in the distance. The Son rode his white horse toward the Archine Prince. "Keep grooming, no matter what you miss," he playfully hollered back at John.

"News of Earth," Michael said. "Good and bad, but mostly questions."

"Those whose eyes have been opened to my first arrival as their Messiah are strong; they grow in number. That is good news for sure."

"Indeed. The Messengers have transformed much of Europe and continue to sprawl. From time to time, they pray, giving us power to work and keep them strong and safe. Righteousness fills Earth."

"But..."

"But, their institutions—they are built on brittle systems."

"Gadreel designed them that way when he and Mystery surrendered to my followers at Rome."

"Now, they run its infrastructure from behind the scenes. Europe's government is strong and guards your Message, but it is built on Mystery's order. If something isn't done within a few centuries, Gadreel and Mystery will be strong enough to purge all knowledge about you from the very institution that touts your name, taking them back to the darkness in the days before Noah."

"No worries. Gabriel won't let her structures get out of hand."

"How so?"

"I told him to let Nephilim spirits ride my followers if they get dependent on rigid institutions. I sent those spirits just for that purpose."

"...so they can't get strong enough to eradicate your name."

"Yep. No need to worry. All devils are still my devils."

"I would worry about it, but I'm too busy with this special assignment you have me on."

"Ahh, yes. The ten tribes sent out."

"They are completely safe."

"How is their technology?" the Son asked.

"I won't teach them sciences, but I have guided them to the right circumstances where they can discover it more quickly." Michael grinned a little. Talk of Angels teaching technology was an old subject whenever the Heaven discussed Humanity on Earth.

"So it should be. They are smart, but they must learn sciences on their own."

"But, Canaan is the problem now."

"No Messengers there."

"I have been watching. But, I AM interested in your own words on the matter?"

"I would rather have Gabriel explain it."

The Son nodded. Both looked over to Tsuyoshi who began spinning. As the portal appeared behind him, they could see Gabriel looking up. He hovered above Canaan.

"Describe the matter in your own words, brother," Michael shouted down through the portal. "The Son IS interested."

"There seem to be three rising cults that have developed since you ascended," Gabriel said to the Son. "Mystery has combined her Sun Cult with the Messengers and their government in Europe. The Sun Cult runs things behind the scenes and causes constant friction. The people think it is a normal part of history when Mystery is actually stirring their wars."

"So, we have the Sun Cult mixed with my Messengers and their government. What of the other two you mentioned?"

"We have aborigines all over Earth. They have made little to no progress since they stopped building their tower at Babble. They don't pursue science, so the Fallen tell lies about nature to keep them contained. We reach out to them, but the Fallen do too. Luminaries exploit their lack of information and distort their understanding. To the East, they do have math and architecture, but they only copy medicine from the past and make little progress elsewhere. Aborigines to the West and South mostly war with each other and eat each other. Peaceful pockets exist, but they don't make progress either, nor do they have the strength to stop the evil around them. In the North and East, though, powerful spirit-dragons from Azazel lead warlords to conquer each other. He's using them to build an empire with infrastructure. Other than that, we're not sure what his end game is. He seems to be doing things merely because he can do them, not because they serve any purpose. But at least, he keeps the aborigines to the East preoccupied, so they aren't among the worst."

"...but, the aborigines are not your problem," the Son said agreeably, begging Gabriel's response.

"Correct. The Fallen easily control them, especially Gadreel who controls everything the Fallen do. They're stagnant to the West and South, consolidating to the East, but none of them are spreading."

"You're concerned for them, though."

"Very much. They don't deny things of the Heaven and they aren't corrupted by Mystery's Sun Cult, thankfully. But, when the Luminaries lie, promising power through murder, and control them through confusion, we have no voice. I can't rebut Gadreel. They only have their experience to guide them in virtue, but do not know the truth about our efforts from the Heaven."

The Son did not press Gabriel further on the aborigines, not yet. As a military leader who brings aid through grand strategy is often mistaken as a callous heart, he moved forward with Gabriel's other concerns. "The Sun Cult meddling, aborigines stagnating—and what of the third cult?"

"The third is from Tabaet, the spirit-son of Mystery, the Seraph," Gabriel explained. "He started a Moon Cult, which spreads its teaching through violent conquest, but has stagnated in science. They only institute control and chaos, no major technological progress, not on their own anyway. More importantly, they give no justice to those who are different from them, let alone anyone who opposes them; they can't rule a world of diverse Men."

"How do you view this, Michael?"

"The Sun Cult hides in the shadows. But, this Moon Cult teaches virtue without patience. They kill dissenters. At first, it seems virtuous, but once they control a territory, rats grow large, the land becomes filthy, and they find excuses to kill each other."

"The Moon Cult is a global suicide cult," Gabriel said, looking up through the portal. "And, it is every bit as seductive as any suicide cult. Now, they want their seat to be on Mount Moriah."

"Israel didn't recognize you, but the Messengers did," Michael added. "The Sun and Moon Cults both await another messiah, a fake—though their followers fight, the Sun and the Moon Cults await the _same fake messiah_. We think that commonality was Gadreel's doing. It seems that Tabaet plans some way take a body again and become their fake messiah. When he rises, they will easily unite under him. To us, it looks like these two Cults are the early beginnings of the armies that will stand against us before you go back. On the other hand, the aborigines in South, East, and West don't know about any messiah at all, real or fake."

The Son looked at Michael, "My followers can spread my Message that I, the Messiah, already came and that my return approaches; they can inform the aborigines. The Sun Cult isn't as big of a threat as Mystery wants us to think it is. We know that and so can my followers if they want to listen to me. So, you're concerned about this third, new Moon Cult."

"Yes," Michael said. "Gadreel benefits from both instituted Cults, even though this Moon Cult is run by Tabaet. It's spreading like wildfire and gives Gadreel more power every day. Messengers have been all but purged from Canaan. Many moved to Europe, learning and praying mainly within Mystery's rigid institutions. There is almost no prayer coming from Canaan with which we can stop the Dragon."

Gabriel added, "What prayer does rise begs for you to allow Messengers in Canaan once again. I have some prayer to work with, but we need your approval and direction." Gabriel held out his censor, half full of incense.

"Could Remiel help?" Michael asked.

"I've got him busy in Europe," the Son answered matter-of-factly.

"Many are rising lately," Gabriel explained to Michael, "growing in stewardship even from deep beneath the servants of kings."

"That's Remiel's work for sure," Michael said. "But, why now? What of the situation in Canaan?"

Some things about Humanity can be difficult for Angels to understand unless a Human explains it.

The Son turned his head to Michael and smiled. "For a servant or craftsman working under an institution, wealth comes by permission. Even then, it is only wealth, neither growth nor prosperity. But, _merchants_ —whether stewards or craftsmen—are different because their work can only thrive outside of institutions. They only grow wealth if they prosper, which means being inventive, useful, and delightful."

"But, Canaan is a high priority. Why raise up such merchants at this time?" Michael asked.

"Because that will free Humans from Mystery's institutions, while those institutions continue to serve me in other purposes. Institutions can help Humans, but only if the Humans remain free. You'll need that for what you're up against."

Gabriel's tone suggested that he thought his question strayed off-topic, but he was too curious not to ask. "How does being a merchant free people from an institution that tries to enslave them?"

Just then, John rode over and looked at the Angels, "You guys hit the 'Play' button."

Gabriel's body language said that he had been had.

"I was a craftsman and a merchant until I was 30," the Son said. "I didn't beg as a Rabbi—Judas embezzled, but only I noticed—and I certainly didn't leave my mother as a poor widow when I had her adopt John—the other John. Believe me when I say that diligently working until one learns how to prosper by being innovative, useful, and delightful—it has a way of liberating Humans from stagnant institutions.

"Serving an institution makes it hard to learn those skills because institutional wealth comes by permission, not necessarily usefulness. Many times, institutions behead people for being useful, especially if the Fallen are involved; just ask my cousin, John, here. I was both useful and delightful—and we all know how that turned out. Without me, institutions often sacrifice usefulness on the altar of conformity; it's innate.

"My skills as both a craftsman and a merchant informed my teaching as much as Scripture and prayer did. Had I not been a merchant, I would not have been so free to teach and my teaching would not have helped other Humans to be useful or delightful—and to prosper in so many ways! All that excitement about my Message—that was because the Humans I taught had been _truly liberated_. I knew that teaching—partially—because I was raised as a merchant-craftsman."

"I guess Remiel's work is really important, even though it isn't so obvious to us," Gabriel said. "We can't ask him for more." Gabriel turned to Michael.

"What would you have us do?" Michael asked. "Remiel raises up leaders to spread freedom while remaining under kings and their servants. That can help liberate some Humans, but Mystery's institutions still enslave and distort your Message. Then, we also have the problem of Canaan—it's overrun again, this time under that Moon Cult."

"You said that Mystery's institutions are growing too strong," the Son said. His tone was half-way between a rhetorical question and a reminder of what Michael had said earlier. This was his way of explaining his reasoning. "Send the Lion Heart to squander his wealth on an exploit; that will solve both problems."

"His heart is only half pure," Gabriel jumped in. "That exploit might not turn out so well."

"No man's heart is pure," answered the Son. "Still, I send everyone."

"But, squander his wealth? Even in its imperfection, he has an empire. It slowly grows in science and justice. He teaches your Message. Though Mystery controls his government, she only controls at a distance; she is far from him. Once his wealth is gone, that kingdom..."

"It won't be gone," the Son friendlily interrupted with a smile. "Remiel is raising up craftsmen, stewards, and merchants who will keep his kingdom well-funded. They will bring about justice that is long overdue, but only to solve problems that surface if the Lion Heart goes and his kingdom is challenged."

"But, his kingdom does supply much prayer for now," Michael said.

"We cannot allow him to build a just and fair empire," the Son answered. "Keep the prayer, but break up his empire."

"You want to break up his empire? How does that help Canaan?" Gabriel was genuinely curious.

"It's not only _his_ empire," the Son answered. "Mystery's hand will not stay at a distance forever. Once he is gone, great wickedness will occupy his throne. With all the wealth-makers Remiel is about to raise up, breaking up that kingdom is necessary to keep Mystery uninterested. Only I can build an empire that lasts without corruption."

"In what manner shall we do this?" Michael asked.

"Take much of his wealth, pay the way for prayer to re-enter Canaan, then break up his kingdom and give wealth to the lands south of him. Then, Canaan will have prayer and Mystery's institutions will be seriously set back."

"So, you want the Lion Heart to become an adventurer?" Michael asked the Son.

"Yes, him and his rising people. You will need the fruits of their ventures in years to come."

* * * * *

Michael hovered above the icy waters. He could see the snow to the north and the white shores to the south. But, the vessel below him could not. Her passengers only saw ocean without Hope. They had been nearly two months at sea and the winds of winter drew nigh. As one hardship after another befell them, those whose eyes were opened to see the Messiah prayed. Slowly, Michael drew power from their prayer and there was nothing Mystery or the Dragon could do to stop the vessel.

This ship carried two groups of pilgrims. The vision and its funding came from a group of Messengers. But, the skill and labor to make the voyage came from another group. Outwardly, they rejected the Heaven, but among them were some who practiced witchcraft in secret. When they met trouble, the Messengers prayed and the workers repaired. All the while, it was Michael who kept watch.

They were tired and ill. Indeed, land was not far to the west. But, as Michael grew larger over the horizon, Mystery looked up from her small fortress to the south. Michael was coming toward her. And, with him, a nearly endless supply of prayer with which he might even supplant her. Enraged and provoked, Mystery went out to confront Michael above the northern seas.

"What do you bring?" Mystery asked.

"You ask as if you are blind and cannot see yourself."

"Half of those passengers already serve me. Your little, petty party can't make a difference. Turn back."

"...and, the other half give me the power I need to keep you in check."

"You're on another 'conversion' mission—you and your proselytizing. So, you agree that you're lacking numbers..."

"I'm not actually coming to destroy your fortress, Mystery."

"Clever words to make me turn a blind eye. What do you say your purpose is, then?"

"I'm releasing the Message of the Son from your institutions."

"My institutions have only ever helped the words of your precious, little Message. The Son should thank me for all I have helped him with."

"If your institutions were so helpful to the Message, then why did you lead your clerics to persecute people who sought to read it for themselves?"

"People need my help. Most of them can't read. You don't want them to get the wrong idea from ignorance, do you?"

"You could have released them all to learn reading, but your clerics wouldn't teach literacy either."

"Always criticizing, but you weren't leading anything." Mystery sneered at Michael, in her feminine-serpentine form, as if she had silenced the Archine Prince for the first time. But, she had not.

"Here, the Message will no longer be your slave and the people who carry it will no longer be slaves of illiteracy."

"You're trying to establish a nation of readers!"

"I'm not trying, Mystery, I am doing it. And, these shall be the first—both the righteous and the unrighteous. All of them shall read and write. Science will advance and people will live without fear of your disease."

"Oh, I'll find more ways to kill them," Mystery grimaced. "I'll use your science to invent new diseases while you use science to cure them. It's all pointless."

"If it is pointless, then why come out to meet me?"

"Ahah! So, you are attacking me after all! You just want me to turn back, then you will crush my fortress to the south! If you think that you can escape the reach of my clerics, you are mistaken."

"Say what you want, Mystery. But, this vessel shall land at its appointed place."

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" With those words, Mystery began to swell a great storm to the south, drawing wind from the north. The vessel sped up and Mystery pushed waves with her tail that would drive it into the rocks where she waited, licking her lips in anticipation of swallowing the ship whole like a hungry leviathan at sea.

When the Humans aboard the vessel spotted the approaching rocks, Michael unsheathed his sword. "Just a little bigger," he said as the Messengers aboard prayed. The plume of prayer above the vessel mushroomed bigger and bigger. Then, at the last possible moment, he shot out a beam of light from his sword into the cloud, which then erupted with a silent explosion of brilliant lights flying every which way. The winds changed and the storm Mystery had created reversed, blowing the vessel toward the north. A giant Angelic hand came from behind and grabbed the vessel just before it hit the rocks. The vessel harnessed the new wind, turned, and barely avoided running aground.

"You Humans like to wait until the last moment to come through, don't you," Michael chuckled to himself, sheathing his sword. "I wouldn't object if just once you gave me some prayer to answer a little sooner. But, the suspense keeps us on our dorsals, I guess."

"Haaaaw!" Mystery screamed at Michael, turning back at him with a maniacal scowl. "You'll never complete your voyage if you turn back now! I give you the wind you need to finish your travels, yet you turn around. Wasn't it your aim to supplant me?"

"Now, all of a sudden you want me to supplant you? Or, you only pretend to help like a slave master feeding his slaves?"

"Of course I enslave Humans; without my help they would die."

"I just saved them from certain death at the hand of your 'help'."

"They weren't going to die. I would have dealt with them."

"You don't fool me, Mystery. You offer help, but your only goal is to enslave and devour." Michael flapped his wings to catch up to the vessel, escorting it slowly north, back up the coast toward land.

"What about your destination to the south?"

"That was where the passengers thought they were going. That's where you thought they were going. Now that you have made your intentions known, I don't need to guide them any farther south. Their final destination was always going to be the cape in the shape of a fish hook. And, they already know what it looks like."

"You're changing plans because I defeated you. You're just trying to save face. Well, I'm not scared of you!"

"You should be, Mystery. You should be very scared. As of today, slavery has been defeated in the north. The Message has been freed to the Humans. The Humans have been freed from your institutions. Even the wicked who practice witchcraft will receive justice from the governments they compact here with the righteous."

"No, I'll taint your justice with needless witch hunts. Then, they will return to slavery. No nation is built without it. How do you think I built Egypt?"

"I have come here to free slaves and build a better nation. It's over Mystery. Go back to the northeast."

"No! I'll establish a new order of slaves and build a stronger nation with which I will defeat you and your precious little group of book readers!" Mystery slithered off across the sea to the southeast.

Michael looked over at the vessel, which had dropped anchor and already dispatched a small boat rowing toward a large rock on the coast.

"It's beginning," a deep voice came from above.

"Eatlon," Michael said, looking up.

"The barrier around that cape is great to hold on to," Eatlon chimed back with a hearty chuckle in his belly, "especially when you've got to grab a wooden sailboat with your other hand."

"I take your word for it, _Long-arms_. The Message has safely come to your shores."

"Look who came along for the ride. You didn't have to bring the stowaways."

"Do you mean the Messengers or their craftsmen?"

"Both, I guess." Both of the towering Archine laughed.

"But," Eatlon continued, "they are evangelists at heart. And, it's good for them to learn to love every bit as much as it is for them to learn to build. They'll need the skills for the nation that follows."

"Only the Son can establish a perfect kingdom. Until then, spread that Message as far as you can. Bring justice anywhere you can. No matter how many times the Fallen con them, keep them going. It won't be long, now."

"No," Eatlon said, shaking his head. "It won't be long, now."

"Package delivered. I leave them in good hands." Michael turned and flew north as Eatlon stood on the waters and kept watch.

"Now," Eatlon thought to himself. "I just need to get them to that large lake a little way inland. Who's a good spitfire to blaze the trail? Someone who doesn't like boundaries... How 'bout that Billington boy, Francis? I just hope the good governor has it in his heart to listen to the younger generation. No one ever said this would be easy..."

* * * * *

As Message of the Messiah spread across Earth, so did confusion. Mystery's institutions had pretended to help, but tainted the Son's name by notarizing impostors, hypocrites, and cynics. Much of the Sun Cult's secret evil was blamed on the Messengers and even the Son himself.

Gadreel tried to convince Men that he was not the Dragon; Mystery tried to convince Men that the Dragon was the Son—whether to worship the Dragon in clean conscience or to hate the Son with dismissive excuse. Few among Mankind made any distinction between the real and the fake, even those who deeply believed Message of the Messiah's first appearing.

Still, science and knowledge progressed. Men traveled across the face of Earth, then learned more, then traveled faster, then Men began to learn about each other. The new kingdom overseen by Eatlon fueled progress. Just as the Lion Heart had, that kingdom showed love and forgave Israel for persecuting the Son. For that kingdom itself erred many times and all people need forgiveness and forbearance; this was the Message of the Messiah. Michael and Eatlon often worked together, as did the kingdoms they watched, but Mystery also took up her strongholds by their shores.

The Son's Messengers, Mystery's secret Sun Cultists, and Tabaet's Moon Cultists all competed for territory. Aboriginal peoples did not care to compete for as much territory and, if they did, they were usually conquered by one of the two Cults.

When Messengers were able to operate untainted by the Sun Cult, they brought peace to everyone, including aborigines. Their work was neither simple nor easy. The two Cults were closed and the Dragon introduced witchcraft and lies wherever he could.

When war was at its height, one particular Separate Archine Power to the East guarded a sprawl of nations. He sought help from Messengers who would not pray.

"I don't understand, Gabriel," he said. The two hovered side by side, just below the clouds. "Why do they not pray for their own countries? They believe their Messiah's Message. They do not need sacrifices. They only need prayer and they can be kept safe. Why do they not pray for their own countries and their own safety? Why?"

"This is a question we Archine cannot understand," Gabriel answered the regional guardian.

Nearby, a band of Fallen Archine gathered on the shores of a neighboring continent. It was all too obvious they were mounting an attack, needing only a little more strength before they could strike.

"I have asked their prophets, but they cannot answer either," the guardian said to Gabriel. "They just don't see what hunts them. What must we do to convince them to pray?"

"How much have you reached out to Mankind?"

"Only as much as I have time," the guardian said.

As they spoke, a portal opened above them with Tsuyoshi on the other side. Beyond, they saw twenty-four Humans seated around the Throne and a scroll with seven broken seals unrolling onto the floor. A mass of Angels was gathered in the court, but the Son was nowhere to be seen.

Looking through the portal, trying to understand why it had opened, a lesser Archine—a messenger—came through. "Gabriel, I have word from the Throne."

Gabriel and the guardian looked at the messenger.

The messenger looked at the guardian. "You are to be called _Alesh_."

"Why a Human name?" the guardian asked.

"Because you reached out to Humanity and Humanity reached back."

"What?" the newly-named guardian, Alesh, asked.

"There's no time. You have been granted permission to take from some of the prayers of the martyrs under the Altar before the Throne. The Heaven has heard Humanity's plea for mercy, just as Humanity heard your plea for prayer."

"Don't wait," Gabriel said. "Go! Get your incense and come back. I shall advance my work with Eatlon." Gabriel left with haste. As he did, the Fallen Archine on the shores looked up at him, wondering why he was leaving. Frightened, they stepped back and reached for their swords.

Alesh dashed up through the portal. The Heaven waited silently. He flew to the Altar, filled his open censor with incense in one scoop, and flung it back through the portal to Earth. Earthquakes and thunder were heard everywhere.

Alesh re-entered, the portal closing behind him. He looked across the lands he guarded. Many of Mystery's institutions and strongholds were in disorder as lesser Fallen Archine scurried about. Lesser Separate Archine advanced across the nations under Alesh's watch. He slowly turned his head about, searching to assess the developing situation.

More Fallen Archine had come to the shores around him, but they did not seem prepared for action. What had happened? Had the incense from his censor stopped them? It was powerful prayer that he had thrown to Earth, but it had only cracked the strongholds of Mystery and the Dragon. It should not have been enough to make the Fallen Archine halt their attack.

"Get more," came a voice behind Alesh. He turned to see the Son, standing five times as tall as Michael, almost to the clouds, both feet on the land below.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm relieving you for a short moment. I'll keep watch over these lands, Alesh."

"You also recognize my Human name?"

"You're the first Angel to be given one."

"It wasn't my idea."

"I know. It was given to you. That is why it is called a _given_ name. Alesh, the first Archine to be given a Human name because he was the first Archine to reach out to Humanity in such trust."

Alesh stood and looked around at the lands in his charge. His Separate Brethren were making advances that they had not been able to make before. "What should I do next?"

"Raise up more prayer," the Son said. "I'll keep your watch while you do."

So, Alesh picked up his censor, still smoldering with half of the incense remaining. He descended on the lands all around and struck at pockets of Messengers.

He dashed Mystery's institutions, breaking walls and snapping chains. Lesser Archine carried Messengers whose chains had recently broken. Alesh continued smashing and dashing, creating craters where Messengers could meet, clearing paths for them to travel, and shaking apart the infrastructure Mystery had build to control them.

* * * * *

The Fallen Luminaries whom Gadreel had sent away after Egypt's demise—would soon to return from the lesser star. They were hungry, but not completely powerless. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Gadreel needed them.

The Fallen Archine watched Earth from the plains of the lesser star. They wondered whether their worshipers would have carried out their last orders. Would Earth be prepared for their rule?

Before their departure, they had deceived aboriginal peoples and various nations in worship of trees and things of Earth. On its previous visit, the lesser star had created high tides and earthquakes. But, this time it was quieter than the Sun Cult expected, most of Humanity wasn't even aware that it came and went.

As these ancient foes of the Heaven descended, they created some storms and earthquakes of their own, but Alesh had already summoned even greater winds and quakes when he threw down his censor. Though the Luminaries expected to return with great fear among Humanity, Humanity barely noticed.

When they descended to Earth, their alters had been abandoned, their temples were in ruin, and most of their worshipers had either killed each other or had been told the Message of the Son and had their eyes opened to recognize the first coming of Earth's Messiah. In anticipation of their return, Gadreel and Mystery had stirred sentiment for nature among Men; nations once again revered trees and clouds, even though they would not give them proper care. Some were ready for the return of the Fallen Luminaries, but their plans had done more harm than help.

Of course, Mystery's Sun Cult was fearful because, for all their evil, they still could not understand things of the Heaven nor could they predict the courses of constellations. So, they prepared for turmoil and did not tell the people in advance, yet the lesser star, known as the Red Dragon, passed quietly and without incident. Enemies of the Heaven, both Human and Angelic, were duped once again, this time, by fear of their own evil.

The returning Luminaries went to their followers, now converted into Mystery's Sun Cult. She had meddled, but the Sun Cult was still useful to the Luminaries. They gave harsh rebuke to their former worshipers, "We told you to be prepared for our return. But, what have you done?"

"We created unrest and promoted violence among Humanity, to offer you a feast of bloodshed at your return."

"Yes, you incited many wars," they said. "So, we can eat. So what? What about control of Earth's governments? Your predecessors were warned when we ascended. Did they not tell you? How many secrets of Mystery have you forgotten?"

Mystery's Sun Cult leaders trembled with fear. "We reinstituted your favored religion—wide-spread worship of Earth," they pleaded. "Many Messengers in our institutions worship Earth because we allow them to pray to the Lord of Spirits at the same time."

"That's a problem. If the Lord of Spirits receives prayer, nothing we do will matter. You should have told Men to pray to the trees, not merely to worship trees by adoration. Lie if you must. Claim that the Lord of Spirits lives in a tree. You should have done whatever necessary so that the Heaven would not receive prayer from righteous Men."

"No need to worry," their followers tried to calm them. "In your absence, all forms of religion, including worship of nature, slowly gave way to natural science. Now, many righteous Men, including Messengers, don't pray to anyone, not even to the Lord of Spirits. So, He doesn't receive much prayer anyhow. Besides, in these times many Men will not worship Earth knowingly. Worship of Earth must be reinstituted subversively. We cultivated sentiment for nature. But, we can only do so much. You have more power than we do. We need you, oh worthy Luminaries! Perhaps now, with you here, you can finish what we could only start."

The Fallen Archine were somewhat pleased at their followers' progress. There was plenty of murder throughout Earth for them to feast on. But, they were nonetheless disappointed, as Fallen Archine always are.

Nothing is as dangerous as a Fallen Angel who is running out of options—especially when his followers are close enough for him to kill them. The Luminaries threatened their worshipers in the Sun Cult, "In other words, you are no longer necessary." They did this only to instill fear; they had no intention kill their worshipers because the Luminaries themselves were desperate. All of them—both the Fallen Luminaries and their worshipers—were desperate.

At their return, the Fallen Luminaries had to be countered. They could influence the weather to a degree, but they did not wield the power of praying Humans whom the Lord of Spirits prepared to cooperate in prayer with Michael. Michael's response to the descending Luminaries was to create unrest through weather.

Though tragic events of nature befell inhabitants of Earth, the Separate Archine from the Heaven brought aid, seeing Humanity through it all. Of all the victims, Humanity grew stronger while Gadreel's scheming suffered the most. Many Messengers had grown lazy and dispassionate. Mystery's institutions kept them distracted with moot battles unable to win the greater war. Grand events of nature began to wake them, but only a few. For the most part, the Messengers still slumbered. Those who did wake began to rise and Remiel had work to do.

At last, the Trumpets of the Heaven sounded, the Messengers arose from their trance, and Michael spoke. Great bodies fell from the skies above Earth. Turmoil was everywhere.

So, Gadreel stood on the shores of the sea. Mystery saw him and brought forth the Leviathan Beast, the spirit of her son Tabaet, who had grown strong through the millennia.

This was Gadreel's new tactic: He gave his authority to Tabaet, the Leviathan from the sea; Mystery rode him as one rides a horse. The Sun Cult went public, swallowed up the widespread witchcraft, and united with the Moon Cult. Though they did not know his name, Humans everywhere worshiped Gadreel as the Dragon for giving his authority to Tabaet the Leviathan; Mystery saddled the Leviathan's new power, just has she had used queens to bridle kings, just as she had used her institutions to muzzle the Messengers.

That's when the Two Trees, now matured, shined brightest.

Mystery used her institutions to kill Messengers under her control and she drank more blood than ever before. But, the Leviathan resented her every bit as much as Gadreel.

She was Mystery—the Seraph who fell from Glory when she tried to direct the praise of the Heaven. Now, clothed in red and drunk on blood of righteous Men, she tried to direct and steer her son. He hated her with every ounce of his will. All along, this conflict between Mystery and her Leviathan son had been the Dragon's plan in giving the Leviathan his power.

Tabaet had devoured and united many spirits into himself, including many of the Nephilim spirits, but also those of vanquished Fallen Archine: Penemue from Greater Uz-Ur, Kasdeja from Egypt, and, after him, the promoted Princes who governed Babylon, the Medes, the Persians, the Greeks, the Romans, and others. He even devoured the spirits that rode clerics in Mystery's institutions that kept the Messengers under her spell.

Mystery's presence had brought the wrath of the Heaven to each of their kingdoms just before Gabriel vanquished them. Their spirits, along with their hatred for her, now lived in the Leviathan she harnessed.

Finally, when she had become so drunk on the blood of righteous Men that she lost her guard, the Leviathan burned her with fire and devoured her... and all the great cities by the waters which she had seduced through the millennia burned to the ground. This pleased the Dragon.

For nearly nine millennia he had wanted to be the one to direct the choirs of the Heaven. Now, Mystery was out of his way. The Dragon was finally the most powerful remaining of all those who had rebelled in Glory.

So, Gadreel came out of hiding in hopes to reveal his true name. But, it was too late. The people of Earth had already begun to worship Tabaet the Leviathan in his stead, for it was the Leviathan who had devoured Mystery and crippled her Sun Cult, ridding Earth of their mischief.

But, how these events transpired is story all to itself...
**Summit**

"You don't actually expect us to. You're in no position to give the orders here."

"Don't care if you do it or not," Elebar said to the tall, lanky thug. A mob stood behind the man, all of them wearing black bandannas on their heads and arms. "I simply told you what I would do if you didn't. This is your last warning: Put all your sticks and chains in a pile over there, put your bandannas in another pile and burn them, then go home and never reassemble again."

"You think I'm afraid of you?"

Elebar rolled his eyes as he took a sigh. "Fine."

"I knew you'd give in."

"Yeah, I did. I'm not going to get what I want today."

"And, just what is that?"

"For you to live."

"You're just going to kill me?"

"Not I, but you did already make the choice to die. I wanted you to have peace so you could live. You don't want peace. Whether you kill me or not, without peace, you won't live, nor the mob behind you."

"More threats. You don't get it Bag Man! We're not afraid of you!" The mob, chains and sticks in hand, started advancing.

Surrounded by the mob of enemies, Elebar looked up. His only garb was a large grain sack with holes cut out for head and arms. He looked up and said, "I can't reason with them."

The mob charged at Elebar. But at three feet from him, they smacked into an invisible wall. "What's this?" the mob leader protested. Some of them had fallen down, getting trampled. Sticks and chains flew toward Elebar, bouncing off of what seemed like an invisible bubble around the sackcloth-clad man.

"I know they won't get it," Michael said, looking down at Elebar. "How do you want to handle it?"

"There aren't a lot of options," Elebar said. "They just won't listen to reason, despite all the evidence, despite all they have seen.

"WE'RE NOT AFRAID OF YOU!" the mob leader shouted. They roared with hatred.

"Just like the last time and all those before," Elebar said. Then he just stood there.

"Who are you talking to?" the leader demanded.

Suddenly, an Angel forty feet tall appeared in the middle of the mob. Most of them only saw his feet and legs first, not knowing what it was they were looking at. When they finally saw Michael towering above them, fear filled the mob, but they only hated Elebar more.

"Okay, we get it," their leader pleaded. "We get it. We'll be good."

"You're only negotiating for another chance," Michael said.

"Stay out of it!" the leader shouted at the Angel.

"It's my turn to talk. If you wouldn't heed the evidence you already saw—if you wouldn't listen to Elebar—if you wouldn't learn from the two hundred mobs I whipped out before you—there is no way that you'll go home and 'be good'. Good people don't mob against a man wearing nothing but a bag."

"That's no ordinary man!" the leader protested.

"Just as that was no ordinary 'repentance' you gave. If he's no ordinary man, then you should have left him alone. But, you can't see reason. You're a danger to yourself and especially everyone else."

"Let them go. Only kill me."

"So they can go start more riots?"

"They only wanted Elebar."

"And, how many homes did they help you burn in the process?"

"People were in our way. We needed weapons to fight him. I united them and gave them purpose."

"Two hundred mobs wiped out—and they believed you when you said sticks from burned homes would help you?"

"But, hold me responsible, not them."

"Responsibility... Isn't _survival_ your responsibility? Weren't you and your soon-to-forsake-you friends touting Charles Darwin's theory that 'only the fit should survive' just last week? What does your inability to learn from two hundred dead mobs say about where you place yourselves in Charles's survival rankings?"

"I don't want to be a philosopher. I'm sorry already, just let them go."

"If you cared about your friends so much then you shouldn't have led them against Elebar. Everyone is responsible for himself. They each chose to be here. You would have killed Elebar by now, which means you have already decided to deal with whatever foe comes after him. Well, here I am."

"But, what he did was wrong. Many people agree with that..."

"...including your followers, even if I let them go."

"Earth needs peace, not vendettas."

"Then you should have dropped your own vendetta and listened to the voice who warned two hundred mobs before you."

"So, we're just a number to you?"

"You were valuable souls to both Elebar and myself. That's why he took time for you. But, then you volunteered to become number 201. Besides, since when did a mob of Darwinists place Heavenly value on a soul? You're just courting fake sympathy as a last resort survival tactic. You contradict yourself because you haven't really thought this through, yet you are evidently determined to mob a man wearing a bag. You're what doctors call a 'disease', which is the real reason why you all got so sick. Elebar offered to heal you; he was not your enemy, I was."

"What about mercy?"

"We gave it to you, but you proved incapable of giving it to others. For mercy's sake, it's time to purge the disease and let you prove Darwin right. He has no friends where he is, I know."

The mob, now in disarray, kept throwing chains and rocks at the center, but from nearby buildings, onlookers couldn't tell why they were doing it, nor why the mob leader kept looking up into the sky, talking to himself.

"You led us into this!" came a shout from the mob. The leader turned to see who had spoken, but then someone else hollered. "Yeah, now an Angel is about to kill us. We shouldn't have listened to you!"

Michael turned, looked up, and slowly lifted off, leaving a trail of steam. Then, it was only Elebar and the mob. He and the leader looked at each other, Elebar closed his eyes and looked down. The mob made one final push to attack him, but trampled each other, turned against each other, and every one of them died—all of them except Elebar.

...

Light from the Two Trees descended down through the clouds, one of them falling on Elebar. The light was brighter than it ever had been, even with Abraham and Lot, even more than Elijah and Elisha after them.

As Elebar slowly crawled over the dead bodies of the mob that attacked him, a camera crew approached. "Saint Elebar," the reporter spoke loudly at a distance. "Would you do an interview."

"Sure, right here. But, I'm not a Saint, at least not in title. Just call me _Elebar_."

"Right. Mr. Elebar, how to you explain the death of so many mobs?"

"They attacked something bigger than themselves."

"But, if you are benevolent, shouldn't you have allowed them to kill you?"

"So they can continue unrest in the world?"

"No, so that so many innocent people wouldn't die."

"They burned homes and killed each other, yet you call them _innocent_."

"Our audience will agree that it looked that way in the end, but some say that you incited them to it."

"If I can incite a good man to become evil then he is either already evil or too weak to make evil halt in his tracks. But, neither is the case. You simply failed to recognize the obvious farther in advance: If they prove evil now then they were evil already."

"And, I suppose you think you saw them as evil farther in advance?"

"I didn't make such a judgment. I simply drew a line in the sand; they crossed it and died. Are you as slow a learner as they were?"

"That almost sounds like a threat?"

"A threat from me that you would kill yourself? You seem to have a threat and a reminder of personal responsibility confused. Reporters should understand, not remain confused after events are made plain."

"Well, I think our audience can get a good idea of what happened here."

"I agree, you've done good gathering and reporting and accepted the answers you were given. I'll talk more if you want."

"Is there anything you would say to the world?"

"Stay home. Stop venture wars. Stop land disputes. Stop trying to fly your flags where you deserve and fly your flags where they stand. Keep peace. And, if you're in a place where someone else is flying their flag instead of yours, go home. Whatever government flies its flag over your home is your government—and legit governments don't make people line up for slaughter. Home is where your flag flies right now—where it flies on government buildings, not on invasion tents or Human slaughteries."

"It seems like you are very opposed to, as you call them, 'venture wars'."

"Absolutely opposed."

"Like King Richard did with his Crusades? You must be opposed what he did then."

"Even if you call Richard's war a 'venture', his 'venture' was not as great as the venture he stood up to. When his enemy stopped venturing into Europe and allowed visitors into the Holy Land, Richard didn't fly his flag on the soil; he packed up and went home."

"So, you supported the Crusades."

"I supported stopping a venture war. Whatever Richard did or didn't do right or wrong, he didn't start that venture war; he ended it."

"But, so many nations have suffered because land was taken from them. How can accepting status quo be ethical?"

"Stealing what was stolen won't right anything wrong. Besides, 'status quo' defines the countless invasions people excuse, not the option to accept the land they already have. The Earth is the Lord's, and everything in it—that means you, me, and everyone else, including where the Lord allows us a home."

"What about refugees? We should just abandon them?"

"Return the armies and I will solve the worldwide refugee crisis in a day."

" _You_ are just going to fix the problem all by yourself? Who do you think you are making such big promises?"

"Others have made and broken bigger promises. As for me, I pray; God answers. You know how this works. Don't pretend that you don't."

"So, you're claiming that your 'God' will answer your prayer within a single day? How can you claim this? How can you _promise_ this?"

"Look at the sky above you. Note the time, right now, in your report."

"It's 21:06 GMT."

"Every invading army and every home nation supporting an army currently invading staked and claimed land—look at the skies above you. When we finish this interview, great black clouds will start to form. These are not rain clouds, but tears in the fabric of space. Wind will not blow them away. They will deny your land of both rain and light. Just as I can take the food from your land, I can make healing and manna rain down on refugee camps and pave them roads leading home."

"What a terrible thing you do? You would smite the land of armies who do not obey you?"

"I would smite the land of invaders."

"So, you want to destabilize current governments?"

"Their invasions have already done that. Two hundred one mobs faced me. How much warning do you need?"

"But, famine in lands around the world will cause more hardship?"

"Then end it! GO HOME!"

"Our audience will want to know about their governments."

"Much could be said of their governments. What do they ask, specifically?"

"Your Message teaches that governments, even dishonest, even with poorly-crafted laws that can't always be obeyed—you teach that even terrible governments provide basic structure for society."

"Yes, this is very true. It even applies to governments that took land from other governments in the past."

"But, this goes even beyond 'civil disobedience' or any other questions about which government is legitimate. By drying up the food in countries around the world, you are eliminating those governments altogether. There won't be any kind of government."

"That was their choice. Go home and I'll lift the famine."

"But, that seems cruel. You can't expect absolute compliance."

"Neither can they expect absolute compliance with all the lands they want to, as they say, 'reclaim'. Besides, these governments haven't been fulfilling their own basic functions."

"What do you mean they haven't been fulfilling _their own basic functions_?"

"Governments must govern, even badly if they are so remedial. They are not supposed to harass, not steal from the people, not slack off... _Governments must govern._ "

"Yes. You say governments must govern..."

"They haven't done that."

"I suppose you mean they have been invading in venture wars rather than governing at home?"

"Don't put words in my mouth. I'm being interviewed; remember, you are the reporter."

"Bad form, sorry. But, please understand my question."

"Forgiven, and I do understand your question. In what way are governments not governing? That is your question."

"Yes. What have governments done so terribly that you think it won't harm more people to remove governments that don't comply?"

"They don't govern, they harass."

"How so?"

"Let's take moral disputes for example."

"You mean mixed-gender marriage and hormone therapy?"

"That, but any topic people debate. Governments allow people to attack each other for being passive on those issues."

"But, the needy should be supported."

"But, the needy include orphans, widows, and foreigners, homeless and fatherless, and friends who struggle to face normal challenges of life."

"What about people who were born into the wrong body?"

"You mean a man born into a woman's body, and other 'mistakes' of the sort?"

"Yes. What about them. Shouldn't society help them?"

"Whether you want to judge and accuse the God in Heaven for which body He gave you, intentionally or by His alleged mistake, is your own decision. You can take it up with God. Leave the rest of us out of it."

"And, I suppose you think you are here to represent Him."

"I do represent Him, but concerning which bodies He gives people I will _not_ represent Him. I have no objection or quarrel with anyone who claims they were born with the wrong body. I don't agree with the idea myself. I think it is good to love and accept whatever body we each were born with. But, if you don't agree with me on that, I will not claim to speak for God against you."

"Then what is your problem with people who were born into the wrong body?"

"Those are your words, not mine. But, relating to the topic, my objection is their mistreatment of their neighbors."

"How? In what way?"

"They expect their neighbors to stop their lives to help them. They have expensive and extensive medical treatments, complex social situations, and many other things in their lives that consume much time and attention."

"So, others should help."

"As important as they claim these pursuits to be, without these treatments and situations, neither they nor their children will starve. Claiming that they were born in the wrong bodies does not make it right to attack other people for not abandoning their lives to run and help them."

"But, shouldn't we always help each other, no matter what we need help with?"

"How far do you want to take that? Should they drop their gender-change treatments to go help a Muslim mother put milk in her fridge when she is tired from taking care of her children all day?"

"Some will say that the Muslim might not like a transgender trying to help in her kitchen."

"You can't assume which people want help and how they want it. So, it is government's role to keep the peace between people in their disputes, not throw gasoline on the flames."

"But, many in our audience don't see the difference between the Good Samaritan helping the poor man on the road and the situation of someone deeply depressed because God had him born with the wrong body."

"Other people are not obligated to quit their jobs so they can attend a wedding. Parents are not obligated to stop feeding their children at home so they can go help you get hormone injections. A supervisor is not obligated to abandon his employees who need their jobs to remain stable, just so he can go march in a civil action parade that he has no opinion about. And, if you were born in a man's body, but want the world to know you are a woman, you have no right to sue the world for not abandoning its basic needs, just to keep up to date on whether you identify as a man or woman or something else. If people don't join your cause, you don't have to buy from their business and you can end your friendship with them, but you can't ask the government to punish them for minding their own business. But, governments have indeed been doing that, and that is what I object to."

"Our audience may think you hate people who have a different gender identity than you think they should."

"I'm only saying that no one has any right to take his problems out on the rest of the world. We all have struggles. We are called to shine the light. In your trouble, shine the light on others, don't demand that others shine the light on you. If we don't shine light on others, why should God shine His sunlight on us?"

"So, you have God's power to stop shining sunlight?"

"...and a whole lot more. God only gives me that power as much as I agree with His purpose."

"What do you want? What do you expect from people before you'll remove these clouds of darkness?"

"Whether you are a person or a government, don't expect others to drop their chores and their lives to help you with your venture pursuits."

"So, a gender-change is a venture pursuit."

"However justified, it is a venture. It is an attempt to change the landscape. It's your own body, not a land war with another nation, so it's not an incursion; don't make it into one."

"So, you support people's right to change genders?"

"God lets them do it, I should support that right also—and I will perform miracles to punish people who attack you for trying to change your gender—but it is wrong to expect other people to abandon their homes to go help you in your venture, no matter how justified you may be."

"So, we all should be pacifists?"

"We should all care of our own homes first. And, we should all respect other people who need to care for their own homes first. If a man is beaten and naked in the street, by all means help him."

"What about gender-change? Do you want governments to outlaw it?"

"I want governments to get out of people's way and keep the peace. But, why are you so focused on just one topic, with all the problems in the world today? Governments must make a way for their people to live in peace with many things. If someone wants to change personal and domestic matters, fine. If someone doesn't care, fine. Government's role is to direct traffic and adjust the right laws to keep the peace between the people—to settle disputes so people don't attack each other, no matter what the issue. In that governments have failed."

"It's civil unrest you object to."

"Yes. Governments must keep people of different ideals from attacking each other."

"And, you think they haven't."

"They absolutely haven't."

"So, what do you think governments have been doing?"

"They have allowed different factions to fight at home, and they have sent off their armies to, as they say, 'reclaim' lands that they owned generations ago."

"Change of topic, what about the war?"

"It should stop right now."

"But, you were opposed to the Liberation Alliance."

"I opposed to venture wars into lands that were already ordered and governed."

"Now, the Rising Sun armies are pushing back the Liberation Alliance. They are repelling the Liberation invasions, but you object?"

"The Rising Sun isn't pushing anyone back! The Liberator wants the Rising Sun to advance their forces so their leaders will get close enough to meet him."

"For what purpose?"

"Hmm... Take a guess... _Surrender?_ "

"His or theirs?"

"There is no difference with the Liberator. He surrenders, they surrender—his goal is to unite them to attack Israel."

"But, Israel is the cause of all the world's problems."

"Not if everyone leaves well enough alone. But, they won't leave Israel alone. After their long, boring philosophy and group therapy sessions, they don't want any place for Israel to fly a flag. And, that means that Israel is actually standing in their way of deeper ambitions, something much greater."

"What is that?"

"Worldwide suicide. The Liberator is leading a worldwide suicide cult, along with Armen whom he worships, the Fallen Angel who is too scared to tell the world his real name."

"So, you claim to know the names of Angels? They don't even exist. The Liberator has taught us that. Technology has proven that there is no God nor any Angels nor even any afterlife. Only by being remembered do we continue to exist."

"—all lies as part of his global intentions of mass suicide."

"How can you slander him so? Even though he is not a sympathizer to their cause, the Liberator has been nothing but supportive of institutions that proclaim that Message of your Messiah!"

"Support and control are easily confused if you haven't known true freedom."

"But, he does know freedom. He is the Liberator..."

"...in name only. He wants attention. Leave him alone."

"So, you're against intervention from the East?"

"It all looks good on the outside—all of it and only on the outside. Everyone should go home and stay home: the Liberator, his Liberation Alliance, the member states of the Rising Sun, the activists, the Apathetics... Everyone should focus on the home front. Wash the face in the mirror first."

"Our time is nearly up. One last question."

"Do ask."

"Do you think it is necessary for your God to invade Earth in order to bring peace?"

"I'll let the results of Earth's governments speak for themselves. Time's not up, not yet."

Elebar looked up at the sky. Archine Angels hovered above Earth far and wide, east, west, south, and north. From in the Heaven, Mimi watched all across Earth in her wheeled form. As the last of the Angels took their places, she began to spin. Elebar gave the nod, the Angels drew their swords, aimed them at the sky, and spots of sky around Earth began to turn black.

* * * * *

Elebar was not the only Messenger in Canaan or its capitol. He was not the only Messenger with his kind of power. He was one among many. At that time, light from the Two Trees came down onto him and one other in Canaan. But, there were many more with Elebar's power throughout Earth.

One of them sat in a pub, far in the West. The TV was on when Elebar's interview aired.

"You think that kind of power will threaten us?" Jonas asked.

"You apparently didn't pay attention," James replied. James had already demonstrated power similar to what Elebar had shown earlier that same day.

Jonas had come from a group of people who claimed to come from Israel's descendents. They studied the Torah and were familiar with the Message of the Messiah, but they were not what they seemed.

Outwardly, they seemed philanthropic and well-mannered. But in secret, they worshiped Mystery as members of her Sun Cult. In turn, Mystery had given them power and wealth, but only on the condition that they keep it secret and that they use their power to stir unrest in the nations and to perpetuate their family lines. Only recently did Mystery actually tell them to make known their Sun Cult to the public.

"I saw what happened on TV just now. I read the reports earlier."

"Then why didn't you figure out that whether you fear us is irrelevant."

"If you don't want people to fear you, then what do you want?" Jonas asked sarcastically.

"I want you to repent."

"Ha! It's too late for that."

"It's never too late," James said.

"You're the one who hasn't been paying attention. I don't mean it's too late for me to repent. I mean that it's too late for you."

"I don't work on your schedule, just how I don't want people to fear me. Both of those make us different."

"Having people fear you makes life quite easy. You should try it."

"I'd rather learn patience. Besides, there's a difference between being worthy of fear and having people fear you. If anyone should fear anyone else, you should fear me."

"So, you do want me to fear you."

"You didn't hear me," James said quite calmly, but with emphasis. "I said _you should_ , I never said _I wanted_ you to. What you should do and what I want are as unrelated to each other as they are unrelated to what you actually do."

"Even with all your power, you should have known by now. I'm still worthy of greater fear."

"Patience, my friend. Patience."

Just then, the newscast changed. A new development was being announced. "We're going to have to leave our normal programming. Major coastal cities across the world are no longer reporting into our headquarters, so we are coming to you live from a backup studio in a secret location. Word has come in from governments that those cities have been destroyed. Some kind of unknown explosive has decimated several major cities. We are still trying to assess what type of explosive was used, whether it was nuclear or something else."

Jonas sat in his chair with his mouth open.

"What was that about fear?" James asked.

* * * * *

"You were supposed to keep it secret," Gadreel hissed.

"For how long?" Mystery raged, her voice sounding like a choir with dark tones.

"Forever!" Gadreel retorted.

"And, what of when our followers grow to such large numbers that they can't remain in secret?"

"Then kill them and feast on their departing spirit trails!"

Mystery yanked on the harness around the Leviathan she rode, bringing the giant Beast about to Gadreel's rear. By now, Tabaet had devoured so many other spirits that he no longer looked like a serpent. His many heads and legs were a hodge-podge so complex that he wouldn't fit into any class of animal known to the Human tongue. He was simply a _Beast_ and Mystery rode him like a trainer rides a horse.

"Perhaps I should have my son devour you next!" Mystery steered the Beast to pounce on Gadreel, but he leaped out of the way at the last moment. She turned to pounce again and, again, the Beast missed. "You don't stand a chance. Where are your fellow Archine Princes now? They've all been killed. I guess four points make a line and that line points to one last Fallen Prince to be... eaten..."

Gadreel didn't take her bait. Even though he had intended the other Fallen Archine Princes to get themselves killed, he said nothing in to correct Mystery's ignorance. "You'd murder the Angel who liberated you in the Heaven? I supported you as choir director from the beginning!"

"That was over seven thousand years ago! Besides, we were only ever going to betray each other, or didn't you think I would?" Again, the Beast landed another pounce, then another.

Gadreel kept dodging and leaping. At last, the Beast landed wrong and almost tripped. "I think you're too drunk to handle that thing," Gadreel hissed up at Mystery.

"I'm in control. Don't you try to instruct me," she howled. Again, the Beast pounced and, again, Gadreel leaped out of the way, this time he fled. Mystery and the Beast gave chase.

When they caught up with Gadreel, he seemed to be panting, tired from the chase. "Please, don't!" he screamed.

"You're mine now. You thought you'd overpower me. You were in command over us Seraphim for three thousand years, but Seraphim were always stronger. We were made before the Archine, don't you remember?"

"Please, don't!"

When Tabaet looked as if he was about to land a blow to Gadreel, Gadreel reared back and shot fire from his mouth straight at Mystery.

"Haaaw!" she screamed from the flames.

Feeling the burn himself, Tabaet shook her off. Both the Beast and the Dragon looked at Mystery as she writhed in the flames. Tabaet looked over at the Dragon, then back at Mystery. Gadreel didn't even try to harm the Beast. Instead, he quietly slunk back, but only slightly.

Tabaet looked at Gadreel, then at Mystery. It only took a moment as he saw his mother burning, then he dashed toward her. As her screams continued he pounced down on her, tore her to pieces, and devoured her. By the time he was finished, Gadreel was gone.

* * * * *

"You were right."

"I could have told you that," James said.

"I've lost everything."

The names of cities and other places destroyed ticked across the bottom of the screen as the news caster continued giving one piece of bad news after another.

"I had so much power, so much wealth," Jonas stated in shock. "We had our contingency plans with backups of backups."

"I know."

"You knew?"

"Of course."

"The extent?"

"Yep."

"How?"

"By the fruits of your lifestyle."

"But, we never disclosed any of that."

"Your actions told me. I didn't need any special inside information to know what you were up to. As I said, you should have feared me, but you didn't. Even then, it was your own Liberator—whom you raised up and funded—who defeated you."

"He wasn't supposed to destroy all those cities—not all of them."

"If only the monsters we create obeyed their creators."

"We specifically told him which cities to avoid."

"That was a mistake. It wasn't your first and probably not your last. But, it was certainly one of them."

Jonas collapsed to the floor, struggling to take it all in. "You did so well managing your affairs. We fought you, but you managed yourselves better than we ever could. I was jealous of you and I know others were too."

"Jonas, there's no reason to be so dramatic."

Jonas began to weep. "You defeated me. You overpowered me. First, you did better work, enough to make me jealous. Then, I lost."

"Enough. Jonas..."

"You excelled because you did a good job at whatever you did. My position came from friends, then I used my position to promote my friends. But, none of us were as skilled as you. Cronyism was my entire career, the only thing I was really good at."

James looked quietly at Jonas. This confession had been a long time coming.

"Then, my own foolishness was my own undoing. We created the Liberator and he just turned on all of us. But, you were never at the mercy of your own monster. You just worked. You defeated me."

"Jonas, I didn't defeat you. Maybe you could say you yourself..."

"But, you did. I'm defeated, you're not, and I was fighting you the whole time. I'm the fool. _I am the fool_..."

As Jonas spoke, two lower Archine stood above him and James. They looked at each other, then one said, "Let's do it." Both Angels raised their hands and gold dust began to fall all over James and Jonas.

As Jonas wept on the floor of the pub, sitting at James's feet, James tried to comfort him. "Get up," he said. "I'm your brother. We're both Human. We're both forgiven."

After a few seconds, they both saw a glittering color on the floor, then on their clothes. Gold dust was appearing all over them and on the floor around.

"It's true!" Jonas declared.

"What's true? A lot has been said here today that is true..."

"The dust!"

"What about it? This is not the first time gold dust has fallen on anyone."

"But, it fell on you just now, and me too. It's true! It's true!"

"What is true, Jonas? _What?_ "

"As a young boy, the rabbi always said, 'May your face be covered in the dust of your rabbi.' And, it's true."

"What is true? So, there's gold dust everywhere. What is it you say is so true?"

"Your Messiah's Message claims that his city's streets are paved with gold. This is his dust—dust from his streets. You are covered in the dust of your rabbi! I can see it now. It really was true!"

"So, I'm covered in gold dust from your Messiah—from the streets of his city! What is so true?"

"He loves you, James. He really, truly does love you. Your rabbi is no traitor. He really does love you! He does! He does love you so!"

* * * * *

"Alright, open it up."

"We're really doing this, aren't we..."

"Just getting started." The Son smiled a hearty smile, standing next to his cousin, John. The portal in the Heaven grew wider and wider, lights from the Two Trees streaming out through it toward Canaan's capitol on the other side. "Hey guys, we're ready for you up here!"

Two dead men, each wearing only a bag for their clothes, suddenly came back to life and stood to their feet. The mob all around them was frozen with fear as they began to rise up into the sky.

As they entered the portal, their clothes changed, their wounds healed, their scars turned to shimmering gold, and their bodies shined like Angels.

"Good to have you," the Son said.

"I think we were technically dead longer than you," one of them joked.

"Not by more than a few hours. Besides, I was dead a lot longer than any of you," John chuckled. "Wanna' see what _I_ can do?"

"Don't do that thing where you take your head off, hold it in your hand, and get your horse all excited." The cousins chuckled for a few moments as the two newly arrived men were given horses beside them. But, the tone grew quieter as the portal drew wider.

The Son gazed down through the portal at Michael. He held watch over Israel from Canaan. Michael looked back. The Son gave him a nod, Michael spoke, and over the next six days, all the stars in the expanse seemed to roll up in a kind of celestial whirlpool. The sun became dark during the day. The moon's light was sunset-red all through its cycle. The Fallen Watchers had no stars to look to for understanding or even to know what day it was. Everyone on Earth trembled, Man and beast and Fallen Angels—all except those who believed that the Messiah had already come and that this was preparation for his fast approaching return.

Weeks passed. Horses and Humans assembled in the outer court of the Heaven. They numbered at least two billion.

...

Below, in Canaan and the surrounding nations, a giant tear could be seen in the skies above. Slowly it had grown, day by day, as the stars had whirled up. Beyond the tear a different kind of "outer space" haunted what once was a sky full of clouds and stars. It even seemed to have what looked like cities and flying objects. But, no one on Earth knew for certain what it was.

It had been several weeks since the two menaces had come back to life and went up through the torn "worm hole" in the sky. Now, the tear was so large that it could even be seen in the skies above Egypt.

The Liberator, as some called him, always had a taste for the dramatic. As the armies of his Alliance came from the North, armies of the Rising Sun approached through the desert to the East. Canaan was surrounded.

All through the centuries, Israel looked for the Messiah. He still had not yet come for them. Enemies congregated on Israel's doorstep. Now, it seemed like the sky itself was about to swallow up the entire Earth and Israel along with it.

The Liberator stood at the front of his armies on the Great Plains under the dark, eerie sky. His clothes displayed fashion and splendor. He wore tall, shiny boots, gloves to match, a fitted suit with no lapel, and a cloak draped behind him. Flags and capes from soldiers flapped in a cool, strong breeze. Earth itself seemed doomed, but the Liberator didn't care.

Standing on the battle field, surrounded by millions of troops, it seemed for all reasons and every purpose that he, indeed, could unite the nations of Earth, if only Israel could be destroyed and removed from his path.

Israel was alone. Messengers had been their only friends in war and peace, but where were they now? The nations who surrounded them on the Great Battle field hailed the Liberator as their Messiah. But, where was the Messiah for whom Israel waited? Who would ever save them now—who _could_ ever save them now?

It was in that moment, far to the West, where no one seemed concerned, that the Message of the Messiah made its final delivery. A small group of Messengers, unaware and unconcerned for the trouble in Canaan, had found their way into the mountains of the Beautiful Land. There, they came across Cain, the lost brother of Abel.

It was thought that Cain died long ago. But, part of his curse had been that he himself could not die. When the Messengers reached him, they told him the Message about the Son. He lifted his hands and praised the Lord of Spirits. And, in the twinkling of an eye, he vanished.

The Messengers with him vanished as well. In fact, Messengers across Earth vanished. Only a few in some places remained, such as those with the power of Elebar. Their bodies shined with light from within—they literally appeared as luminescent, living, moving statues. But, there were not so many of those who shined as there were those who simply disappeared.

...

Behind the Son, in the outer court of the Heaven, two billion new Humans had just appeared. Their bodies were new, like others in the Heaven. Their clothes were new, like others in the Heaven. The crowd was generally silent. The Humans just stood there and looked around at the new scenery.

The Son didn't respond at all. He didn't say anything. He didn't give a nod. He gave no eloquent speech. He simply turned around, smiled, and then turned back toward the portal with Earth on the other side, his eyes fixed on Jerusalem. His horse stamped its front feet and reared its head back with a neigh. "Easy, boy," the Son said, stroking the horse's neck. "I know your excited, but you're not as excited as I AM."

...

The Liberator stood on a kind of personal hover craft, his armies behind him. The hover craft had a handrail with controls and various screens and sensors above and on the sides. It looked almost like a floating media studio equipped with a panel of missile switches.

He moved the hover craft out into the field and turned to face his armies. A large, round video screen floated in the air several hundred feet above. It displayed the Liberator's live image on multiple sides, using some kind of 3D light projection that included the landscape behind him. Similar media centers hovered above, scattered throughout his armies.

"This was not my doing." He paused and moved to a new location a few feet away. It was as if he paced the plains by moving his personal hover craft about. "No. This was _His_ doing." The Liberator pointed up and looked up at the torn sky above. The armies cheered with wrath and drummed their hand weapons against their carbon-armored legs like soldiers beating sword against shield in applause. "...and, this was _their_ doing." He pointed over toward Jerusalem and the armies roared even louder.

While the armies continued their cheers—some chanting, others screaming with rage—the Liberator turned on his hover craft, basking in the spotlight, and sped out farther into the empty field. "No one is going to save them. They think their crazy 'God' up there is going to open up some door and come down here and rescue them." The crowd laughed, then another chant rose: _LI-BER-ATE, LI-BER-ATE, LI-BER-ATE_... After a moment to allow the crowd its crowd-pleaser, he shouted, " _But, we all know that's not going to happen! It's all a show. It's all just a show._ "

...

The people huddled over in Jerusalem heard and saw what was said. To any of them watching the Liberator give his long speech for the first time, it soon became clear that he loved rallying the crowd just as the crowd loved being rallied by him. The sweet, seductive sound of his voice answered with their hungry cheers; it continued for hours. He was rallying his armies to destroy them.

All Israel could do was pray.

...

The Liberator continued.

"...so, you don't need that God up in that sky thing, there. What's He done for us down here anyway? Let Him stay up there. Go on! Let Him keep thinking that He's so much better than all the rest of us down here, eh! Yeah, go on and let Him and His little, small band of trouble maker folks just like Him—right behind me over here—go on and let 'em think what they want. I've done more for you than He—or _they_ —ever did, even for themselves. I'm all the 'God' you need. Pray to me! You want someone to pray to? _Pray to me!_ "

...

Michael stood above Jerusalem, quite uninterested in the rally going on over in the distant plains. A huge plume of prayer mushroomed above Jerusalem. Michael began to grin out of one corner of his mouth. "So, that's all it took, huh? You Humans just love to keep us in suspense until the last minute. Just once, it might be nice, just once. But, hey, a late-hour prayer to answer is better than no prayer to answer at all, right..."

The giant, towering Archine Angel held out his censor and took one giant-Angel-sized step right into the center of the plume and swung the censor round his shoulders again and again. It seemed to vacuum up the plume of prayer.

The praying huddle of Humans still smoldered with continued prayer, but once the plume was mostly vacuumed up, Michael changed the swing from horizontal to vertical. "That's a first," he said. "You filled up my censor and you've still got more on the way. I see why the Son chose you. _Promised land_ indeed, flowing with milk and honey and more prayer than this Angel could ask for..."

Michael released the censor, sending it straight up into the torn sky above, leaving a small trail of light visible to the armies on the nearby plain.

...

Something like a shooting star could be seen behind the Liberator on his giant video projectors. It shot _upward_.

"Did you see that?" one soldier said to the other.

"It came from Jerusalem."

"Was that a weapon or something?" another asked.

"An escape pod, maybe."

The Liberator scowled. He never liked anything stealing his limelight, especially if it upstaged him from behind. He had completely missed it. He pivoted his shoulders back and his head upward to see what his distracted soldiers were pointing at...

On the other side of the torn sky, a vast army, a thousand times larger than his own, could be seen on the approaching crystalline plane. The heavenstone halls could still be seen in the distance as the army became more definable, growing larger as it neared. Tsuyoshi, in his wheeled form, hovered above the Son and did not leave his place. He just kept spinning and the crystalline plane just kept drawing closer.

...

The Son did not take his gaze off of Jerusalem. Earth seemed to get bigger on the other side of Tsuyoshi's portal. Without warning, the censor—bellowing with prayer like a dusty comet with a purpose—sailed just above the multitude in the Heaven, through the entrance to the inner court, and smacked into the Altar in front of the Throne. The Altar thundered with an explosion of white light and the crystalline plane of the Heaven filled with fire inside. The brief flash whited out the multitude standing on the plane and lit up Earth below, ten times brighter than the clearest day on a tropical noon's summer solstice.

The Son didn't wait half of a moment, but charged his white horse straight down through the skies, descending toward Jerusalem below. The multitude behind him barreled through the portal, diving into the skies above Earth.

...

The Liberator was furious. Armies from the Heaven swirled above him in the sky. His soldiers squinted and rubbed their eyes in attempt to regain their vision after the flash. When they started to see again, a huge Angel could be seen towering above Jerusalem. They also all saw Azazel standing twenty feet tall at the front of their lines. He held the chain he had been bound with in his prison to the North; a man not far from the Liberator held the other end. He had been released from his prison.

Azazel and Michael were not the only Angels who became visible after the flash. As the armies on the Plains of Armageddon regained their sight, they saw Dark Angels all through their ranks. But, the Liberator could see just fine. Behind his eyes, the serpentine eyes of Tabate glared up toward the Heaven with utter hatred. Azazel, his Human host, and all of the Dark Angels glared up at the sky with him.

Without another word the Liberator slammed his fist down against a box on his hover craft. Immediately, several hundred missile launchers throughout his armies began to re-aim, away from Jerusalem and upward toward the torn sky. As he poked at what seemed like buttons on the box, no less than two hundred missiles launched, each bearing a "nuclear" warning symbol.

From inside the Heaven, the missiles flew from Earth in the distance, homing in on the arches and structures the Cherubim had fashioned nine thousand years ago. Time had not worn them. The Heaven still looked as fresh as when it was first made. Now, those structures were being tested by Men in rebellion. The Angels did nothing.

The Ophannim did nothing.

The Cherubim did nothing.

The Seraphim continued their orbit above the One.

The Archine continued their descent to Earth.

The forces of the Heaven did _nothing_ to stop the missiles from Man.

The first missile zipped past Tsuyoshi, but he did not even seem to notice. Another piled right into him and exploded. Through the portal the missiles came, bursting against walls, against some of the Archine themselves, against arches, even against some of the Cherubim and their tools. The explosions mushroomed, but they seemed like dark clouds. The "flash" from each explosion was only a flash of darkness, not light. Their smoke quickly disappeared, only to reveal that no harm could be evidenced. Not so much as a Seraph's feather or a Cherub's staff had even budged. The Heaven stood in the same condition as though nothing at all had happened.

When he saw that his weapons had not prospered, the Liberator slammed his box again. More missiles ascended, this time in a kind of streaming sequence rather than all at once. Travore approached the portal, also in wheeled form, and spun out a wave, forming a circular screen in the sky above Earth, best described as cloud of lightning and plasma. When the missiles reached the screen they simply vanished. Yet, Humans and Angels from the Heaven continued charging through the screen of plasma from the other side, unaffected by it.

In a fit of rage, the Liberator held high his hand. Smaller missiles and weapons began firing on the Humans as they descended from the Heaven. The missiles hit their bodies, exploding body parts into countless directions. But, even in mid air, their bodies flew back together and reformed, not leaving a trace of harm. Even their clothes given to them from the Heaven pieced themselves back together.

Continuously, the Liberator and his armies bombarded the invading army of the Heaven with homing and anti-aircraft missiles, drones, machine guns, even plasma weapons discharging some kind of light beams and projectiles. But, the army just kept descending and their broken bodies just kept healing.

Nothing could stop the invasion.

The Liberator looked up. Above him he saw the Son descending on his white horse, four billion resurrected Humans behind him on the plane of the Heaven charging as fast as they could down toward Earth, and Tsuyoshi spinning above it all. The Human army of the Heaven continued its descent for hours, swirling above the Liberator's armies that surrounded Canaan.

The Son hovered just inside the portal, glaring down at the Liberator, occasionally "high-fiving" Humans as they passed him from the Heaven. Those with wings flew out above, heading toward the far reaches of Earth. But, some Humans had no wings and simply fell toward the ground until they finally landed, must ineloquently. Hitting the ground with a thud and a bounce, their bodies sprawled out in whatever manner they did. Then, they looked up, their broken limbs instantly healed, and they stood to their feet, unscathed and unsoiled, their bodies still shining with light.

Above Israel and on the ground, Michael towered, standing guard. As the people in Israel, surrounded by enemies, saw the Son descend with his armies, they cheered. They couldn't believe they had missed it. "It's him!? There's no way it can be him! But, it is him. He came! He came for us! After everything, he came for us after all."

With the last of the Heaven's armies through the portal, the Son began his final approach to land. When he looked at Michael, the giant Angel drew his sword and sliced the Mount of Olives. Far and wide, the Liberator and all his armies were shaken by the quake as they saw the Mount split into two with a valley between. Israel fled through the newly created cavern to safety, away from the Liberator and his armies.

The Son touched his horse down at the summit and skidded down the split Mount to stop at the entrance of the cavern. An army of white-clad soldiers marched in formation behind him and the people of Israel who had just fled stood behind them. Atop his horse and with a fierce gaze in his eyes, the Son looked straight toward the Liberator.

The Liberator looked back from his hover craft and didn't move a muscle. The man who stood with him couldn't move either. Neither did Azazel or Tabaet move. All of them were frozen in the sight of the Son.

* * * * *

James's body shined with a light of its own. Jonas walked with him.

"I don't know how many others will want to join you," Jonas said. "I really only speak for myself."

"Do you know where they will go?" James asked.

"I know of one mountain. Deep in a neighboring valley—they planned a place where they could escape to when something like this happened."

...

Word had spread across Earth. The Heaven had invaded. Humans flew with wings, their bodies lighting up the sky, shooting beams of light from their bodies at their enemies. No weapon could stop them. If their bodies were broken or torn apart, they simply came back together. They just kept advancing and no one could stop them.

A group from the Sun-Moon Cult, about ten thousand, had made their way to the foot of a mountain. A huge door now stood before them, a giant vault door. Many warning signs and guide lines on the ground indicated a kind of entrance, guiding people to a waiting area, directing the queue.

As they made their way through the door, flashing lights danced all about, guards in uniform monitored people in the line. There were security checks and bag drops.

Out of nowhere, James and Jonas appeared. They literally flashed out of thin air. James was still glowing.

"Clairvoyant!" an alarm sounded as a buzzer began to repeat. About ten guards went over to Jonas and Jacob, holding them at gunpoint.

"You won't need those," James said as their weapons grew red hot until the guards dropped them, their hands burnt.

"What do you want with us, Clairvoyant?" a voice came from the crowd. A man, their leader—their pontiff—emerged from the crowd. "We're not bothering anyone."

"...for once. All the wars you caused—all the white collar crime, all the seeds you took farmers to court over, the aqua ducts you stole from the people to sell them water they drank freely without you, the dissent between friends, partisan politics you stirred to keep an otherwise unified people at each others' necks, the propaganda you injected into every institution you created, your worship of the Fallen Seraph Mystery..."

"Yes, I get your point."

"No, I don't think you do. You're a slow learner."

James looked at the pontiff, light came from his eyes and disintegrated the man in front of all those who watched.

"You came here to kill us?" another man said.

"So, you're the vice pontiff."

"Yes. Are you going to kill me next?"

"That depends on how much you deny your mischief and brush aside your vital role in the unrest among Earth's people."

"I won't deny it."

"So, why are you here? Why didn't you join Jonas and the others?"

"I see. Jonas betrayed us to join the Clairvoyants. He is one of the many traitors who used to be among us."

"I'm not a Clairvoyant. I simply believed in the Messiah before he landed. My eyes saw and gave light to my body. You had a choice."

"Well, I think you're a Clairvoyant."

"You seem to be almost as slow of a learner as your predecessor." James's eyes began to glow brightly, just as they had before he disintegrated the previous pontiff.

"Okay. Okay. I understand. You're not a Clairvoyant."

"That's better. Remember, your squeamish words won't protect you anymore. So, you need to convince me why I shouldn't burn all of you here and now and rid Earth of your stench."

"We didn't want to hurt anyone," the vice pontiff pleaded. "We simply wanted the kind of power you have."

"You should have listened."

"But, we didn't know the way."

"You thought Human sacrifice was the way?"

"What other way was there?"

"...not performing Human sacrifices, doing justly to all people, don't act like you're above everyone else, don't act like your fellow Humans are cattle for you to burn alive..."

"Yes, you're right. We see now."

"But, you won't repent."

"Give us another chance. Just let us go away in peace."

"We both know that you have other machinations kept behind that door. I can blast off that door and vaporize anything behind it. Do you really think that door will keep you safe from the enemies you worked four thousand years to create?"

"No, we don't. That door keeps us safe, not from you, but from lesser Men. I see that now. We all see that, don't we?" The vice pontiff looked around at the people in the queue, nodding his head in attempt to gain agreement. Others nodded their heads and mumbled in agreement. "See, we agree, no door—no cave can keep us safe from you."

"So, why are you here?"

"Lock us away. This will protect you from us. Once this door seals, we can't open it again. Let the rocks fall on us to keep us to ourselves so that the God of the Heaven will have no need to befell His rightful wrath upon us. We are too foolish to ever serve Him, so let us go mind ourselves."

"You know I have no obligation to grant you anything you request. You were ruthless with all of your enemies and even more ruthless with your friends."

"I know, I only beg you for mercy. We don't deserve it. But, your Lord of Spirits commands that you love mercy. Here is one last chance to give mercy undeserved."

"We gave you mercy all your lives. We always were able to kill you. But, the Messiah commanded us to practice patience with you."

"So, show us mercy once more. I beg you, for all those here."

"—all those who have no change of heart, here."

"We just want to be alone, please!" they cried. "We won't bother you again. Just leave us be!"

James nodded and lightly smiled. The vice pontiff, now acting pontiff, humbly bowed in thanks, then scurried through the door.

"But, turn off that annoying noise," James said. He pointed his finger to one of the alarms that kept buzzing and sounding off, "Clairvoyant!...Clairvoyant!" Light came from his finger, the alarm box group exploded in shrapnel, and the sound stopped.

The rest of the people, seeing the explosion, made double time and scurried through the great door after their vice pontiff.

"Oh, and one more thing, Vice Pontiff..."

"Yes, my lord?" came a voice from the other side of the door.

"You had these laser pistols installed to kill all your guards after you had safely entered. But, you're taking the guards in with you, unless any of them want to leave with me."

"Certainly, my lord."

"Certainly indeed." James looked up at several motorized camera groups mounted near pipes running along the ceiling, then melted them with short light bursts from his eyes.

"But, who will watch the door if they don't?"

"Since you've had this big 'change of heart', I guess you're going to have to find a way to keep your promise to not kill more people by not killing more people."

Most of the guards eyes popped wide. They threw down their hats and knelt on the ground.

"Don't worry. You can lock them safely inside, I'll wait here to take you with me when I leave. But, to all you guards who aren't kneeling, you're going inside with your new pontiff."

"You would sentence us to death for not kneeling to you?" one of the standing guards asked.

"I don't care about kneeling, your new pontiff does. But, when your fellow guards knelt, they did so without thinking. They showed a change of heart without rehearsal. You did not. You serve your pontiff who planned to kill you. You're going inside with him."

There was no more discussion. The Sun-Moon Cult quickly made their way inside, including the guards who went with them. The remaining guards went about shutting and sealing the door. It all took about thirty very awkward minutes, then the door finally closed.

"Over here," Jacob said to the guards. "He's gone. And, never kneel to me again. There is only one you will kneel to and I will kneel beside you."

"But, what about that group of Sun-Moon Cultists? Why did you let them live?" Jonas asked. "I know them. They are evil traitors..."

"They have an important purpose yet in the future. The Messiah still isn't finished with them. And, those of their future family will repent when that door fails and is no longer sufficient to keep them contained. But, for now, we can enter into an era of peace."

James invitingly held out his hands. The guards stood together with him and Jonas in a large group, and then they all vanished, leaving the sealed door all alone.

* * * * *

To the north, beyond the empty prison of Azazel, Gadreel scurried about. There was no place for him in the Heaven. His only remaining worshipers—the Sun-Moon Cult elites—were in hiding. His smaller spirit had fled, waiting to be summoned. But, for Gadreel, there was nowhere he could hide.

So, he set out for the Tree of Knowledge once again. Perhaps its mysteries had been unlocked with the landing of the Son in Canaan and he'd be able to eat and learn.

The Tree of Knowledge had been removed from the face of Earth and was in a secret place where wicked Men could not access it. But, Gadreel knew where it was.

As he drew near to the tree, off in the distance, he saw the Cherub—the same Cherub who had sliced his teeth six thousand years ago. Halted by the same, non-talkative foe, now what would he do?

Then, he heard a voice.

"Ah, there you are. I thought I might find you here. Didn't I tell you not to make a bigger mess of things?"

He looked up toward a small light in the sky. It was Uriel!

The Archine Prince hovered near the small light that floated above Earth. It was like a small moon, glowing hot on one side, dark on the other.

"You can't defeat me! Not now. I haven't yet learned the secret!"

"Armen, there is no secret." The Archine Prince, with a giant chain in his hand, spread his wings and pointed his sword toward the Dragon. He descended, face first, toward Earth. His sword and the flame of his eyes shined brighter and brighter as Earth blazed with Glory and a trail of cloud streamed in his vertical wake through the sky. The Dragon was paralyzed with horror as he watched.

Landing on Earth, Uriel sheathed his sword, seized Gadreel by the tail, and bound him with the chain.

"I don't believe it!" the Dragon hissed. "It's a lie! It's a lie!"

"No, we Holy ones don't lie. You should know that by now, brother." Uriel drew his sword and the horror in Gadreel's eyes turned to dread. Uriel pointed his sword up toward the small light and they lifted off the ground.

"I'll share its power with you..." Gadreel pleaded.

As the Dragon rambled, Uriel began to swing the chain like a giant sling. Round and round he spun the Dragon. When Gadreel fell silent under the speed, Uriel released the chain and the Dragon, chain and all, flew up toward the small light.

"That's it! It's the secret!" With what strength he had, the Dragon flapped his two remaining wings as he bobbed up and down, through the sky, and toward the light, like a moth fluttering into a flame.

Suddenly, there was another light next to the small light. It was Michael!

"He wants to find the secret before I do!" the Dragon squealed in angst. With all his might, Gadreel flapped his wings and sped ever faster toward the small light.

Just when the light seemed near, Michael spoke and the light rotated, becoming dark. It was like a small moon with a light and dark side. And, as the dark side became more visible, the Dragon could see an open vault door on its surface.

"No! You tricked me! You liars, you tricked me!" Gadreel sailed through the open vaultway and Michael kicked the door shut, turned the key in its lock, and threw the key to Uriel.

"Cast it down," Michael said.

"...until it is needed again." Uriel hurtled the key to Earth where it landed, making a small crater.

Through the combined forces of Angels and Humanity, evil, which had been cast out of the Heaven, was finally locked off the surface of Earth.
**Secrets**

Michael spoke and the constellations return to their courses. Abel's prayers were finally answered and the seed of murder was wiped off the face of Earth. Practitioners of the Sun-Moon Cult continued their Human sacrifices as they hid underground, but were not seen or heard from for a thousand years.

The lesser star, where the abandoned fortress of the Fallen Watchers lay in ruin, had long departed and its course would not circle back to Earth for another few millennia. All of the original five Fallen Archine Princes were vanquished or imprisoned, except Gadreel, who was locked away. Only a few Powers and Forces remained from those who had descended on Mount Hermon, six millennia ago. Not finding any place where they were welcome on Earth, they went to the cities of the underworld, where Jerusalem chose not to reach with its mighty hand.

There, the occult, divination, witchcraft, and sorcery continued, though sorcery was their emphasis. In a small world, with walls on every side, above and below, the population was easy to control. So, study of the stars and knowledge of the future weren't needed.

The only Humans to inhabit these cities were evil and had not repented, even when they heard the testimony of the righteous. Some of their former associates repented unto Hope and worshiped the Son, but most of them rejected him. Any righteous Men among them had repented and stayed on the surface of Earth. Only evil Men remained among the elite.

These evil leaders were about ten thousand in all. They seduced some to join them, claiming that their followers were superior to others and that they had been selected for their strengths to survive the world after Armageddon. Actually, that had only been Armageddon I. Armageddon II would not take place for another millennium and it was this Second Armageddon they were plotting at this very time. Their true purpose in bringing these others with them was to keep them as a slave culture inside their caven ghetto to do their chores and be offered as Human sacrifices for their Sun-Moon Cult rituals.

So, the ten thousand elite, and their unwitting slaves, took refuge in the cities of the underworld, which they had prepared at the behest of the Dragon in anticipation of the Son's return. And, it was in those dark, caven cities of their underworld where they plotted and prayed to Fallen Watchers for a way to rebel against the Son and his kingdom on the surface.

High speed rails beneath the ground linked their cities and they build mansions in large caverns, painting ceilings to look like day and night skies. They swam in underground lakes and ate fish with no eyes. Great farms grew plants under ultraviolet lights, so they sustained themselves with nutrition, yet never saw the horizon of Earth nor did they feel the breeze of the sea.

The architecture of their buildings was Georgian Gothic and Victorian. The halls and underground courts and byways where the elite came and went were lined with wood, marble, and gold ornaments and were lit by amber lights. Other passage ways, where the slaves wandered, were simpler or even remained rocky from when the caves were first carved out. The elite prided themselves on luxury and cared nothing for the rest of Humanity, not even their own servant-prisoners who kept them alive.

They commissioned symphonic bands to play rehearsed music, which always aided incantations and spells at every public event. They never hosted artistic performances apart from the occult, unless they were entertaining themselves at morbid parties and perverse gatherings. All forms of art and music were woven into their occult culture, right along with their government. Everything in their underworld, sports, art, industry, agriculture, commerce, administration, government, furniture, stationary, restaurants, candy stores, children's toy shops, and every other reach of their society—all things involved the Sun-Moon Cult.

The ghetto, as it was called, was laid-out with winding streets. Small homes and shops of every kind imaginable crammed on top of each other in a renaissance display of Gothic fashion. The elites encouraged this art to appease their slaves in the beginning, but it was also practical to build towns in this way beneath Earth. Whatever construction materials were left over from the elite mansions were given to the slaves to build their own homes.

There was no zoning or city planning in those towns. So, structures and lean-tos sprawled with a mind of their own, like the walled city of Hong Kong remembered only in legend. Occasionally, buildings collapsed on the people, but the elites sent no help. The ghetto towns had to survive largely on their own. Only the head wizards of the ghetto could talk to the elite. They functioned much like mayors and magistrates and were appointed by the pontiff.

The ghetto was built for the people who had been seduced with flattery, fascination with sorcery, and false fear of Armageddon. They lived lowly lives—free, but limited. Everyone in the underworld was a prisoner because rocks had fallen to block the only way in or out.

People in the ghetto served as slave labor, with a false economy similar to the company store of mining towns of the early 20th century. Before the Son's return, such tyranny birthed labor unions. But, no unions formed in their ghetto because they lived in fear of the surface. So, though the ghetto economies were controlled, they had some level of freedom. For the elites were too lazy to manage their slaves—and _slaves_ were what the people of the ghetto were called.

Some other people, not known to the slaves, were kept in secret prisons and bred in captivity for experiments and Human sacrifices. These laboratories were only known to the highest of the elites. Even the scientists who worked in those laboratories were slaves, though they lived in relative luxury and enjoyed some status.

The top leaders among the elite often assembled to watch Humans burned alive in the secret prisons. Those VIP rituals were most celebrated among the elite. As they were entertained by the suffering of another Human in fire, their spirits charged with a "rush" and they believed they gained power and saw the future. However, in all of this, none of them had the common sense to see the evil of their ways or the doom that awaited them. Their souls were as blind as the fish they ate.

In addition to their murder, they were also an immoral people. Conceiving illegitimate children, they struck lethal blows to the babe in the womb to fulfill their thirst for murder. This, and other methods of Human sacrifice, kept the population controlled and gave Powers of darkness a mighty grip on their underworld.

In those days, a man would say to his friend, "Murder me and gain power." For they had seared their consciences. They could not learn without feeling insulted and they would not teach without condescension. No one was treated equally. Righteousness became a myth and they were more ignorant of the Lord of Spirits's than the people of ancient Babylon.

The elite established no system of clerics because their society was contained and easy to indoctrinate. Still, they had a pontiff and leaders demanded total loyalty from their subordinates, even in lieu of truth and reason. Slaves in the ghetto learned lesser knowledge of the occult than the elites, but, after five centuries, all of the people of the underworld became more powerful through spiritual darkness than the greatest magicians of Egypt and Babylon.

Schools of divination, sorcery, and witchcraft were instituted in the first decade of this underworld. Both in the cities, as well as in these institutions, their leaders were called wizards. Those schools were the first to open their doors to children of slaves. Eventually, the elite cities allowed limited visits, but the slaves came by invitation only; many of the elites purchased crafts and articles of sorcery and tools for divination from artisans in the ghetto.

Parents in the underworld trained their children with lies about the Lord of Spirits. They showed images of the last war upon the face of Earth, from the days when they fled. They even referred to the Lord of Spirits as the Dark Lord, claiming, "See, our world is covered in darkness because of Him!" None of them gave homage to the truth, that the Dragon ordered that the underworld be built and that his deceit made it necessary for them to flee there in the first place. Still, the pontiff and his wizards taught that, one day, the Dragon would return for them, but until that day, they strengthened their dark power and stirred spite against the Son who was seated in Jerusalem.

So, they practiced the sciences of elixir making and sorcery, mostly with wands and staffs. They learned some curses and incantations and magical cures and potions that caused spiritual affliction. But, they gave most of their energies to sorcery because it was more practical for a full-scale invasion—and that was what they were preparing.

Eventually, their clothes aged and loose threads lay everywhere. Corners, hallways, and walls were stained with dust. Wallpaper pealed and canvases of paintings decayed quickly in the moisture beneath Earth. Everything was musty. The only pleasant odors came from incense. As amber lights began to flicker out, candles and oil lamps lit their dingy halls, creating even more soot.

Though the ghetto's decayed first, after seven centuries, even the mansions and elite courts were in disrepair. For—though they had prepared to sustain themselves and their slave-driven industry—without the light of the sun and the currents of the sea and sky, there was no way to replenish the supplies they needed. In their desperation, they feared going to the surface. So, they never discussed departing from the underworld until their digging machines rusted.

In these caven cities of the underworld, the revived feudalist system wedded the occult. Both slave and free were sorcerers. And, there they remained, in darkness, for a thousand years.

* * * * *

Life on Earth's surface had been packed with a thousand years of peace. The Messengers who had believed before the Son descended shined with luminescent bodies, which dimmed to appear normal when they wanted. More importantly, they did not die. These were the Humans who had descended with the Son, numbering about four billion.

Each of them now belonged to one of the _Seven Rings_ , which were different peer groups, each with its own purpose in society. Because they knew to which Ring they belonged, none of them felt out of place; they had all found their own peer groups.

Members of the Rings were granted passage in and out of the great cubed city, which hovered above Jerusalem. Up and down they went, along some kind of elevator in the sky between the city above and Jerusalem below. But, only Angels and the Seven Rings were allowed to enter. The ascent purified them of any disease or contaminate, a process which would have killed mortal Humans.

Humans who had not believed before the Son's landing, but had survived the struggle after the Liberator was defeated, were called _Branchers_ or people of _the Branch_. They had bent the knee to the Son and began a new world. That world _branched out_ and spread peace all through Earth because it was governed by the Son.

Many in the Branch secretly resented not being allowed into the cubed city above Jerusalem. More than that, they objected to the powers that members of the Seven Rings wielded in their immortal bodies. They blamed the Son for "not being fair", even though he let them live after defeating the Liberator. But, not all resented the Son. The Branchers who did held their tongues. There was neither argument nor force that could change their situation.

Life was filled with too much peace and prosperity to become very angry anyhow. There was no Sun or Moon Cult to divide peoples or cause war. No Nephilim spirits wandered Earth to fuel Human rage; the Son had sent all the Nephilim spirit-dragons away. If someone became angry, he soon after became tired and slept. So, rarely did friends have any sort of falling out.

Earth truly was filled with peace among Men, even with the curse of Adam still in their Natural bodies. It's impossible for Humans to rebel during a time of peace without interference from Fallen Angels.

In the wake of the Son's victory, all of the remaining Fallen Angels and evil spirits retreated to the underworld—all except three spirits, who bided their time on the surface. These three had escaped from Azazel, who had come up out of the ground and joined the Liberator from the North, Tabaet, who had come up out of the sea, and Gadreel, the Dragon. They made their escape when they saw that the Son's victory was near.

These three remained next to the key which Uriel had thrown to Earth after locking the Dragon inside the abyss. This was the only key which could release their Prince. They knew that no one could move that key except Uriel, but they didn't want it tampered with. So, they waited by it and watched for a thousand years.

The key sat in a small crater, partially trapped in a rock platform at the center, much how King Arthur's mythical sword had been locked in a stone. For years, the three spirits warded off many intruders, causing people to lose their minds when they approached the key. Finally, _the crater of the key_ , as it was called, was declared off limits and Humanity forgot it existed.

By happenstance, two young men came across the crater of the key, deep in the jungle. They ran out into the center to see what was there.

"What is it?" asked the first.

"Some sort of sword or saw or something. Maybe a key. I've never seen anything like it."

An eerie breeze blew past and the two boys looked at each other. "Did you hear something?" the first one asked.

"You're hearing ghosts."

The breeze blew again. "Maybe I am," the first boy replied.

"Well, I'm not interested," said the second boy as he began to walk back out into the jungle. "Come on."

The breeze blew a third time and the first boy seized the other boy's arm.

"What are you doing?" he mocked, looking back at him. "Let go. And, let's leave this place."

The first boy stared at him with wild eyes. "I don't think so. There's no need to leave."

"Maybe, but there's no need to stay. If this key or sword—or whatever it is—served some purpose, the Son would have known about it. So, that's the end of that."

"Now, I know you're right."

"Yes, so let's get going. We're going to be late for mom's strawberry shortcake."

"No, I mean that you're right about the ghosts."

"Ghosts?"

The first boy still gripped his brother's arm.

"Yes, ghosts. I think they're talking to me."

"Right. And, what are they saying?"

"They are telling me to kill you."

"Now I know you're loopy. I always worried about you as a kid, stealing stuff and all. But, this has me concerned. Quit fooling around."

"Who's fooling around?"

"You are. You seem to be anyways. What's gotten into you? And, why would they tell you to murder your own brother?"

"Because then I'll find out what the key is for."

"As I said, we don't want to find out. Now let's get moving."

"No."

"Yes."

"...I do want to find out."

The two boys struggled and just as the first was overcoming the second, the second boy grabbed a stone and smashed it against the first boy's head, knocking him unconscious.

"Mom's going to be awfully angry about this. I hope he's alright—wait... What was that?"

The breeze returned and started swirling around him. It got much stronger than before. It was almost unnatural.

"What? Maybe he did hear voices."

" _Kill him. That's the secret to the key."_ The strange voice seemed to be carried by the wind.

He looked down at his brother for a moment. A wild look filed his right eye. "You're right. I want to know about the key too. So long, chap!"

He took the same stone and smashed his brother's head again. The boy's body started twitching. He smashed it twice more until it went limp.

"Why do I feel like this has been the first murder in a thousand years?"

" _Because it has been, Alfred. It's been a thousand years."_

He turned and looked to see a spirit, sitting much like a frog, about five feet from him.

"Whoah! You scared me," he said as he fell on his back, staring at the spirit.

Two other spirits appeared next to the first spirit and they began to speak in turn. _"You gave us what we needed to return. We have no power without sacrifice."_

"You mean to tell me that I just sacrificed my brother for you?"

" _Yes, that's exactly what you did, Alfred. But, he did not die in vain. Now, your power will increase. He did you a big favor by letting you kill him."_

"Am I becoming evil?"

" _No, of course not! You're a good boy. You were only curious. Besides, you were attacked for no reason. You killed him in self defense and in search of knowledge. He felt the same way. After all, he wanted to kill you for the same thing. So, he would have been happy with this."_

Then the three spirits dove into Alfred's body and his eyes changed. He never took another at the key, but walked out of the jungle, to a nearby village of Branchers. He forgot his mother's strawberry shortcake and never saw her again.

The body of the dead boy laid in the crater of the key as his spirit grieved. Light from the Heaven began to shine all around. Uriel descended and comforted the spirit of the murdered boy.

"My brother murdered me," the boy's spirit said.

"You were not the first," Uriel replied softly. "But, you were the last. Come, there are two brothers I'd like to introduce you to."

* * * * *

Over the next two years, a new society formed among the Branchers. Alfred had been possessed by the three spirits, which had come from the Dragon and the two Beasts. For seven years, these three spirits dominated Earth, and, now, they had overthrown a young boy's mind.

Alfred began teaching Branchers about caven cities beneath Earth. There, in the underworld, as he called it, all people were free to learn spiritual things and no one was denied magical powers. He slandered the Son and said, "I've seen it in many dreams. Earth was much better off before the Son came and banished those people to live in caven cities. How come He never told us?"

Possessed by the three evil spirits, Alfred instructed the people how to make weapons and showed them blows of death and taught them exercises for fighting and war. After two years, he recruited a small band of miners to dig deep into Earth.

Though he was a boy, he demonstrated knowledge of caverns and guided them to underground tunnels which seemed to have caved in. For months they went about the perilous task of removing the rocks which blocked the way. Several of them died, yet they continued until, at last, they uncovered a large vault door with a combination lock. White headlights from the minders shone little light in the darkness.

"I'm not sure who would know the combination," one of the miners chuckled.

"That comment just cost you your life," Alfred said. He pointed his arm at the man and, as if by magic, an invisible force threw the man back onto the ground.

The other miners ran up to him. "You killed him," one of them shouted. "He's dead!"

As they stood, speechless and indignant over the man's death, Alfred calmly dialed the combination on the giant door and turned the latch with a loud crack. "...and you'll all be dead shortly," Alfred replied at length.

The door inched its way open. The pathway beyond was as dark as the tunnel that led to it.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded, like a deep and deafening alarm clock.

"We've tripped the burglar alarm," one of them said.

"Shut up!" Alfred said as he pointed his arm at the man, killing him in the same way as the one before.

The other miners went silent.

"Maybe we should get out of here," one whispered.

"You're welcome to leave, if you can get away," Alfred grinned with a haunting assurance in his eyes.

"Why did you bring us here? We've unleashed the devil himself! You told us we'd find a life that was much better than what we knew as Branchers. But, I didn't sign up for this."

The alarm continued as Alfred walked through the vault door. At about five steps inside, a blast of light, like a fiery, white sparkler, flew past Alfred's head, leaving a trail of wet lightning. It hit one of the miners, striking him dead.

"That's it. I'm out of here," another said as he turned to run.

The others soon gave chase. More fiery lights whizzed through the vaultway, striking all of them to the caven floor. Small, white arrows of light randomly shined on the walls of the outer tunnel from the headlights of the murdered miners. Alfred remained.

Another blast flew straight at him, but he lifted up his hand and blocked it, as if by an invisible shield.

"Well, well," came a cranky voice from the dark pathway. "The spirits have returned."

No sooner had the voice spoken than the three spirits flew out of Alfred and dove into the man from whom the magical lights came. Alfred collapsed in his place and the sorcerer, who had attacked them from the darkness, ran back the way he came. The alarm continued to sound and Alfred wept.

* * * * *

In the hall of the elite, lined with tarnished, gold gargoyles and marble pillars, the band played and people gathered.

"They have returned!" shouted the pontiff. He wore thick layers of white and red robes, covered with golden embroidering and wore a tall hat of the same design. He stretched out both of his arms, a golden staff in his right hand. "The three spirits found their way and released us from the darkness, just as the prophecy foretold!"

Everyone in the assembly cheered.

"Gather your things and summon the ghetto. Everyone leaves for the surface tonight," he shouted. Then, the pontiff turned to the elite next to him, "Everyone, that is, except our lab rats. We burn all of them before going."

As the assembly disbursed, the pontiff and top elites walked through a narrow hallway, lit by dusty candle stands and crooked paintings. They finally came to a stainless steel door, which opened with the pontiff's thumbprint on a side panel.

Beyond was a clean and bright passage, white, with brushed aluminum. After a few turns, they all gathered into another room.

"Pontiff," one of the scientists said. "We've been analyzing the results of our recent tests and should have..."

"Never mind that now," said the pontiff. "We have some important business. A much larger sacrifice. So, we'll need all the hands you can get. Check to see that the roasters are in working order."

"Why are all these other's here?" the scientist asked.

The pontiff leaned in closely to the scientists ear, "It's probably best that we not ask those questions in their presence, if you know what I mean."

The scientist winked at the pontiff has he called on the PA system, "All hands, report to the roasters."

"You too," said the pontiff. "Make sure you watch to see that all their work is done properly. We're going to finish all of the current specimens."

"All of them?" the scientist asked.

"Yes, all of them; then we're leaving. So, you'll need to do a careful inspection afterwards."

"Leaving? Has the Dragon returned?" the scientist asked.

"We have no time. Never question your master. Remember?"

"Yes, Pontiff," the scientist said as he exited through a side door.

"Well, now, all we need to do is sit back and enjoy the show. Ladies and gentlemen. Please take your seats. This will be the last time we get to enjoy these presentations in the underworld. And, we'll need all the power we can get from it. So, don't take your eye off things for a moment."

Adjacent to the reception area was an auditorium, with comfortable seats arranged like a private theater. A glass wall stood at the front, where the stage would normally be. As they filled the seats, and some found standing room only, a light behind the glass flickered on and a room could be seen on the other side. Several, large gas jets lined the sides, with a vault-like door at the back. The entire room was black with soot and the glass was stained like an oven window door. Scientists entered and began making inspections.

After a few minutes, the scientists wheeled in about fifty cages containing people. They obviously had never taken a bath, their fingernails and toenails were long, their hair was long, they had no clothes, their skin was white—they were barely recognizable as Humans. It was obvious that they had been in these cages their entire lives.

The scientists left through the door at the back and entered the auditorium. As the pontiff and elites took their seats, the head scientist made his way to the front. Sitting in a seat at the edge of the row, he said, "Let it begin." He pressed a button on the arm of his chair and the door at the back of the blackened room closed.

Two seconds later, flames poured out of the gas jets, music played on the speakers, and everyone in the auditorium stared through the glass with the devil's lust for blood in their eyes. The pain and suffering they enjoyed can't be told with words. Many other dreadful things were done by the elite of the underworld, but they did these things on this day because it was most convenient for them and their hasty exit.

When the fire died down, the pontiff turned to the scientist and said, "Okay. We need to be leaving soon, so make sure you get all hands to inspect the chamber. Then pack your things."

The team of scientists filed out of the room, ahead of the others. As the scientists were off working, the elites had refreshments in a side room.

After about an hour, the pontiff excused himself, then returned a few minutes later. "May I have your attention, everyone. We have one more spectacle tonight. Now, if you'll all follow me..." he turned and guided them back into the auditorium. Once they were seated, the lights flickered on behind the glass. All the scientists could be seen in the oven chamber, locked inside. Several of them were pounding on the glass.

"You tricked us," they screamed. "Why do this to us? We worked so hard for you. We made scientific breakthroughs never equaled before our research. We could offer so much more..."

The pontiff listened for a few moments, nodding his head. "That's enough, thank you," the he said through the glass as he held up his hand. "I've taken your thoughts into consideration and made my decision. I don't know how else to thank you for all you've done."

The scientists went quiet as the pontiff sat in the front seat, at the end of the row. He pressed one of the buttons on the arm of the chair, music played, and flames filled the chamber as the crowd watched. "This is a fine sacrifice, if I may say so myself," the pontiff said as shrieks came through the glass. "They had such knowledge and power. Surely we'll all benefit from this."

...

All through the night, the ghetto and the mansions of the underworld bustled with activity. Everyone carried small, old backpacks, printed with the letters LIB SEC SIX.

"Only take minimal food, recipes, wands, staffs, and the like," came a shout. "There's plenty waiting for us up there. Forget your personals. It all ends today."

Merchants pushed carts through the streets, heralding their merchandise, "Get it now if you need it now! No coming back once we go back!"

Finally, the pontiff and the elite emerged, having their own backpacks, staffs, and wands. The band played. The streets filled and the underworld went silent.

"Off we go, to take back what is rightly ours!" the pontiff shouted. Everyone cheered. "If we don't take them, they'll come for us. The Dark Lord who darkened the sky a thousand years ago will rein no longer. Do not be deceived by the fake light in the sky outside these doors. His kingdom is at an end!"

The whole assembly shook their fists and chanted, "Death to the Dark Lord! Death to the Dark Lord!" The pontiff turned and the elite marched out, followed by slaves from the ghetto.

The pontiff was accompanied by the same sorcerer who killed the minors. When they reached the entrance, Alfred sat in the tunnel, having cried himself to sleep. As the mob approached, Alfred awoke and looked up at the pontiff.

"How'd I get here?" he asked. "Can you take me home?"

"Who are you, boy?" The pontiff stared down at him.

As the pontiff spoke, the sorcerer emerged from the crowd and the three spirits flew out of him, into Alfred. The boy stood up and looked at the party. "Never mind," Alfred shouted. "This way! There is a secret army training at my command on the surface."

Led by the boy, the pontiff and all the people of the underworld began the journey through the tunnel, toward the surface of Earth.

* * * * *

It was a peaceful afternoon. Most afternoons were. Humanity hadn't known war for a millennium. The sun lit up Earth from the blue sky, spotted with cotton ball clouds. Birds sand and flags rippled in the gentle wind.

In the distance, a faint chant broke the peace and slowly grew louder. No one knew what it was at first. Then smoke began to rise.

"Is it a riot? Who's doing this?" someone asked on the top floor of one of the office buildings.

"I'm not sure, but we should notify a Pillar." (The term _Pillar_ was used to refer to brethren of the Sixth Ring. First Ring brethren prided themselves with the name _Workers_.)

"Right," said one of the ladies. As she turned, the elevator chimed and the door opened. A man walked off and into the office.

"Need something?" he asked.

"I was just going to look for you," she said. "We seem to have a strange activity on the horizon."

The man, who was a Pillar from the Sixth Ring, stepped up to the window and said, "Oh, dear. It's already beginning."

"What's beginning?" someone asked.

"Armageddon II. Quick, to the House of the Heaven. Drop all your labors. Earth is about to be remade. And, most of all, remember: Love your enemies."

The Pillar then pointed at the glass and the window shattered. He floated out through the broken window and shouted to the streets below, "To the House of the Heaven. Drop your work and love your enemies! Heal the wounded and explain the truth to everyone who contends with you. Earth is being remade, so we don't have much time."

Soon, other Pillars floated above the streets, announcing the same sort of message. People darted in different directions, but mostly toward the center of their city. No one panicked, not even the Branchers.

The Heaven h had a House in each district; all of them were soon filled with people who lifted their song to the Lord of Spirits. But, not everyone went.

Workers of the First Ring formed ranks and began marching toward the burning plains where trouble mounted. They carried no weapons.

_Teachers_ , brethren of the Third Ring, stood at the front lines. Pillars floated above.

The occultist mob, led by those from the underworld, chanted against the Lord of Spirits, accompanied an army made largely of recently-recruited Branchers. Those from the underworld carried wands and staffs while the Branchers touted spears and axes.

A handful of Pillars floated out to the center of the field, where the pontiff stood at the front of his mob. One of them shouted down to the pontiff.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" the Pillar asked.

"Oh, yes," the pontiff said piously. "You can DIE!" The pontiff pointed his golden staff and a bolt of wet lightning shot out and upward toward the Pillar.

An invisible bubble around the Pillar seemed to absorb the blast of the lightning from the pontiff's staff. "I may have to disappoint you, then. Though, that's not my intention. But, you see, it's just not within my capabilities of dying."

"That was quite a trick you have," the pontiff said.

"It's no trick, I assure you. Where are you trying to go? Perhaps you've lost your way."

"I haven't, actually. We're here to destroy your civilization and sack your Dark Lord in Jerusalem."

"We don't serve a Dark Lord. We serve the Lord of Spirits. You may have us confused with someone else. I must ask you to surrender your staff. If you go home quietly, no harm shall come to you. But, I strongly advise against your ambitions. Pursuing the Lord of Spirits can only succeed when done in surrender. And, it sounds like you want Him to surrender to you."

"You're blowing smoke and we're sick of your lies!" The pontiff turned and faced the mob behind him. "Brothers and sisters, there are armies of valiant soldiers, just like us, in countless cities across the world. They march as we speak. This man has been duped by the Dark Lord. As long as we don't give into his propaganda, we can't lose."

"Sorry to interrupt, but you _will_ lose, if you continue."

"The Dark Lord has no right to Earth unless all people worship Him."

"Not true, if you refer to the Lord of Spirits. But, that can be arranged anyway, if you continue. So, I'll tell you once more: Go home and no harm shall come to you."

"NEVER!" the pontiff shouted. "We've lived in bondage for a thousand years and we aren't about to go back now."

"So be it."

The mob hissed and jeered. The pontiff raised his staff and all the people charged.

The Pillars hovered in place, keeping their posts in the sky as the mob moved beneath them.

Not long after, the ranks formed by the Workers and Teachers met the mob at the edge of the city. Wands waived and sparks flew. Staffs shot forth wet lightning, but the Workers and Teachers stood their ground.

As the occult mob launched their spiritual attacks, the Teachers held out their hands and small vortexes appeared. The vortexes sucked in the spiritual bolts of wet lightning, as if vacuumed into a microscopic hole. When sorcery failed, rebels from the Branch, carrying their weapons, emerged from behind the occult leaders and attacked the Workers, who were still lined up in their ranks.

Spears and axes sliced at the bodies of the Workers, but they stood still. When the army of Branchers had thoroughly penetrated the front line, they abruptly halted. Wounds from the Workers' bodies miraculously healed without scars, all within about five seconds of the wound.

"What are you waiting for? Attack!" one of the sorcerers shouted at the Branch army. The fighting continued, but the Workers and Teachers wouldn't harm any of their assailants.

Lightning leaped. Spears flew. Bodies were marred and healed instantly. The only injuries landed from friendly fire on the occult mob and the Branch rebels with them. Their attacks were useless and only made themselves weak.

After about four hours of fighting, some of the Pillars shouted down toward the Branch rebels. "You don't have to do this. The Lord of Spirits will forgive you if you set down your weapons and repent. Hope awaits you."

"We don't want Hope," one of them screamed. "You wouldn't give us your power for a thousand years!"

"No. The power was already offered to you, but you had to receive it first. The Lord of Spirits's gift is still available to you. Don't throw away your lives. Don't choose darkness when you've known the light."

As the Pillars reasoned with the Branchers on the battle field, some of them began to repent unto Hope and threw down their weapons. One man said those around him, "They are right. We've lost so much today. Our rebellion is in vain. And, we only missed out on what we chose to."

"It's all nonsense," another retorted. "'You must receive to have!?' so he says? That should be obvious. He's just trying to trick you into being his minion." The man launched his spear up at the Pillar, but, as it touched the invisible shield that seemed to circle all around him, that part of the spear melted into gold dust and fell to the ground.

So, the Branchers began quarreling among themselves until things grew hostile. Disorder spread through the mob. Those who repented were badly wounded. At last, one of the Pillars dropped from the air and landed in the center of one of their larger brawls. As he did, a shockwave ripped through the crowd and send everyone tumbling.

"Stand down," the Pillar said. "You weren't created for war." He stretched out his arms and light erupted from his heart, rippling through the air like water when a stone splashes into a pond. When the light passed the Branchers, those who had repented were instantly healed of their wounds, just as the Workers had been.

"This is madness!" one of the shouted. "He's just trying to bribe us into compliance."

"No!" shouted others. "We rebelled and got what we deserved. But, he healed us anyways."

Some of the Branch rebels grabbed their weapons in rage and stormed toward the city. But, those who had been healed knelt on the plain at the feet of the Pillar.

"All these years we believed that the Lord of Spirits had seduced you—that He really didn't love you. He only gave you power so that you could praise Him. But, now we see that He loved you all this time. And so, we can't help but love Him back."

Though they had walked Earth among the seven Rings for centuries, these Branchers had never understood the heart of the Lord of Spirits. But, during the first battle of the Second Armageddon, they knelt in the plains where the Lord of Spirits healed them and, for the first time, they called on His name.

The rest of that afternoon and into the evening, lights flashed, blood flew, bodies regenerated, and people debated.

When it became obvious that the battle wasn't going as the pontiff had planned, he and the occultists of the underworld searched out other Branchers who had not yet joined their rebel army.

_Singers_ , of the Fifth Ring, felt pain in their spirits and called on the Lord of Spirits for safety. Lights shot up from Houses of the Heaven all across the cities as they were invaded. Everywhere, inverted tornadoes of light reached from Houses of the Heaven and climbed up toward the sky.

_Artisans_ , of the Second Ring, scattered throughout the city and gave refuge to Branchers who fled the conflict. They crouched with the helpless in street corners and welcomed them into their homes. As they lifted their hands to the sky, large shields spread around them. Spiritual attacks were deflected, weapons turned to gold dust, and attackers were thrown back if they tried to penetrate the shields.

_Governors_ , of the Fourth Ring, had already gone to the places where Branchers lived. When sorcerers entered the common streets with their mobs, the Governors cut them off.

* * * * *

The Branchers lived in peaceful neighborhoods, slightly removed, but not too far, from the busyness of city centers. On one quiet street in particular, lined with trees and wide, redbrick sidewalks, the sun stood at mid afternoon in a pure blue sky. Birds chirped as an approaching mob halted. A single Governor blocked their way.

"I admit, there may be some here who would join you," the Governor said. He stood profile to the mob, his fedora hat over his eyes as he looked toward the ground. "But, even if you do draw them to your side, you'll only get each other killed. So, please, go home and lead quiet lives. No one is required to worship the Lord of Spirits, but He won't let you require anyone else to worship the Dragon."

"Shut your mouth, pagan!" shouted the wizard leading them, aiming his wand.

Sparks, trailed by wet lightning, flew at the Governor and were deflected in the same kind of invisible shield that appeared around the Pillars above the plains outside the city.

"We never assaulted you outside the city. But, I'm the Governor of this Branch, which means that I'm here to protect them, even if they don't praise the Lord of Spirits. You may not harm them today, and if you try, then I have authority to sort you."

" _Sort?_ What's that supposed to mean?"

"Best not to find out. Leave well enough alone and go home. We won't pursue you if you truly want to live in peace, even without praising the Lord of Spirits."

"You talk as if we did something wrong in our caves below Earth. We did nothing evil! We harmed no one. Justice flourished there and we were happy."

"Then why bother to come up here and cause trouble?"

"We came in peace."

"Hmmm. Your form of _peace_ seems very different from ours." The Governor had not moved. He continued to look at the ground, even as he spoke to the wizard on his right.

The wizard and his sorcerers fretted with anger and even began to bark and scream. When their rage reached its peak, they charged after the Governor, who still hadn't moved from his profile stance.

As they drew close, the Governor looked out of the corner of his eye and spread out his right arm toward the approaching mob. A slow ripple passed through the air from his hand. About half of them stopped in their tracks. As the others continued their advance, the ripple collided with them. Their bodies vaporized and their garments were shredded. But, the ripple passed through those who had stopped, without harm.

"Why didn't it harm us?" one of them asked.

"Because you repented when you saw it coming."

"Why were we able to repent, now, after all the evil we've done?"

"No amount of wickedness is greater than the forgiveness of the Son."

"But, we murdered so many people beneath Earth. We performed many Human sacrifices and did unspeakable things. We studied the deep secrets of the Accusers without end. How could you make us stand still, yet make them vanish? And, how can you say that we are forgivable?"

"You may have studied deep spiritual power, but you never studied the deepest. He is the _Lord of Spirits_. His Spirit searches and sorts all souls. The Son was the perfect Human Sacrifice and offers forgiveness to all. But, an attack against His Spirit cannot be forgiven. He suffered more than all of your sins deserve. So, the recompense has been made. And, even without knowing it, you accepted His forgiveness when you stopped."

So, there, the most powerful sorcerers in all history knelt and called on the name of the Lord of Spirits.

* * * * *

Similar battles convened in nearby cities, but the enemy could not touch the Houses of the Heaven because, there, Singers of the Fifth Ring called on the Lord of Spirits for protection. Some Branchers rebelled out to join the occult, while many of the sorcerers repented. The Governors of that region sorted all the people from the underworld that afternoon—all except the pontiff. They either repented or vaporized in their attempts to kill the Governors of the Fourth Ring. Finally, the pontiff went to one of the local Governors' office to make his case.

"We recruited new followers from your people while many of our own people went over to your side. Touché. Now, we only request an asylum."

"You had an asylum before," the Governor said.

"But, the halls of the underworld are in disrepair. We can't go back. Though we regret having caused a disturbance, we need help."

"What might we do for you?" the Governor asked.

"Release the Dragon. Surely he has learned his lesson, as have we. With his knowledge of the stars, he can lead us to another world where we will bother you no longer."

"Not that I believe you for one moment... But, even if I had wisdom to make a decision about these things, I wouldn't have the authority. Your case must be taken up in Jerusalem."

Just then, one of the Pillars in the room spoke up. "The Lord of Spirits would grant this request. The Dragon was never meant to stay where he is. It was for a time such as this that he has been under lock. So, it's likely that the Lord of Spirits is already having him released at this moment. Let's wait."

"Nonsense!" the pontiff shouted at the Pillar. "You only want to bide your time."

"I don't know why I would need to," the Pillar said. "But, if we ever did need to bide our time, we'd hardly need an excuse to do it. Have patience. You waited a thousand years. I'm sure you can wait a few more moments."

"A few moments?" the pontiff sneered.

As he spoke, the door opened and another Pillar entered the Governor's hearing chamber. "An Angel named Uriel is waiting outside," the newly arrived Pillar said. "He has a large serpent with him, bound in a chain. It looks like it should have six wings, but it only has two. Uriel tells me that someone inside wants to see it."

"Well, I suppose it was only one moment, not a few," the first Pillar said as he smiled at the pontiff. "Shall we have a look, Governor?"

"It seems the thing to do," the Governor said.

Everyone in the room, including the pontiff, now quite disquieted, filed out of the chamber, after the Governor. Sure enough, there stood Phanuel and Uriel, holding Gadreel in chains.

"The Lord of Spirits ordered his release this morning. He told me to bring him here. Apparently there's someone who wants to meet him."

"Yes, there is," came a young voice. It was Alfred. No sooner had he stepped out from behind a nearby tree than the three spirits exited from his chest and hopped, in a frog-like fashion, into the Dragon's open mouth."

"You seem to have your spirits back," chuckled Phanuel.

Gadreel scoffed as Uriel released his chains. Then he stormed off with the pontiff.

"Where are they going?" one of the Branchers asked.

"To make more mischief," Uriel said. "It's a pity, really. But, what can you do? Choices are choices."

Alfred sat on the ground, his face covered with tears. "What have I done?" He said. "I killed my brother and opened the tunnel that brought them here..."

One of the Pillars sat down beside him and explained the forgiveness of the Lord of Spirits and repentance unto Hope. "But, you haven't caused anything terrible. Those are powerful spirits that possessed you. So, while you saw the sting of evil, and while it's important to refrain from sinning against your fellow Man, remember that many came to know the Lord of Spirits today. And, there were no wounds that He was not willing to heal, for those who simply called on His name."

"What about my brother? He's not here to call on the Lord of Spirits's name."

"There are many questions and we don't know all the answers. But, the Lord of Spirits does. He'll show us soon enough. Be patient."

* * * * *

The Dragon and the pontiff went throughout Earth, performing spiritual wonders and seducing the people along the way. Many similar battles ensued. Together they went everywhere they could. Branchers either repented unto Hope at the feet of the Pillars or joined the Dragon.

Across Earth, Houses of the Heaven lifted their prayer and inverted tornadoes of light shot up toward the sky. The Son, now Lord on Earth, called His court and said, "It's time to set up camp. Off to the field of Armageddon."

"But, why go?" asked one of the brethren in His court.

The Lord smiled at him, "If we don't go, they won't gather. Come on. To the field..."

"I suppose you have a point there," he replied. So, off they went and set up camp in the center of the field of Armageddon. Then they prayed.

After three days of prayer, an army from the many nations gathered around the Lord's camp. The righteous Humans, both of the Rings and of the Branch, remained in their cities as rebels came out from every corner of Earth. They carried spears and axes and various farming tools. These were their only weapons, since Earth had not known war for a millennium. All wickedness in Humanity had gathered to the same place, the pontiff leading them with his golden staff in hand.

Abruptly in the distance, bodies lifted up into the air from all around. Points of light filled the sky like stars in the day. The Lord's court glared in awe.

"What are those?" someone asked.

"It's the Seventh Ring!" a Pillar said. " _The_ _Children!_ They finally cared! They actually care about something and now they are taking action!"

"Well, we're through here," said the Lord. "That was the last task of Human history. It's time to remake Earth and sky." Everyone who was with the Lord in His camp vanished.

The _Children_ , of the Seventh Ring, appeared in the skies all across Earth and flew toward the great, floating, cubed city above Jerusalem. Once all of them had entered the cubed city, a few moments passed, then the base of the city glowed, brighter and brighter until it blinded all those who stood beneath it.

In a display of power far beyond anything released from the sorcerers or even the pontiff himself, a massive funnel of fire and lightning came from the cubed city and the entire region, along with the last evil army ever to walk Earth, was consumed.

The Dragon was nowhere to be found.

* * * * *

Gadreel slithered around, through the jungle. "With them occupied, I can find the secret," He thought to himself. He came to the path which lead to the Tree of Knowledge, but the Cherub who guarded it was gone. So, he went into the garden and found Michael sitting under the tree.

"I thought I'd find you here," Michael said.

"Why are you here?" the Dragon snapped as he entered the garden.

"I should be asking you that question."

"Maybe you told them they were naked!"

"Your armies have been annihilated. You are the only covetous one left on the planet. Yet, here you are. Looking for knowledge?"

"You can't hide the secret forever. I'll find out how to overthrow the Lord of Spirits?"

"There isn't a way. There is no secret to hide or uncover."

"Oh, yes there is. It's in the Star of Fire. Tell me how to get there!"

"I assure you, there's no secret in the Star of Fire."

"If you won't put the knowledge to use, then I'll uproot this worthless tree!" With that, Gadreel scurried over to the Tree of Knowledge from which Adam had eaten seven thousand years before. He tugged and pulled.

Michael asked with one eyebrow raised and his head cocked, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Why would you care?"

"Just a hunch."

Finally, the Dragon yanked the tree out of the soil. Earth shook. The sky turned red. And, all the mountains began to melt.

"Now ya dunnit." Michael said. "That's my exit." He spread his wings and flew away.

High above, in the distance, Tsuyoshi appeared beyond a new forming portal in the sky. Something started to lift down through the portal, like a giant Throne.

The ground split up and broke apart beneath the Dragon's feet. The land began to sink. Mountains of the hidden valley were gone and a great Throne, white and never seen before in the Heaven, came down to Earth and positioned itself among a small range of mountains that remained.

Uriel descended and trapped the Dragon under his left foot. Though the Lord of Spirits named him Armen and he changed his name to Gadreel, and though he went by many other names, he was always known to Angels and the children of righteous Men as _the Dragon_.

Apart from the range at the Throne, every mountain was removed and every valley raised. Earth became a vast plain and all the living and all the dead, Human and Angel, appeared before the Great Throne. The Lord of Spirits, splendid and enormous, as only seen in the Heaven until that day, sat on the white Throne and the books were opened and the Son came forward.

"Every permutation of living condition between good and evil was tested, and evil proved itself to be terrible and destructive every time." The Son looked out at the exhaustive assembly of Humans and Dark Angels.

Then another book was opened, presented by the Ophannim—the Book of Life, bearing a seal which only the Ophannim could craft, recording names in an Index which only the Ophannim could write.

Gadreel protested. "Why? If I knew these names were written, I wouldn't have rebelled!"

"But Armen," the Son said. "You rebelled long before the Book of Life was written. In fact, were it not for your rebellion, recording the names would not have been necessary. None of the Angels knew it had been authored by the Ophannim, yet the Separate did not rebel."

Raguel spoke up, "I warned Armen not to condemn himself. But, rather than thinking of wisdom, or even self-preservation, he always assumed that the Lord of Spirits was hiding something."

Phanuel spoke. "Had Armen known who the righteous Human souls were, he might have feigned honesty and pretended to give justice. Then, his wickedness would have lasted more than ten thousand years, which would have been a great injustice. So, the Lord of Spirits kept His foreknowledge hidden.

"The Lord of Spirits had no obligation to put the fate of innocent souls at the mercy of the Dragon. Armen's destructive history was not a reason for the Lord of Spirits to reveal more—it was a reason for the Lord of Spirits to keep more things hidden from Humans and Angels alike.

"The Star of Fire—or the Lake of Fire as it was known among Humanity—had been made for the Dragon from the Beginning. The Dragon would only be able to go there if he truly wanted to. And, so he did, and so he will." Phanuel returned to his quiet stance.

Then, the proceedings commenced. All Humanity and all Angels were judged according to what was written in the books of their history. And, when the Son's Book of Life was read, the Son of Man shined and all the children of Men cried and their tears revealed the thoughts of their souls.

The covetous Humans cried tears of rage against their brethren. Those who were pure in heart mourned the selfish choices of their brethren. For after this day they would never see each other again.

During their time on Earth, their experiences had challenged and changed them so that all of those who did not shed tears of jealously before Earth was made no longer shed tears of jealousy on this day. None of those with tears of jealousy were found among the names which the Ophannim had written in the Book of Life before the foundation of Earth. And, all those whose tears reflected the light, without selfishness or greed, found their names written in the Book of Life.

No one among Humanity defended the Dragon or the Fallen Angels who deceived them, not even the evil Humans whose souls coveted the light. So, the records of the Book of Life matched the testimony of the tears of the children of Men that day and everyone testified against the Dark Angels.

In one last act of defiance, those with darkened tears rose to their feet, half of them Dark Angels, half of them Dark Humans. By this time, it was impossible to tell any difference.

As they rose, Tsuyoshi opened a portal behind the great assembly, opposite the Great Throne. Rather than perpendicular, this portal was forty-five degrees to the plains on which the condemned multitude stood. It angled above them so that they could look up and see through. The Star of Fire burned on the other side of the portal, showing the Heaven orbiting high above on the other side.

Through the portal descended seven Cherubim. The Son greeted them and said, "You have been released from your prison of judgment because the Eternal Judgment you chose to await has come."

Then, the Son went over and grabbed the Dragon by the tail and whipped him through the portal, to the Star of Fire, where Tabaet, Azazel, the Liberator, and another voice could be heard, still screaming in horror and torment after a thousand years.

The mass of condemned Humans and Angels could not accept what they saw. Condemned souls were being released from judgment after ten thousand years? How was this just and fair that the One on the Great Throne would eternally judge them when He had released the seven Cherubim?

Up through the portal, the Dark, condemned multitude gazed on the Star of Fire in fear. Prominences hovered and tongues of fire leaped from its surface. The multitude was enraged. "You think this is our fate!?" one of them shouted. "You think this will make us believe You?"

The One, seated on the Great Throne, sat silent and without motion. The portal grew wider until it touched the floor at the back of the court.

The condemned multitude began to shout again. "This is not justice. We hadn't known this. You never showed us this in the beginning."

Still, the One neither moved nor spoke.

The condemned multitude, at least ninety billion strong, fell silent. Then, one of them turned to another and said, "He thinks we won't do it! This was never our judgment. He never actually planned to do this. He thinks we won't do it! His secret is in that Star! What if the Dragon has indeed uncovered His secret? The Son wants to scare us into staying and obeying Him!"

The Dark multitude shouted more and more, "He thinks we won't do it!", first as a murmur until a chant arose, "He sits, He looks, He thinks we won't! He sits, He looks, He thinks we won't!"

After a few moments, some of those closest to the portal dashed into a dead-bolt run, diving into the burning Star of Fire on the other side, falling upward as they entered. "Go in! Go in!" more and more began shouting until the Dark multitude of twenty billion had taken into a full stampede, right through the portal and into the Star of Fire, like a pack of lemmings running over an upside-down cliff.

Everyone of them—all of them whose names were not in the Book of Life—had thrown themselves into the Star of Fire. None were left. The portal closed. The Darkened beings of the Heaven were completely gone and all who remained shined with brighter light than the Heaven had ever seen, even from the Ophannim.

Then, the One on the Great Throne said, "See! I make all things new."

The remaining multitude rose up into the Heaven and the Heaven was changed. Earth below them faded away and there arose a new Earth, seen from every side of the Heaven, both above and below, like a concave world. It had no stars and no sun, but was filled with light from the Heaven and grew even brighter as Humans and Angels descended together.

As for the Humans, their eyes gave no more tears, for there was no further hidden testimony to express.

###
**Conclusion**

If you want to know how the faceoff ends between the Son and the Liberator, you'll need to read the follow-up series based on this book. At the time of publishing, I haven't decided on a name for the series, but it will probably be a long collection of short books, about five thousand words each.

As an afterward spoiler, you gain "reader coolness points" for asking whether the portals Tsuyoshi opens connect different points in space or whether they bridge a process that transubstantiates the physical state between separate states of existence. To illustrate, the portal may be more of a network connection between one virtual reality and another, not so much a "tesseract" between different points in the same universe of space and time. It might also be compared to a printer, scanner, or an algorithm that converts a computer file from one format to another, such as from .doc to .odt. But, I still have not answered that question, only pointed out that you can claim coolness points if you already asked.

I've put a lot of thought into this. I am mildly familiar with various metaphysical views of both cosmology and the soul. The theory used in this novel was explained more elaborately in _The Four Planes_.

Beyond metaphysical questions, I took into account both the events of the Bible and the teaching of the Bible. I included the "lesser start" as possibly Nibiru, though I tried to remain vague about time so as to avoid too much historic conflict of events. My goal was to author a solid fiction about angels with high believability, through both consideration and strategic vagueness, that would not offend the understanding of readers well-versed in various disciplines, from history to astronomy to quantum theories to cosmology to Biblical theology and possibly others. Even if some readers disagree with a theory demonstrated in this book, they might at least recognize it or understand it as an alternate view to their own.

The names of angels were largely based on the Book of Enoch (AKA 1 Enoch). I drew little more from that book, except some of the perspective that "Heaven" has of Earth and the universe as Enoch saw them. I drew on Enoch for no further truth or belief other than setting and creative inspiration for names. The names were also carefully considered for consistency with whom Enoch describes having done what.

In my own words, I hold to the belief that the Book of Enoch is "the oldest archeological truth to provide context for more accurately understanding the Bible". I do not hold to the belief that it is "canon" because the Book of Enoch claims itself to only be "for a remote generation, which is fore to come"; 2 Timothy 3:16-17 defines Scripture as for being thoroughly equipped for every good work and [every] person of God (taking the definite article as universal). Enoch's writing is not for all people and all time. It is not Scripture, but it is still truth and therefore it is still God's truth. And, its ancient truth provides context through which we can understand Scripture as well as understand the human authors of Scripture who read and studied the Book of Enoch.

Thomas Aquinas was once asked what God was doing before He made Earth. His answer was that, "He was making Hell for curious souls." What we know of God for certain comes from Scripture. As Dr. Gregg Quiggle said in class, "Everything else is at worst superfluous and at best gravy. No one ever starved without gravy."

This story is about angels and their relation to humanity. The purpose of this story is to provide a "Biblical context" of "how it might have happened Biblically". God was, indeed, doing things before He made Earth. He made the angels in a way and in a time. Their creation has a story of its own.

There could be much speculation to argue that the story of how God created angels and what He was doing before He created Earth proves that He is not who Scripture claims He is. This story, however, is a fiction of what kinds of things God and His holy angels might have been doing in that time which agrees with Scripture.

This is a story of how things did not happen. How they actually happened agreed with Scripture much more. The actual events were much more grand and splendid. The wickedness was much more heinous and contemptible. And, the facts were much more persuasive that the compassionate and powerful God who has revealed Himself throughout Scripture is all the more exactly who He has always claimed to be from even before the Beginning.
About the Author

Jesse Steele is an American writer in Asia who wears many hats. He learned piano as a kid, studied Bible in college, and currently does podcasting, web contenting, cloud control, and brand design. He likes golf, water, speed, music, kung fu, art, and stories.

Jesse owns various brands, occasionally teaches writing and piano, and preaches the evangels of Linux, Open-Source, and Jesus.

Today's news, yesterday.™

Email:  books@jessesteele.com

JesseSteele.com

Other Books by Jesse Steele

Mere Theology

Bapticost: At the Crossroads (Act I)

Churchianity: At the Crossroads (Act II)

The People's Party: A Blueprint for American Political Revival

Clergy Don't Shepherd: God 101

Game On: A Christian Strategy Guide for Noobs

The Four Planes

Monkeys in the Jungle: Why Some Trees Just Won't Grow

The End: A Bible Translation of John's Revelation
