Page 40 of Uriel
The Horsemen and Lucifer are already squared off, power crackling around them like barely contained lightning. As I approach, all eyes turn to me.
“Well, Archangel,” War growls, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’ve brought us to your little playground. Now what?”
I straighten to my full height, allowing my power to flow freely. Here, unbound by the constraints of the mortal realm, I am closer to my true self than I’ve been in millennia. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Now,” I say, my voice resonating with divine authority, “we negotiate.”
Famine lets out a dry chuckle, the sound like rustling autumn leaves. “Negotiate? The time for negotiation is long past, Archangel. The seals are breaking. The end times are upon us.”
“Perhaps,” I concede. “But the manner and timing of that end are still in question. And I, for one, am not content to stand idly by while you tear apart the world my Father created.”
Pestilence steps forward, green mist swirling around him. “And what gives you the right to interfere? You, who have hidden away in your ivory tower for millennia, playing at being human?”
The accusation stings more than I care to admit. But before I can respond, Lucifer interjects.
“Oh please,” he drawls, examining his nails with feigned disinterest. “As if you four haven’t been just as absent. When was the last time any of you actually did your jobs? War, darling, there have been how many conflicts in the last century that you didn’t even bother to show up for?”
War snarls, taking a menacing step towards Lucifer. “Watch your tongue, Morningstar. You may rule Hell, but you have no power over us.”
“No?” Lucifer’s smile is all teeth. “Then why, pray tell, are you so eager to usurp my position? Feeling a bit... irrelevant, are we?”
The tension in the air ratchets up another notch, power crackling between the assembled beings like lightning. I can feel the fabric of this pocket dimension straining under the weight of so much concentrated cosmic force.
“Enough!” I command, my voice cutting through the growing chaos. “This posturing serves no one. We are here to find a solution, not to measure the size of our celestialappendages.”
There’s a moment of stunned silence, then Lucifer bursts out laughing. “Well, well,” he chuckles. “The Archangel of Chastity knows how to talk dirty. Will wonders never cease?”
I feel heat rise to my cheeks, but I push on. “The fact remains, the apocalypse cannot be allowed to proceed as planned. The casualties would be catastrophic, not just for humanity, but for all realms.”
“That’s rather the point, isn’t it?” Death interjects, his voice soft but carrying easily across the plain. “The end of all things. The Great Leveler.”
I turn to face Death, meeting those fathomless black eyes that have seen the end of countless lives. “Is it, though? Is that truly what you desire? The end of everything?”
Death is silent for a long moment, his gaze boring into me. When he finally speaks, his voice is thoughtful. “Desire has little to do with it, Archangel. We are what we are. We do what we must.”
“Butmustyou?” I press, sensing a crack in the Horsemen’s united front. “You are beings of immense power and wisdom. Surely you can see that triggering the apocalypse now would be... premature.”
Famine tilts his head, curiosity glinting in his sunken eyes. “Premature? How so?”
I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “Look at humanity. At how far they’ve come, how much they’ve achieved. And yet, how much potential remains untapped. Would it not be more... satisfying to see that potential fulfilled before bringing about the end?”
Pestilence scoffs, green mist swirling agitatedly around him. “Humans. They’re a plague upon the earth. Why should we care about their potential?”
“Because,” Lucifer interjects, surprising me with his support, “they’re endlessly entertaining. Always coming up with new ways to sin, new vices to indulge in. I, for one, am not ready to give up my favorite playthings.”
War growls, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough of this prattle. We came here to fight, not to debate philosophy.”
“Did we?” I challenge, turning to face him directly. “Or did we come here to determine the fate of all creation? Because if it’s the latter, I suggest we approach it with the gravity it deserves.”
For a moment, I think War might attack me outright. His form flickers, showing glimpses of his true, terrifying visage. But then, unexpectedly, he laughs.
“You’ve grown a spine, Uriel,” he says, a hint of grudging respect in his tone. “Very well. Let’s hear your proposal.”
I blink, momentarily thrown by this sudden acquiescence. But I recover quickly, seizing the opportunity. “A stay of execution,” I say. “Give humanity more time. A century, perhaps. Let them continue to grow, to evolve. And in return...”
I hesitate, knowing that what I’m about to offer goes against everything I’ve stood for. But the stakes are too high for half measures.
“In return,” I continue, my voice steady despite my inner turmoil, “I will step down as the Archangel of Chastity. I will walk among humanity, not as an observer, but as a participant. I will know love, and loss, and all the messy, wonderful, terrible things that make the human experience unique.”
