Date: Fri, 07 Oct 2005 01:37:53 +0000
From: Jason Parker <archangelmatthew72@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Angel: Chapter 27

Author's Note: Sorry this one took so long again. I had a lot of trouble
writing this chapter for some reason, and I'm still not totally happy with
it at all. But all the same, here you go. Oh, and before I forget. If you
e-mail me saying so, I will add you to a mailing list for The Angel, and I
can alert you as soon as I post a new chapter.

Disclaimer: Another chapter dealing with religious aspects some people
might find offensive/blasphemous/sinful. Be wary. Also, this month is Bear
Danger Awareness Month. Be careful of danger!

* * *
'Azreal Returned'


	Fiona had welcomed the return of her parents from their anniversary
vacation.  While under normal circumstances, she could only stand so much
of her parents, after Miriam's invasion of her house, she was somewhat
loathe to be left alone. Of course, she'd told them nothing about the
incident. How could she explain something like that? She reminded herself
as she walked, that it was Christmas, and she should be spending it with
her family. However, her parents were beginning to become more of an effort
to deal with than she could stand. The Christmas Eve shopping trip had
eventually dissolved into a row over spending and a tense car ride
home. Miriam or no Miriam, she had to get out. Anyway, she wanted to see
Jason again and find out how it had worked out with that Matthew fellow. He
had a strange way about him, you couldn't deny it, but he *was*
attractive. Jason had always drawn the attention of the more attractive
crowd, even back in high-school. Whether he'd known it or not, he had half
of his class lusting after him-- and not just the girls either. Lucky
Bastard.
	She found the wrought iron gate standing wide open. Unusual, since
their security guard Paul was fairly obsessive compulsive about making sure
it was closed properly. She looked to his gate house booth, and remembered
that of course, the Parker's always gave him Christmas and the following
few days off-- whether he wanted it or not.
	Her next shock was the gleaming fountain in the circular
driveway. She marveled at the androgynous figures, and at how the Parker's
always seemed to have the best of tastes. She rang the doorbell and then
stepped to the side of the door, prepared to surprise Jason when he opened
it. When the thrill of her intended surprise eventually wore off, she
stepped back in front of the door and tried the bell again. No answer. She
tried the brass knocker, in case the bell wasn't working and waited for the
sound of steps in the hall. The house was silent. eerily silent. Their car
was still there...
	Later, if asked, Fiona would have said that she couldn't explain
it, but something just felt wrong. That was why she found herself trudging
through the snow at the side of the house to reach the back door into the
kitchen. Her careful pace turned to a mad run as she heard a scream and
rounded the corner to find Mrs. Parker kneeling over a boy, lying in the
snow. There were shards of broken glass all around, and the french windows
looked like someone had been thrown through it. Her heart lurched in her
chest when she saw the boy. 'Please not Jason!' she prayed silently. At the
sound of her boots crunching in the snow, Elizabeth turned and looked up at
her. A look of fear washed over her face, and then sudden relief.
	"Fiona," she gasped. "Help me. You have to help me stop the
bleeding." She pressed her hands frantically over the boys chest.
	One look at the boy's face told Fiona both good and bad news. The
boy wasn't Jason, it was his friend from college, Drew. But nor was their
any point in stopping what little bleeding there might have still been. His
face was pale and sallow, his lips blue, and his eyes staring openly up at
the sky, a looked of surprised bewilderment frozen on his face.
	Elizabeth looked up at her in panic and shouted, "FIona, help me!"
	Fiona set her hand gently on her shoulder, pulling her away from
the boy. "Mrs. Parker, I'm sorry... I don't think there's any point."
	She looked franticly at the girl standing over her and then back at
Drew's body. "No-- he... He was just here! I--"
	"Mrs. Parker, you need to come inside before you freeze. I'll call
an ambulance, but it's too late for him. What happened here?"
	Elizabeth stood shakily. "Yes...  yes, go inside. We need to go
inside," she said, almost to herself. She wiped her hand absently down the
front of her pants, leaving a long streak of blood. "Sara will know what to
do. Sara will help." She passed in through the shattered french windows and
then stood still in the middle of the kitchen. "Sara's not here though..."
Fiona heard her say quietly. "Sara's trying to save Jason... Jason..." And
then quite suddenly she collapsed, falling to the floor in a quivering
mass.
	Fiona ran inside, almost slipping on a shard of glass that skidded
across the floor under her foot, and snatched up the phone off of the
marble counter. She punched in 911 and said hurriedly that they needed two
ambulances and gave the address. "There's a woman who's just collapsed and
a boy who's lost a lot of blood... I... I don't know if he's still alive."

* * *

	As Jason passed through the rip in the sky, he felt something
tingling all across the surface of his body. His arms were raised before
him, so that they were in view of his eyes. They were slowly darkening, as
if his skin were being scorched. Swirling silver patterns rose out of his
skin, winding across his flesh. Something pressed from underneath his
forehead. Two curling spires, like Kudu horns grew upwards from his
brow. His body drifted forwards again, and the clamor behind him grew
steadily. He was rushing suddenly towards a mass of clouds in the
distance. The closer he got though, the less like a cloud it seemed, and
more like a blossoming palace made of alabaster, white marble and what, he
suspected, could well have been clouds forced into shapes to make up walls
and towers as well as the stone. It glistened and shone in the warm light
of a morning sun. Fields of meadow grass and flowers stretched out for as
far as he could see in all directions around the palace.
	He sank slowly downwards and his feet brushed the lush grass,
before they settled firmly into the turf. Pain wracked his head and his
eyes closed involuntarily. They opened slowly, as slits, but the scene
before him was changed. The green fields were replaced with scorched
earth. Pools of blood collected in the hollows of the land as it flowed
from the thousands of bodies that littered the battle field. Spears jammed
into the earth bore the shattered bodies of angels, their arms, legs, and
wings hanging limply in the dry air, fires smoldered in various places as
ash fell heavily.
	A whisper like dry autumn leaves danced around his head. "Witness
my glory-- the First War. Witness the prophecy of Azreal," it said.
	A scrap of fabric drifted past in a swirl of smoke and his hand
snatched out to grab it. It was part of a red banner bearing a woven five
pointed gold star. It was stained with ash and blood. Great winged angels
circled above, swooping down low over the field now and then to stab with a
spear, or hack with a sword. Sounds of steel crashing and battle cries drew
his attention back to the palace. The gleaming stone surface was marred by
scorch marks and holes where chunks of the walls had been blasted
loose. Spiked iron cages covered the balconies and tall windows, barring
entry through them. Far at the base, angels fought furiously in a pitched
battle.
	His wings lifted him up, and he swooped out over the corpses. As he
flew, his arms snapped out and yanked two standards free from the
earth. One gleamed red with the gold pentagram, the other white with a
silver trim and eleven silver hoops twisted together in a crown. They
flapped in the wind as he raced towards the fighting, snapping and whipping
about like a pair of snakes. The ground underneath him lurched and
shattered, splitting apart and racing before him, throwing chunks of earth
into the air. It smashed into the side of the fighters, driving them
apart. Like waves crashing against a pier, the mass split, and he rushed up
between them until he was in the heat of the fighting. Mephistopheles stood
nearby on his right, the stubs of four wings bandaged but still seeping
blood protruding from his back as he twisted the fabric of the universe to
deliver spells like physical blows against his enemies. The hulking mass of
Beelzebub barreled into a crowd of angels to the left. He was mindless to
their weapons, which crashed futilely against his heavy armor. His four
arms lashed out with blades and chains, cutting down his enemies. Directly
in the center of the battle, a private war was being carried out. One
hundred and forty-four wings whirled and flapped, creating a storm of wind
around them.  Lucifer stood in the middle of the circle, his crimson armor
the only thing setting him apart from the other Ancients who's forms were
clad in gleaming silver. His great red cape swirled around him, entangling
weapons and flinging them aside like an extra appendage. From the gleaming
spotless state of their armor, he could tell none of them had engaged
anyone else in the battle. They'd been focused solely on their own
fight. Lucifer wielded two blades of steel that blazed with white fire as
he whirled them around his body, deftly catching blades and turning them
aside while managing to avoid his own flapping wings. But he was clearly
tiring. His moves were becoming more and more desperate as the effort of
battling eleven opponents began to finally take its toll on his angelic
body.
	Azreal rose above the twelve warring forms until he was visible
from the entire battlefield. He began spinning rapidly, his dozen wings
working to create a vortex of air.  Blood from the battlefield was lifted
into the air and whirled around him, staining his glistening wings a deep
crimson. He pulled the air into his body and released it so that his voice
bellowed out as a scream of rage that shattered the remaining windows of
the palace and brought many of the lesser angels to their knees, clutching
their ears in pain. The twelve below him paused in their conflict to look
up at Azreal and he flung down the two standards he bore. They plowed deep
into the ground and stuck, one on either side of Lucifer.
	"Cease this!" He cried out, his voice echoing across the
fields. "Are we no better than the savage beasts that wander the earth we
have been entrusted with?" His wings beat loudly in the silence that
followed his words. "The fighting shall cease this day-- but that you are
saved is immaterial. What is important, is that you know the source of your
benefaction. I am Azreal. Let this day be marked down in our history
forever as the end of the war. Lucifer, you shall take your followers and
leave this place never to return. You remaining eleven shall let all who
chose to follow him pass without incidence. The gates of Heaven will be
opened to ALL but Lucifer and his consorts. Thus is my word of law. And
thus is the prophecy I set upon you: 'If ever again the Council of Heaven
is lead astray, I will return unto you in the guise of a mortal and be
reborn into my form. And all those eyes that were blinded shall see once
more.' Never forget this, for it is my death curse, and I *will* hold it
true."
	Azreal flipped in the air and dived towards the ground below
him. The twelve other ancients scattered to the sides as he plunged towards
them. Energy crackled around his body and suddenly, he vanished leaving
behind a circle of energy that blasted outwards, knocking the angels to the
ground.

* * *

	Lucifer passed through the rift in the sky and alighted on the lush
grasslands. He inhaled the fresh air deeply and sighed happily. Stepping
forwards, he laid his hand on the black shoulder of Azreal. "I have awaited
this day for a long time, old friend. It's good to be back."
	Azreal turned his head to look at the fallen angel, seeing the army
of fallen angels and demons slipping through the break. He grasped
Lucifer's hand with his own and firmly removed it. "You would do well to
remember that I was not on your side, old friend."
	"I know," Lucifer answered passively. "But this time, we're both
here for the same thing."
	Azreal rounded on him. He stood almost a foot and a half over the
fallen angel. The silver markings on his body gleamed in the
sunlight. Lucifer was clad in his same crimson armor he'd worn during the
first war, his swords as yet remained sheathed. "If even a single blow
falls before I am finished here, I swear to you, nothing will stand before
my fury." He turned again to face the gleaming citadel in the
distance. "Despite what you think, Lucifer," he said quietly. "Neither of
us shall be staying long."
	Before the fallen angel could answer, he'd spread his twelve wings
and leapt into the air, rushing towards the citadel.

	Mephistopheles and Beelzebub approached Lucifer from the sides.
	Beelzebub was the first to speak, "Can we count on him this time?"
	Mephistopheles shook his head. "If it is Azreal, and it certainly
seems to be, then we can count on him only to do what he set out to do.
Nothing more."
	They both looked to Lucifer. He calmly unfolded his wings from
behind, letting the warm sun fall on his black feathers. "Assemble the army
before the gates," and then, as if as an after thought, "No-one attacks
until I say."

***

	Matt and his father blossomed out of the sky before the glistening
gates to the citadel of Heaven. Matt dashed forwards and grasped the bars
in his hands. He pulled hard on them, straining to pry them apart and gain
access.
	"They've locked us out! Miriam must have gotten here before us!" He
shouted.
	His father's gentle hand on his shoulder startled him. "No Matthew,
they've locked THEM out."
	Matt turned to look over his shoulder. The rest of his body slowly
followed suit. Lined out across the grasslands were thousands upon
thousands of creatures. Incubi and sucubi stood in silence, beside demons;
imps that jittered in the grass; mechanical beings with wings and motors;
and standing at the center of the army, the fallen angels.
	"Why couldn't we transport within the city?" Matt asked in growing
panic. "We have to get a message to Ashley and Tobias to warn them that--"
	"That what?" His father looked up at the gleaming towers high
above. "They already know the army is here. That's why we couldn't
transport inside the gates. They've already lowered a shield enchantment on
the citadel."
	Matt sent out a mental message for his sister, calling through the
invisible barrier of the shield. A shower of silver sparks on the other
side of the gate announced her arrival.
	She dashed forwards to the gate, stopping a few feet short so as
not to hit the shield. "Matt, I'm sorry! We couldn't wait any longer-- we
had to put the shield in place..." Her eyes wandered past his shoulder and
she gasped quietly. "D-dad?" She ran at the barrier suddenly, her fist
smashing into it as she cried out, "DAD!"
	Their father stepped forwards to meet her, smiling weakly. He
slipped his hand between the bars and spread his palm out on the shield so
that it faced her fist. Her clenched hand spread out to meet his, separated
by barely an inch of magical energy. "They're shut inside just as much as
we're shut out..."
	Matt grasped the bars in his hands as he faced his sister. "Ash,
where's mom? Did Miriam get inside before the shield went up?"
	She dragged her eyes off of her father finally to meet
his. "N-n-no. No-one... no-one's come or gone since we spotted the army."
	A gust of rushing wind and the sound of wings flapping warned them
of the approach of angels. Matt and his father turned to see a flurry of
black wings racing towards them at the gate. Matt heard the clink of metal
above them and he looked up. Thousands of angels suddenly rose up from
where they'd been concealed behind the walls as even more took to the
air. Many carried bows and crossbows which they aimed though the shield at
the growing form of Lucifer. The fallen angel rushed at them, blades drawn
as his multitude of wings whipped the air into a storm before him. Matt
could already make out the tiny lines of his nearing face when something
massive and red and black fell out of the sky before them.

	Azreal crouched where he'd landed, his head bowed, hands held out
together before him and wings unfurled like sails behind him.  Lucifer was
caught by the sudden release of energy from his palms and was flung up into
the air only to come crashing down some distance away.  Mephistopheles and
Beelzebub were at his side in a flash, helping their leader to his feet.
	Azreal remained crouched, the air before his hands rippling
slightly as if in a heat haze. He raised his head, red pupils blazing with
tiny fire. On the palm of each hand glinted a silver sigil-- a jagged
circle like a sun with a dot in the center, and a blazed line piercing the
circle. "I gave you fair warning Lucifer." He hissed, his voice traveling
across the prairie like an arrow. "These two bear my protection."

	Matt felt something tingling on his neck, just under his adam's
apple in the groove between his collar bones. He glanced at his father and
saw a shimmering rune in the same spot on his neck.
	The being before them had until now been obscured by his numerous
wings, but it now stood with slow grace. It kept rising higher and higher
until it stood over him, his head just coming to it's shoulder. It turned
to face the gates and Matt cried out, drawing Azreal's gaze to him.
	"JASON!"
	And yet, Matt knew already that it wasn't. It was Jason's body and
face, but now a tar black save for where the silver runes gleamed on his
body. Even his hair was the color of pitch. He recognized him as the
thirteenth Ancient from the memory the pattern had provided him with.
	Azreal looked at him curiously and then raised his hand, as if
waving off a gnat. An invisible force caught Matt and gently, but forcibly
moved him to the side of the gates and out of the way.  This left only his
father standing between Azreal and his goal.
	They stared at each other across the few feet of grass that
separated them, a flash of recognition of power and aims visible for just a
moment in their eyes.  Azreal's lips parted slightly to say something, but
Matthew's father bowed silently and stepped sideways, granting him access.
	The Ancient strode forwards and then raised his hands on either
side. Red lightning shot out from his palms blasting into the shield around
the citadel. The enchantment took on a solid form for all to see, like a
great glass dome protecting those inside. It rippled visibly under the
force of the energy and then burst apart. Flecks of snow-like dust rained
down on those gathered. With a roar, Lucifer's forces launched themselves
into a headlong rush at the alabaster walls that still encircled the city.

* * *

	As the shield collapsed above them, the forces Heaven that had been
gathering rushed out over the alabaster walls that encircled the city. The
entire population of Heaven save for a few swooped across the grasslands
towards onrushing army.  Tobias lead a contingent of angels straight for
Lucifer and his fallen angels, intent on engaging them before they could
wreak too much havoc.  Lucifer's swords blazed with black fire as he
readied himself to face their attack. Beelzebub tightened his muscles until
he was a powerhouse of brutal force waiting to be unleashed, and behind
him, Mephistopheles' hands burned with black fire and his mouth moved
rapidly, muttering incantations as quickly as he could. Tobias headed for
him, his own hands reaching out before him as they glowed with searing
white light. Lucifer had barely raised his sword to strike the first angel
from the air when he felt a sudden pull of energy.
	Like the ebb of a tide, the matter of the world itself was dragged
inwards. Time slowed to a crawl and then lines of energy shot like snakes
towards Azreal. They wove between warriors on both sides, frozen in place,
ready to strike one another down. The bands of energy wove faster and
faster towards him until they shot into the ground below him.
	There was no explosion. No sudden flash of light. Just a massive
and unstoppable force that rocked outwards from him in an expanding
ring. Every being, inside the citadel or out was blown off of their feet
and sent crashing to the ground again.
	Azreal visibly quaked with rage. The sole figure standing in a
circle of bowled over bodies. It seemed as if the air itself has been blown
away, as his voice could be heard by even the most distant angel or demon,
and yet he barely raised his voice. It trembled with fierce emotion, but he
held it at a low volume.
	"How DARE you!" His rage was an almost palpable force against the
armies. "I left you with my death oath that no more blood would be spilled
in heaven. I *warned* you that if ever again the Council of Heaven was lead
astray, I would return to you. I *warned* you Lucifer, that you and your
followers were never to set foot in Heaven again." He swept his burning
gaze across them all as they struggled to their feet. Those that raised
their weapons again found the blades dulled and buckled until they were
useless. "But I gave specific instruction to Heaven that was *not* carried
out. By my order, these gates were to be opened to ALL save Lucifer's
followers. And yet even after all these years, the gates have stood closed
to all but the angelic. Not only this, but I return to find corruption rife
in the pristine halls. And as if to add insult to injury, the truth of our
history has been replaced with a shamble of lies you teach to your
children. At least Lucifer has always set out the truth of our past before
his followers. The same cannot be said for the ruling members of
Heaven. Your blind lies have caused blind meddling in the matters of the
earth. It was *our* duty to protect them from outside influence and watch
over them-- and here you yourselves have interfered."
	He paused in his tirade to sweep his eyes over them all once
more. "I realize where I was at fault those many years ago. I should have
left nothing up to you. You have failed your wards in every way and not
held to a single task I set to you. Heaven should need no ruling
council. For there should be no need for power in our white halls of
paradise--"
	"No!"  Someone screamed. "You can't *do* that!"

	Miriam had found her way blocked into the city when the shield came
down, but she'd remained hidden outside the walls and watched Matthew and
his father find their way blocked as well.  She'd seen the whole scene play
out from the safety of a camouflaging enchantment. But the blast from
Azreal had shredded it from her form. She'd struggled to her feet to hear
what he'd had to say, but she could take it no longer.
	Screaming her refusal, she ran at him. *She* was the Chancellor of
Heaven, not him. Only *she* could make such decisions. The council was just
a formality. But no-one could unseat her from the throne she'd worked so
hard to gain. She threw herself towards him, intent of strangling the life
out of him. As she neared, she recognized the altered face of the boy that
had caused her so much trouble. She knew he was a fraud now. He was no
Ancient angel or powerful being. Just a child run astray. Finally she could
set him in his place. Finally she could expose him to all of Heaven that he
was a fake and they would have no choice but to hand her absolute power out
of their admiration and respect. After all, no-one else had seen through
the illusion. She was rewarded with a deep sense of satisfied when his
black eyes reverted to their shining blue, tinged with fear.

	And indeed they were.
	As Miriam darted towards him, Azreal felt a twinge of hate from the
boy who's body he inhabited. He quickly sifted through his memories to see
what she'd done to him, before diving deep within his being.
	Jason had been waiting for him at their shared core. The boy had
looked on him with fear and awe. He'd taken his hand and whispered in his
ear that now was his time for revenge. And without another thought, Azreal
had dragged Jason back to the conscious part of his mind and set the reigns
of their shared body in his hands. He felt Jason's fear of the woman as she
rushed towards him and he used his presence to soothe him. His whispers
were like thoughts to the boy, instructing him that she couldn't harm him,
but now was his chance to eke out a revenge for all the suffering she'd
caused him.
	So the fear that Miriam saw in his eyes, was for the being that he
now shared his body with.  But as Azreal coerced him and soothed him, he
ceased to fear him and turned his attention on her. His hands snapped out
as she dived for him and caught her on either side of the head. He pushed
downwards, forcing her to crash to the ground on her knees.
	Something he'd heard Matt say long ago came floating back to
him. He couldn't be sure if Azreal had caused it to surface, or if it came
back on it's on, but he remembered standing in the safe-house,
eves-dropping as Matt talked to professor Wolf:
	'"I can touch upon his thoughts, but they don't stay still. They
move too fast to focus upon them and then they change. His mind is
like... imagine a trumpet vine, every year it grows and expands, and every
summer it blossoms, with more flowers with each passing year. Now imagine
that it's continually in bloom as it grows. If you took a hundred years of
growth and sped it up into a few seconds, you might have a small portion of
his mind for a few moments."'


Jason leaned in close, peering into her eyes. "Welcome to my world, you
bitch."
	A spark of energy lanced out into the space between them. It hung
in the air momentarily, before zig-zagging and slamming into Miriam's
forehead. The force of it knocked her backwards out of his grip and she
hung in the air, half-thrown back, the bolt of energy still flowing between
them.  A high pitched wailing filled the air and it took him a moment to
realize it was coming from her throat. Her eyes rolled back into her head
and her body began to convulse.
	Jason felt Azreal push him back down into the core of his being as
his body was once more usurped. The Ancient severed the connection between
his mind and Miriam's. She fell backwards into the grass and lay there,
staring up at the clouds above her, her eyes seeing nothing as her mind
struggled to deal with the brief exposure to the combined mind of Jason and
Azreal.

* * *

	Once more in possession of the boy's body, Azreal stepped towards
the polished gates. He raised his palms before his face and muttered
quickly. The glyphs on his hands darkened until they were the same color as
his skin. They bubbled and then the flesh burst, oozing blood. It trickled
down his wrists as he reached to his neck and carefully lifted the key and
chain off of his head. His blood spilled down onto the crystal, coating it
and turning the white luminescence to a dark red glow.  The gates seemed to
bend away from the key, as if trying to escape it.  Azreal forced his hand
forwards as a spider web of energy lines crackled before him, centering on
the key. The blood still dripping from his hands took on a life of it's own
as it wound outwards in rivulets to meet the web.  It hissed loudly and
then suddenly his hand shot forwards, delivering the key into the lock. He
turned it once and then reached out and and grasped one half of the gate in
each hand. Red flames licked out from the wounds on his hands until both
halves of the metal portal were wreathed in fire. He tore them loose,
ripping them from their sockets in the walls and flinging them out across
the grasslands.
	A gentle hum filled the air that grew and grew like the sound of a
swarm of locusts. The very earth vibrated underneath his feet and then the
first of them breached the rift he'd torn in the sky from one world into
another.
	It was a spirit. The soul of a dead human. Moving too fast to
retain it's form, it raced towards the opened gate like a streak of
gossamer light. More followed it, a slow trickle of souls at first which
soon became a raging river as the billions upon billions of souls that had
been in Hell-- the Land of the Dead-- were drawn upwards through the tear
he'd ripped in the red sky there, across the globe along the same path he'd
taken, to the rift in the blue sky. As they rushed into Heaven, they
slowed, taking on the bodies they remembered in life. With every soul that
set foot within the gates, it expanded to accommodate them, growing larger
and larger so that there was no press for space within.
	Azreal swept his arm across the prairie he'd averted from becoming
a battlefield again. The mechanical beings crumbled and broke down, the
spirits that had locked themselves inside the metal set loose to mingle
with the rush of souls through the gates. The ground underneath the demons
and imps bulged alarmingly and then bubbled up around them, swallowing them
and then falling flat again, depositing them neatly back in Hell. The plane
there, now released from the stress of holding up under so many trillions
of souls shrunk rapidly, healing over it's fiery scars.
	He turned to the angels who watched in awe, the stream of souls
flow into Heaven. "From this point on, ALL souls will be welcomed into
paradise regardless of their nature or their transgressions while they were
alive. It is not our place to judge them. No mortal being has the right to
judge another."

	Lucifer dashed into the rushing torrent of souls. He was soon
caught up and buffeted about until he was flung through the gates. He sunk
heavily to the ground on the other side, hands digging into the earth. He
tore up handfuls of it and brought it to his nose, inhaling the scent. A
happy sigh escaped his lips.  His hands fell to his sides and he let the
earth slip from his fingers. He sat back on his haunches and looked up at
the brilliant blue sky.
	A ray of light tore down through the clouds, swirling the mists
around it as it descended upon the fallen angel. He let his wings stretch
out in the warm light and laughed joyfully as he felt them changing. The
blackened feathers paled until they gleamed like pearls. His body took on a
glistening sheen, as if his skin were turning to gold. He said something as
his image blurred and then disappeared. It carried on the winds to where
Azreal stood. "I'm coming home my sweet siblings. I'm coming home to you."
	Mephistopheles edged closer to the gates, wary of being caught by
the tumult of souls still spilling through. He peered around the edge of
the alabaster wall and a wistful expression washed over his face.
	Beelzebub made his way over to stare through it as well. He laid a
heavy hand on the smaller fallen angel's shoulder. "You don't want to go,
do you?"
	"I won't stop you if you wish to..." Mephistopheles said quietly to
him.
	"My place is beside you. I shan't be leaving until you do."
	Mephistopheles looked up at him and smiled. He turned to Azreal and
bowed low. "With your permission, I would like to stay and see how this all
plays out... Hell will need sorting out, and I think Heaven will be
changing too. I want to see what happens before I move on."
	Azreal bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Your fate is, as ever,
your own. He looked to the hulking fallen angel behind Mephistopheles.
	Beelzebub shook his head. "As long as he stays, so shall I." He
smiled shyly, belaying his fierce exterior.
	"Ah," Azreal noticed the position of the fallen angel's hand and
smiled. "I understand. Let the other fallen angels know that the pardon is
universal-- if they wish to move on, they need but enter Heaven." He
pivoted and strode towards the gate himself.  As he passed Matthew, his
features flickered for a moment and he came to a halt. "Take the rest of
the angels to the second pattern within the mountain. They'll see the same
truth you saw."
	Matt looked at him, but his eyes kept darting to the river of souls
that still flowed into Heaven.  Miriam's groan drew both their attention to
where she lay on the ground.  Matthew's father was already by her side,
gently lifting her to her feet.  Matt looked at his parents in
confusion. "But dad..." he started, "she locked you up... she... she tried
to kill me and Ash... I..."
	"Her mind was already slipping into madness. I'm afraid the contact
with my mind shattered what little of her sanity she had left." Azreal
apologized.
	Matt's father looked at him sadly. "We won't be staying here. It
was my time to leave long ago-- and she can't stay here in her state."
	Tobias came forwards and helped him support the ex-chancellor. "I
too have reached the end of my time here. I'd like to move on as well--"
	"But dad!" Ashley ran forwards. "Dad we've ust got you back... you
can't leave now... not... not *now*." Tears brimmed in her eyes.
	Her father smiled weakly at her, "I wish I had been here to see you
grow up... but I can't stay now. Azreal has achieved what I attempted to do
before your mother trapped me. I know that as soon as I step through those
gates, I will pass from this plane. Your mother and Tobias shall go with
me. Watch over your brother. He won't be staying either I think, but for
different reasons."
	Ashley looked confusedly at her brother.
	The two elder angels moved forwards, carrying Miriam between the,.
They took several steps inside the gateway, before lances of light spilled
down upon the,. After a few seconds of translucence, they faded entirely
from view.
	Ashley gave a quiet sob, but stayed by Matt's side as he wrapped
one arm around her.
	Azreal moved towards the gates too, and Matt reached out his free
hand. He stopped short as the Ancient halted. Without turning, he spoke
softly. "Find Jason wherever he comes to rest. The fall from grace is a
terrible journey." He paused, and then continued, "His friend, Drew, died
at the hands of Damien. You'll know what to do when the time comes."
	And before Matthew could say another word, Azreal propelled himself
through the gates with his wings. He landed on his feet several paces
within. Light cascaded down around him, setting his form gleaming. The
ground beneath him fell away suddenly, and Jason's face looked at Matt in
surprise for a moment. The angel lunged to reach him, but he was already
falling. Matt's grasping hands were met by hard turf as the earth sealed
up.

* * *

	Jason saw the earth seal together again above his head, and then
rise sharply upwards, away from him. A cloud rose up around him, blocking
it from further view. Another puffy mass of condensation rose past him. He
held out his arms and saw the black tones of his skin seeping away from his
hands, retreating up his arms. There was a rustling from behind him and he
felt the twelve wings drawing into his body and melting away.
	A gust of whistling wind caught him and he tumbled in the air. Wind
rushed past his face as he passed through cloud after cloud. He'd just
started to wonder where he was, if he was where the other angels had gone
when he fell through a break in the clouds and the world was suddenly
spread out beneath him like a blanket in minute detail. Detail that was
slowly growing larger and larger. Wind whistled past his ears and his heart
felt like it was trying to climb out of his throat. He was caught by
another gust of wind and his body flipped twice.
	When he'd turned over again, he could already see his house far
below and off to one side. Two ambulences were parked in the driveway and
two stretchers rushed out of the house, people desperately trying to
resuscitate one of the forms.
	He briefly considered screaming as the ground rushed up to meet
him-- but what was the point? It wouldn't stop his fall.  And he doubted
anyone could save him at this point. The ground suddenly looked much more
solid and unforgiving. Maybe he'd scream anyway. He opened his mouth-- too
late.
	His body his the ground with a sickening crunch.

* * *

	Sara waited pensively in her headquarters for any information to
come through. Her entire base had been mobilized-- and so far for
nothing. She'd expected fire and brimstone to hail down on them, or rifts
between worlds to open up to allow fighting to spill through. But it had
been hours now since she'd last heard from either Antioch or her mysterious
companion. She paced back and forth, Scott standing near the window
overlooking the base, tapping his foot impatiently. A bright light from the
far side of the room simultaneously drew their attention.
	"What's going on?" Sara immediately demanded. "Why haven't we been
sent anywhere?"
	"Be thankful child," the robed figure said patiently. His hood was
down, and his face kept flickering through various faces. As if realizing
how distracting it's appearance was, it pulled up it's hood
tightly. "Things went far better than even I could ever have hoped."
	"What's that supposed to mean?" Scott asked.
	"It means my boy, that your world need not worry any longer. Azreal
has performed his duty and opened the gates of Heaven to the dead. Hell has
been restored to the demons and war has been averted."
	Sarah stepped forwards. "And what about Jason? What did Damien do
to Jason?!"
	The hood rounded on her.  "Damien has finally met his end. Jason
killed him with the help of Azreal.  You may want to contact Antioch and
pass along the good news. Although they'll have some trouble explaining
what happened on every satellite image and radar from here to
China. Perhaps a meteor shower interfering with the satellites?"
	"What about my brother?!" She demanded.
	Sarah could feel the pair of eyes deep within the hood fix upon
her. "Azreal finished with him.  I'm sure he's off lying in some field
somewhere."

* * *


Well there you go-- a conclusion to that chapter and a few revelations on
the way.
	Comments and questions as ever and always to
Archangelmatthew72@Hotmail.com. Also, if you want to be added to the
Mailing list, then e-mail me saying so and I can let you know whenever I
post a new chapter. Take care all!