It would be a Hell that the forever man deserved.
But Remy had made a promise to the Lord and would see it through to the end.
“I’ve watched you, Remy Chandler,” Simeon said, finally ceasing his struggles. “Or should I call you Remiel?”
Remy did not respond.
“Since the first time I laid eyes on you, I’ve known you were something special . . . someone to watch.”
Simeon’s words were like serpents, wriggling into his ears, his brain. But Remy continued to ignore him, focusing instead on their journey.
“I believe your Lord God feels the very same way, allowing you this life—this human existence. Permitting you to believe that you are free.”
Remy could feel the forever man’s eyes on him, probing for weakness, a chink in his armor.
“But you’ve never truly been free, Remiel,” Simeon cooed. “He’s always known exactly where you’ve been, winding you up and putting you in motion when needed.”
“Shut up,” Remy ordered through clenched teeth, regretting the words as soon as he said them. He’d allowed the man under his skin.
“You’ve always been there on His earthly plane to keep things in order for Him. Such a good little soldier. He must be so appreciative.”
“I said shut up,” Remy yelled, squeezing the forever man just tight enough that he felt the bones creak, on the verge of breaking.
Simeon grunted in pain, but it didn’t stop him. “How does He repay you for your hard work, this loving God of yours? . . . Oh yes, that’s right. He took your wife from you.”
It was all that Remy could stand. His rage bubbled up in a scream and surge of divine fire. “Silence!” he cried, now more Seraphim than man, more angel than human.
And Simeon wailed in agony, his flesh once again burned by the fires of Heaven. Reveling in the screams of the forever man, Remy unfurled his wings in the darkness of the void between where they had been and where they were going.
“I should leave you here to burn for all eternity, a candle of wickedness to light the darkness of the void.”
“Do it!” Simeon croaked. “Nothing can be worse than what I’ve already endured! Do it!”
The raw emotion in Simeon’s voice caught Remy off guard, and he suddenly felt an odd sense of compassion. He reined in the fire, briefly considering that Simeon might actually have been punished enough.
And with that merciful contemplation, the darkness became consumed by light. Remy grabbed hold of his smoldering foe and turned toward the source of the imposing illumination, his gaze resting on the most wondrous of sights.
Something that would never be seen again.
Unification.
Remy was speechless as he beheld the mechanizations that would reunify Heaven and bring the world of man that much closer to God. It was like looking at the workings of some great cosmic machine. The stuff of Heaven, Pandemonium, and Eden gradually moving toward one another, each of the enormous masses changing—reconfiguring—to join with the core that was Heaven and the Golden City.
Remy managed to tear his gaze away from the wonder of it all, to look upon the forever man, who stared with eyes wide, tears streaming down his blistered cheeks. Holding Simeon tighter, Remy flapped his wings, allowing them to soar closer to the magnificent happenings.
“Look at it,” Remy commanded him. “This is what you wanted to stop.”
Simeon struggled but soon relented, allowing the awe-inspiring sights to wash over him.
The air was filled with the music of the chorus of the divine, singing out in joy.
But that sound was rudely interrupted with the sound of screams, bellows of rage suddenly rising up from the green of Eden.
The Garden was in the midst of returning to whence it had come, tendrils of thick root already reaching out to entwine about the base of the Golden City. But from its earth, monsters emerged, monsters that were very familiar to Remy. They were the Shaitan, and they would see Heaven dragged from the sky.
The Archangel Michael and his soldiers stood at the Garden’s edge, entranced by the transformation before them but seemingly unaware of the scene transpiring behind them.
Simeon looked at Remy then and smiled; the cruel creature that the years of immortality had forged returned. “And so it begins,” he said, laughing, enjoying the nightmare that was about to unfold.
Remy released him then, tossing the man away from him as if repulsed. The forever man spun through the air, drifting toward the center, which was the Kingdom of Heaven.
The Shaitan had launched themselves into the air above the Garden of Eden, a swarm of the abominable, intent only on evil forged from God’s rejection.
Remy knew what he must do. From his pocket, he removed the rings of Solomon and without a moment’s hesitation slid the rings upon his fingers.
Countless millennia hidden beneath the soil of the Garden had twisted the Shaitan, who were once considered as the Almighty’s messengers and servants, before the creation of the angels. No longer were they divine in nature.
But demonic.
And it was time that Remy informed them of this.
“Hold, demon spawn!” he announced, feeling the power of Solomon’s ring flow through him.
The Shaitan shuddered en masse, their pale forms in flight above the Garden beginning to fly in a circular motion, creating a kind of demonic cyclone.
“You will do no harm this day.”
The Shaitan fought him, screaming and attempting to break from their spiral configuration, but they were held in place by the power of the ring.
Remy then turned his attention to the Archangel Michael and his troops, still blissfully standing at attention, totally unaware of the evil that had arisen behind them.
“Michael,” Remy called as he hovered above the archangels.
He saw Michael’s eyes clear, realization gradually turning to fury.
“Remiel,” he spat in recognition.
Again, Remy felt the power of the rings, this time allowing him to command his own kind.
“Archangels of Heaven, behind you is a threat that must be disposed of if Unification is to be carried out.”
Michael and the others spun around, truly amazed at the sight of the Shaitan behind them, swirling above the Garden.
“What madness is this?” Michael asked, turning his angry stare to Remy.
“A madness that has been allowed to go on for far too long,” Remy told him. “Dispose of it and be done.”
It looked as though the archangel commander might argue with him, but he had no choice, and spread his powerful wings. The others did as their commander did, swords of fire igniting in their grasps. Michael let out an ululating cry before leading a flock of angels toward the maelstrom.
To at last purge a festering evil from Eden.
And allow it to return, pristine, to Heaven.
• • •
Remy turned from the massacre of evil to the spectacle before him as the Golden City and Hell’s Pandemonium came together to create a thing of awe and beauty.
He flew toward the new city, a fascinating yet strange mixture of ornate citadels and spires that appeared to be forged from crystal, gold, and the rays of the sun, and towers and buildings that seemed as if they were chiseled from obsidian, marble, and arctic ice. It would be called simply “the Kingdom,” and it would be breathtaking in its awesomeness.
Flying toward the center of the shifting and changing city, Remy was suddenly bathed in an unearthly light, and everything before him seemed to fade from view, revealing two figures standing upon a platform of gold that hovered in the air. He was compelled to go to it and touch down before the two figures.
“Hello, Remy,” the Almighty said, wearing the guise of the old gentleman as he had before.
“Remy,” Lucifer Morningstar said, a sly smirk upon his perfect features.
Remy furled his wings as he landed upon the platform, bowing his head and dropping to one knee.
“Th
at’s quite enough of that,” the Almighty said, stepping forward to gently take Remy by the arm and force him to rise.
“I got here as soon as I could,” Remy told him. His eyes then darted about nervously, catching Lucifer’s attention.
“Lose something?” the Morningstar asked.
“Simeon,” Remy answered. “I tossed him in this direction, but . . .”
“The forever man,” Lucifer said, glancing to the Almighty beside him. “Your Son truly had no idea what He’d created in that one.”
The Almighty smiled sadly and nodded his head. “To some it would have been a gift to truly experience everything that life had to offer as well as to use the knowledge acquired with this great longevity to benefit mankind itself.”
“You would think,” Lucifer commented. “But alas . . .”
“Alas,” God repeated sadly. He gazed off into the distance, seeing something beyond the glowing white light of the void, something that Remy was not privy to. “So many realities . . . so much anger.”
And Remy believed that he actually saw tears in the Almighty’s eyes.
“Where is . . . ?” he started to ask, curious as to what had happened to the immortal called Simeon.
“He is being dealt with,” Lucifer answered, looking directly at God, giving Remy the impression that he did not approve of whatever God’s plan was for the forever man.
“Is there anything you’d like me to do?” Remy asked.
God smiled at him, reaching out to rest a liver-spotted hand upon Remy’s shoulder. “You’ve done quite enough, my son.”
“There is one thing,” Lucifer said. “We need a witness.” He extended a hand toward the Creator.
“A witness to the act of Unification,” God added, turning toward the Morningstar.
And Remy did as was asked of him, watching as God took hold of the First of the Fallen’s hand. The two shook fiercely, and Remy waited for something . . . more: a choir of angels singing hosannas, perhaps.
Something to signify the importance of what had just occurred.
“You look disappointed,” Lucifer said as he released his Father’s hand.
“I thought there would be more to it.”
“What, like a parade?” Lucifer chided.
“I love a good parade,” God said with a cheery smile.
“So Unification is done?” Remy asked.
God turned ever so slightly to the glowing void behind him, and the white of nothing turned to reflect the glorious new Kingdom of Heaven.
“And there’s this,” God said.
“Impressive,” Lucifer Morningstar said, standing beside him.
It was as if they’d forgotten him, chatting back and forth about the new city that had come to be. Remy saw that the Garden of Eden had now joined to become part of the Kingdom, miles and miles of lush plant life, and flowering vines entwined about the towering structures, adding a touch of green—of life—to the amalgam of two great cities.
It was truly a sight to behold.
He seemed to come out of nowhere, like a storm with the potential for great destruction.
Francis.
The Pitiless pistol—the Godkiller—was clutched in his hand, its shining golden surface reflecting the lights from the Kingdom. He was coming up behind them, behind God and the Morningstar, and Remy was too far away to stop him.
But then he remembered what he still wore upon his fingers.
“Francis, stop!” Remy cried, his voice echoing powerfully off the sprawling city before him.
Francis was behind the Almighty, the barrel of the golden pistol pointed at the back of God’s head. Remy wasn’t sure if his friend had heard the words, and his mind was filled with the imaginings of the gunshot, the roar of thunder, the screams of another world, another reality, as it began to die.
But the sound did not come.
God turned to face the fallen Guardian angel and pushed the barrel of the weapon aside with His hand.
“That might’ve turned out badly,” Lucifer said, taking the gun from Francis. That seemed to snap the fallen angel out of a kind of fugue state, and he looked around, confused.
“What the fuck?” he asked, eyeing Remy and then the Almighty and Lucifer. “Oh crap, what did I do?”
God smiled again and shook his head. “You did nothing but bring this to a close.”
Lucifer opened the pistol and fished for the special bullet.
“Ah, there you are,” God said as Lucifer held it out to him. He closed His hand around the bullet and the light of creation streamed from between his fingers. “It’s good to have you back.”
“The rings,” Lucifer said, extending his hand toward Remy.
Remy hesitated a moment, then reminded himself that things were different now.
“Would somebody mind telling me what’s going on?” Francis asked.
“It’s a new day,” Remy said simply, dropping the pair of rings into the center of Lucifer’s palm.
The Morningstar smiled that beautiful smile, then returned to God’s side. He held out the golden Pitiless pistol and the rings as the All Father raised His still-glowing fist toward them. There was a white flash as the Almighty opened His hand, unleashing the power that He held there. The rings and the pistol were gone, but a glowing sphere now hung between the two former adversaries.
They both seemed pleased with the sphere as it continued to grow, glowing brighter with each passing moment.
“It is done,” God said.
“What’s done?” Francis whispered to Remy. “What is it?”
“The end of this,” God answered as the sphere began to rise.
“The grand finale,” Lucifer added, watching the ball of light grow as it climbed higher.
“A new star will shine in the firmament,” God said, “its light touching the new Kingdom and all those who live within it.”
The glowing sphere climbed higher, and higher still, its size and luminosity becoming larger and more vibrant as it took its place in the blackness of the void.
“Did you get that?” Francis asked Remy, his eyes affixed to the object shining above them. “It’s a star.”
“I got it,” Remy said, just as the sphere seemed to explode in a flash of brilliance that consumed the darkness around them.
Filling it with light.
• • •
Simeon seethed.
All the anger and fury contained within his body threatened to explode. And he wished that he could, the intensity of his rage most assuredly capable of obliterating the Heavens and all that existed within them.
The Seraphim had tossed him away, abandoning him—to where?
Simeon floated in a sea of darkness. He had drifted toward the changing landscape of Heaven when there came a blinding flash, and then there was nothing.
Darkness.
He extended his arms to either side, feeling nothing in the pitch black.
Was this his punishment? Had the Lord God Almighty banished him to live eternally in a place of perpetual shadow? It would be just like that merciless being to do such a thing. To want to torture him further.
Now not only would he live on and on, but he would do it alone, and in total darkness.
A fitting punishment for one who hated God with every fiber of his being. Maybe the Lord expected him to reflect upon his evil, to realize the error of his ways, and to repent his sins.
Simeon wouldn’t dream of it.
Instead he would spend eternity thinking of ways to escape the endless night of this prison, and the awful things he would do to God and those He favored.
“As long as there is life in this body,” Simeon snarled as he floated in a sea of black, “I will never forgive.”
Never.
It was as if something—somebody—was listening.
The darkness was gone, and Simeon was . . .
He did not recognize his surroundings at first, the faces of those who hung over him as he lay.
But then it came to him. Ho
w long had it been since he last thought of them? His family . . . his wife, daughter, and son. His very first family . . . the family that he’d had in the life before his death.
Before he had been brought back.
They were sitting at his bedside, within the tiny desert hut that had been his home then. They were praying for him between their tears. He wanted to scream at them to stop . . . that the God they prayed to was a monster.
But he was too weak, too tired from the sickness that had ravaged his body.
Was this further torture from the God that hated him? To relive the moment when he’d first bid farewell to the family that loved him so? To finally be released from the sickness and pain?
To die, and know the joy of spiritual bliss as his soul returned to the stuff of creation?
Was that how he would now be punished?
Simeon glanced up again at the family that he had loved so very much. To see them again was something special, for he had nearly forgotten their loving faces.
But now there was another face—an older man whom Simeon did not recognize, standing beside the foot of the bed.
Who?
But as the old man looked at him, Simeon knew.
His eyes overflowed with hate as he glared at the stranger. Torture me all you like, he wanted to scream, but I will never forgive you.
The old man stepped closer, reaching out to place a cool hand upon Simeon’s feverish brow, and all the anger and hate that had fueled his purpose for countless millennia left him.
“For all the pain,” the old man spoke, “I give you release.”
And the rage that had become so much a part of him was gone, burned away like the morning fog.
Simeon lay there as he had so very, very long ago, tired from the sickness that ravaged him, ready to go on. Looking up into the face of the old man.
Looking into the eyes of God, Simeon told Him that he was ready.
God whispered how sorry He was, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss upon his dampened brow.
With his last breath, Simeon forgave Him.
And lived no more.
EPILOGUE
The demon sat in his web of darkness, drowning his sorrows in drink after drink.
The angel was alive.
He had hired the greatest of assassins, and the Bone Masters had failed. The Seraphim still lived.