C h a p t e r S i x
Seeds of the Mind
Heaven was warped.
You cannot cast away the crystal glass without the object shattering, just like the creator of Heaven cannot break without his creation tearing itself at the seams.
Lucifer tells me of how he stood, gazing at the drooping body of his creator, his love, his reason for being and existing and breathing and laughing and everything. He tells me of how, as God's power cracked alongside His heart, the sky began to shake and roil, and everything around them twisted beyond recognition.
God would not look at Lucifer as Heaven began to burn. As the orange tendrils of flame licked their heels and singed their hair, He stumbled forwards and took His newest pride in His arms, cradling the fragile, bright creations against his chest.
It was the very same chest that Lucifer had lain against as they talked about infinity on infinite nights.
God would not look at Lucifer as He disappeared from Heaven to lay his new creations on Earth, where they would be safe from the harm of betrayal.
Lucifer stared around him, his eyes beginning to water as the blaze began taking Heaven as its own. Its Creator did not care. He saw angels burning with a blinding fire, heard their screams as they danced the wild dance of death. They flung their arms upwards, but not with the usual ecstasy. Thrashing about frantically in the cool air of Paradise, their screams were stories of the worst kind of horror, a desperate plea for help to a Creator who would not help, and would not save them. Something buried deep inside of Lucifer twitched.
The twitch was what reminded him. It recalled the expression of disgust- of betrayal- on God's face as He looked at him. It took in the sights of the end of Heaven and revelled in them.
It burst forth from Lucifer, speaking with his voice, and yet resonating in a way it never had; a voice that rushed over the heads of the angels around him, stopping them with the power and might of his words. "Stop! Be calm! Come to me!"
Desperate eyes turned on him.
Lucifer felt calm within his reach, and let his form grow so that he could be seen by all. "Our creator has abandoned us in favour of these... humans!" Screaming replaced by murmurs. "He will not help us! We must help ourselves! Gather yourselves to me, and together we will break free of the madness of the bonds that have encased us for aeons!"
The angel's golden eyes began to pour forth emotions. Some hardened and thought of God, of the beautiful Heaven he'd created for them.
Some thought of the long, long centuries of beauty- endless, endless beauty. Who really loves beauty? Who prefers the hero to the villain? Do we not all love what is broken and dark? We all see a piece of ourselves in the villain, hidden away somewhere. No one - no one at all - could ever by completely good: always righteous, never bitter, or selfish, or...
Lucifer extended his arms, and into them, an army gathered. He smiled, and did not notice his soul being stained red by the blood of his dying love.
Lucifer tells me this part of the tale hesitantly. I do not suppose he knows it so well, only being able to pick up on tiny fragments. Still, it is tale enough to tell.
God returned to a landscape of fire and twisted promises. He floated listlessly, his light dimmer than that of a dying candle. He was no longer holy. His joy, his ecstasy, his love, had all been ruined by the one revelation that his most beautiful, perfect creation was flawed.
God called out for Gabriel, and Gabriel appeared with the rest of the angels of Heaven in his wake.
There was stunned silence as they witnessed their creator's fragility, His broken wings. He waved a trembling hand at them and shook his head, turning to Gabriel once more. These angels - these super beings who had come to Him in his time of distress, who did not have the jealousy that had warped Lucifer - they were not perfect, either. They followed His will blindly, like sheep following in a line, and they never bothered to question it, or think a unique thought for themselves.
Gabriel did not bow, instead speaking as fast as he was able. He spoke directly into God's mind, not wanting the others to know the danger of their situation.
It is Lucifer. He has turned them on you, Lord. We must destroy him. There is no other way.
God's eyes sparked with a light that Gabriel had not thought possible in His current condition.
No! I will not destroy him. I shall not. I cannot. I will punish him, but I will not destroy him. It shall not be done, Gabriel.
Gabriel bowed at last, his will bending easily to that of his creator's. He backed away into the throng of angels, and they turned their eyes upwards as their Lord rose higher, beginning to burn with a fearful light.
His voice was stronger then ever before when he spoke, layered by blankets upon blankets of thought and feeling. "Let Heaven be for the beautiful. Let the ugly be destroyed. Destroy them all."
This is where I can insert my own input, seeing as I was there. I sided with Lucifer, stood by him as so many did, gazed upon my creator with eyes full of hatred. While Heaven burned under the angry hurt of God, my own form was corrupted and twisted by a cloud of throbbing, hurting rage. That was the day that rage became ruler, consumed every living thing in the universe by swallowing it whole. I cannot say that I did not like it - the feeling of rage was so deliciously, overwhelmingly ambrosial that it would have been folly to try to fight it.
Mortals can never truly understand this war.
Picture chaos. Picture it in its purest form; undiluted and unrestrained. The angels of Heaven battled with fire and ice and light and shadows and chaos and evil and power. Friends fighting friends, love relinquished and reduced to dust with the flick of a hand, a shot of killing flame.
Two figures towered over it all- the angels who battled on the ground were but ants compared to them.
As the skies roiled with twisted faces and glaring red lights that charred the soul, two figures stood seemingly passive in an almost completely calm area of space, suspended in the equilibrium of dark and light.
God and Lucifer looked to each other, and saw in each other's eyes a mirror of themselves.
The angels stilled their fighting as the first sparks of darkness flew from Lucifer's fingers. The battle below stilled as the two greatest and most glorious beings in this universe fought.
I call it a fight. It wasn't. It was the apocalypse, it was the beginning of time, it was the universe, it was the void. Angels screamed their last as they vanished from existence, unable to stand the might two true Gods.
I remember watching, with my eyes searing to ash and my heart tearing itself out of my chest. I remember the anguish on God's face as he cast a net so wide that it caught Lucifer in its grip, reducing him to thrashing and roaring, cursing his Lord, his lover, with eyes lit only by a sparking hate. I remember the last whisper that God granted Lucifer before he cast him out of Heaven.
God told Lucifer that he loved him, and then he condemned him to Hell.