25 Chapter 24.1

So, the world of the apocalypse.

The history of this world has not been much covered, we only know that in this world Mary Campbell did not make a deal with Azazel, and the vessels of the archangels were not born.

But the Apocalypse happened anyway, and the decisive battle between Michael and Lucifer took place in the sky over Abilene, Texas. There Michael triumphed, tearing his brother apart. From that moment on, Michael practically ruled this world.

And that was the world I decided to visit, for several reasons.

For starters, I was sure it existed, just like the world where the Superhumans are just a series. The latter may even be my home world, but fuck knows, I can't be a hundred percent sure. Time is a tricky thing, though, so it depends, anything is possible. Even a fierce game like that.

I also wanted to see how the ability to open spatial rifts worked. Or whatever it is?

To find out what the costs of movement are, because if just opening a portal to one of the parallels I would be squeezed like a lemon, it would be much more difficult to get out of the whole universe and have to decide something.

But from this point of view everything is fine, I did not feel any serious costs, but only less grace. It certainly will recover, and fairly quickly, but the fact is interesting.

Plus, this world can be used as a testing ground for a few of my ideas. In the story, I certainly intervene, but what the result will not know exactly. Drawing too much attention could be a fatal mistake for my humble self.

And finally, I wanted to see the fight of the strongest archangels, for the show said more than specifically.

"At least half of humanity will be destroyed in their fight."

That's the end of the world.

And what happened? The fight still happened, albeit in recent seasons. Local Misha and Dean killed Lucifer simply by stabbing him in the side with his shiv. THAT'S IT!

That leaves us with the hope that it's all about the show's budget.

As I opened the rift, I not only thought about a particular world, but I also turned to the powers of Chronos in the hope that I could pick the right moment.

I can't travel back and forth in time, but entering a new stream should have worked.

And judging from the information I'd been able to gather over the past few days, it worked.

There hadn't been a major fight yet, but the world was already on the brink. There was a real war of all against all.

If at first, logically, people fought demons and helped the angels with fanatical joy. Then, the more the angels got the vessels, the more the collateral casualties became in the battles across the planet.

People died by the tens of thousands.

Because of this, the British enlightened ones came out of hiding.

Using all their resources, they promptly shared with humanity the knowledge and ways to counteract all the creatures known to them, including demons and angels.

For that they were completely destroyed, every last one of them, but it was already too late and the devils, along with the feathered ones, began to die as well.

Because of the difference in strength, the score was not in favor of humans, but the beginning had been made.

It was a "great" world, giving someone like me a great opportunity to fish in troubled waters. Just be careful, you don't want to meet one of the two monsters roaming around here.

But my blitzkrieg had to be called off before it even began. It is difficult to plan your actions when someone first "hit" your mental defenses, and then, when nothing succeeded, almost immediately began to break them rather swiftly.

And that someone was obscenely strong. Stronger than me.

I didn't wait for someone to get inside my head, and I moved right away. The few days of tranquility were interrupted by a new attack by an unknown brainiac.

I jumped back and forth until I was tired of it. It's hard to mind your own business if you're being "hit on the head" at the most unexpected moments.

I had to solve the problem.

I created something in my consciousness that was remotely similar to a separate space from this very consciousness.

A kind of buffer, allowing me to feel a little bit safe. And in case of extreme need, to buy some time for a tactical retreat. Invited my opponent to a debate.

I managed not to squeal with fright, only thanks to shock and remnants of self-respect.

Lucifer himself decided to visit me in my head. It wasn't hard to recognize him; he'd pulled a Nick on himself in this world, too.

While he looked at my creation with a skeptical eye, I did something that was not my usual thing: I thought. It took me a few seconds to realize the depths of my hopeless stupidity.

I had brought a true vessel of the devil into this world. And here is the result. That same devil found me in spite of all my disguises.

Well, I didn't really find it, just paid attention.

"Tears can't help it," I thought, and tried to calm down.

It worked, a little.

There was no point in being nervous. He may be stronger than me, but he won't kill me, probably. And he wouldn't be able to, I dare hope I was strong enough to be able to run away with dignity, flashing my heels manfully.

He needs this body, which means the consent of the current master, again, perhaps. I am neither demon nor angel, I have a soul, which means freedom of choice, and not even Lucifer can do anything about that.

Right now, the only way he can get his hands on my body is by raping my own brains.

Though, personally, I've always wondered why all this dancing around the vessel, for the sake of consent. Kill it, wait for the soul to fly away, and get in. But I certainly won't ask Lucifer. It doesn't matter.

I already found out everything I wanted to know, namely, who and why was interested in me? There was no point in staying in this place any longer.

No sooner had the light-bearer opened his mouth, than I, like a true English gentleman, took off without saying goodbye.

Moving away, I took a deep breath, and shrugged, it was a shame.

But not having a dialogue with the devil was not the worst thing. What was worse was my next epiphany.

A bright idea that was stuck in my useless head and wouldn't leave it.

Even all of the pack: logic, my instinct for self-preservation (where was it before?) and banal fear, could not weed it out.

After all, everything is so simple, it couldn't be simpler. There was no need to cheat, no need to fight to the limit, no obstacles, just one word. A simple yes. But what will it get me?

And I'll answer (to myself).

It will be my most vivid suicide attempt, for there is only one reason to give my yes, and that is the opportunity to devour Lucifer that follows.

"Genius."

I realize with my meager mind that my chances of pulling this off are so far down the line it hurts to even think about it, but damn.

I'm going to choke. So decided to change course and do what I planned to do before, to collect frags, collect loot.

Maybe I'll let go.

I began by searching for the colt. One cool gun that kills almost everything - it's good, but if they become even two times more, it would be great.

I had one, but whether it would come in handy or not was another question.

Used one not very complicated search ritual.

Unfortunately, you can't find everything you need with it. Only what part of what you already have, this is also its main disadvantage. Plus it's very easy to defend against it.

Crowley definitely knows him and I doubt very much that he hasn't tried to find his bones bypassing our treaty.

I, on the other hand, used a few cartridges from our Colt that I had stashed in my pockets. Of course, I wasn't sure it would work, but the ritual did indicate something.

The twin brother of the wonder cannon was lying under a meter layer of earth in the place where the Hell Gate used to be.

Why was there? Because there was nothing left, just big craters, like after a bombing.

At least the gun itself was intact; all that was left was to clean, grease, and load it. I used a copying spell, which Bobby hadn't invented, to make myself a whole "carload" of ammo.

Time for a little distraction and fun.

***

On a street in a small town like many in northern Pennsylvania, two large groups of creatures were standing across from each other, and judging by some circumstantial indication, they were definitely not human.

Each of the larger group had all-black eyes. Opposing them was a small group of creatures with blue eyes.

They were all armed with silver angelic blades.

The demons gladly used the trophy weapons against their eternal enemies.

This wasn't the first time this had happened in this crazy world, so the ordinary people had long since fled, having cleared the whole area.

Most likely, there will be little left of the city as a result of these subhumans' strife. And not everyone will be able to escape. So it's only logical to get as far away as possible.

Well, the two leaders have finished talking. Judging by the tension of the others present, a fight was imminent.

The situation had become very tense.

But suddenly a third party intervened.

Right in the middle between the two groups, a young dark-haired guy appeared. He was dressed in unremarkable black clothes. The only things of interest were his unusual bright orange eyes and the belt on which his weapon was fastened, an antique revolver to be exact.

The next moment the weapon was covered in a scarlet haze, the guy's silhouette blurred, and a pistol shot was heard, lingering a little longer than usual.

Everyone present except the shooter hit the ground.

And while each of the thirty-seven demons took a bullet in the forehead, the twelve feathered ones were still alive, but with their legs shot through.

The guy looked at his weapon and gave a disgruntled yowl. You could understand him, the tip of the gun's muzzle was glowing red.

***

Collecting grace from the vials and sending the angels into the void made me think that my idea of combining "normal" weapons, the power of Chronos, and the speed of Mercury wasn't so bad, although there were some small drawbacks, like the warming barrel.

Why make it so complicated?

In addition to trivial boredom, I trained other abilities.

I also coded, tried to use my non-Philim powers as little as possible, a whole devil on my tail isn't something you can joke about.

That didn't help me much, though.

After a couple or three more of these attacks, I collected a total of fifty grace phials.

Four of them were not weak seraphim. I didn't collect any souls, not anymore. I had already reached that level of strength where I could absorb any grace, even Archangel's, without consequences. In small portions.

I was in a hurry for one simple reason: Lucifer, the horny bastard, was finding me faster and faster each time.

The first time it happened on the fourth day since my arrival here. Now it's down to two.

He's strange, the whole Devil, and he has nothing better to do than to look for my humble person. After all, I only have his Sword, which would give him a guaranteed victory over his older brother.

Little things like that.

Another reason to visit the parallel world was the possibility of enhancing the grains of abilities I inherited from the gods with local counterparts.

And I used it: Zeus, Chronos, Veritas, Mercury, all of them.

I didn't even spare Artemis. But this time greed won over lust, not lust.

And it paid off. The powers of the gods had reached a qualitatively new level, the skills of the former masters were still far away, but the training would fix everything.

That's what I did in my spare time.

I also got myself a hunter's bow, thanks to a grain of her power. This time there was no problem, as in my world, my hands did not burn with the divine artifact, and the former mistress did not try to kill me for quite a reason.

I hoped it would work out the way it did with the blade.

He's hiding somewhere in the middle of nowhere, and can be summoned at the right moment. The dream of having my own arsenal with a bunch of cool, divine artifacts had not yet fully formed, as I had to say goodbye to it.

I killed a lot of time to find that spatial pocket or whatever it was. The result was a lack of that very result, no pocket.

So if I'm blinking out of this universe into Naruta, Obito and Kakashi will be without their burkas. A personal dimension always comes in handy.

Eh dreams, dreams.

A few more days later, something happened that seriously shook my self-esteem. I found the local Thor, or rather he found me.

And it was like this.

A pumped-up, two-foot tall, blond, bearded man showed up with a flash of lightning and challenged me to a fight.

Um, tried to challenge me.

Strange, because I hadn't touched the Scandinavian pantheon. He didn't seem to care much, judging by his very belligerent attitude.

- I am Thor, god of thunder, son of Odin, murderer of Jormungand, future king of Asgard..." he began his majestic speech, but...

- Who? - I wonder, because I don't know a thing about local mythology. School level, no more.

I also like to interrupt people right in the middle of a speech. I guess being around Gabriel isn't doing me any good.

- Odin.

- No, killed who? - Something familiar, but I can't remember.

- Jormungand, the great serpent. Our fight has gone down in legend. Everyone in this world has heard of him, and you will share his learning...

- Wait," I interrupted again, unable to resist, "what did he look like?

- Skinny smarmy something, little like a mighty warrior like me, but it's just a cover, - without a pause began to answer my question, fine - Behind the harmless face hidden monster, ten-meter, winged snake, green like to devour virgins. But that's not what I expected from the treacherous reptile. Our fight lasted two days and two nights...

- Ha, and I wondered where he went, - joyfully exclaimed I slammed his fist on his palm, it means that the local alpha dragon killed Thor, unexpectedly. God is strong. - And why did you come to me?

- To avenge the slain gods, we are on the brink of Ragnarok, the world is in danger, and only together can we stop this madness. Prepare to die...

- How did you find me? - It's like a drug, I can't stop.

- Grrr. - Being with a dragon didn't do him any good. - Heimdall can see you, he showed me where...

- Is he a Negro? - Well, that's a logical question.

"Well, or not," I thought, dodging a lightning bolt the thickness of me.

It's all the fault of American cinema.

- No. - Why am I answering you, mortal? I can't stop, I can't lie.

- It's a peculiarity of the goddess you've come to avenge. - I confessed to the big man. - And one last, quite ordinary question, may I hold your instrument?

- GRRRAAA!

"He's a little sensitive," I thought aloof, dodging lightning bolts again with my teleportation.

After giving him a quick kicking, I moved on to the fun part, the hammer.

As a god he was strong enough and lightning is great, nothing dangerous for me of course, but that's not the point.

I spent almost half of my time in "those" worlds on my enhancement.

I was not willing to participate in Azazel's project at first, and then, by inertia, I was gaining strength.

I was also very annoyed by the fact that I had to fight with the Devil and the Straw Hats for the sake of power, which made me feel like I was losing my edge.

The psychic deviations resulting from mindless absorption of all sorts of bitchiness are unnecessary to say the least. A leaky roof, was a powerful kick to my strength. That's what helped me to improve my health a little bit.

That rare case where the cause of the problem became the solution.

Where was I going with this?

The result of all my bodywork was the ability to talk to the Archangels as equals, but some kind of Marvel elevator is still cooler.

He did what I couldn't do, raise the hammer.

Circling around the fucking mallet like a hungry white shark, I was quietly freaking out, realizing that I couldn't lift it by fair means. And there was no way around it. And there was nowhere to put it. And a few more excuses to calm myself down.

- Don't touch me again, or I'll shove your hammer so far up your ass you'll be one forever! - I grumbled as I kicked the half-beaten Thor one last time. - And Heimdall, since you're such an eye guy, read my lips. The next time anyone comes to me on your tip, I'll do something horrible, humiliating, and unnatural to you.

I hope they'll take wise counsel, since I've taken pity on them in my immense kindness.

Well, it's time to do something really important. And I even know what.

Having made an important, even momentous decision for myself, I decided to fix the result.

***

- Why do I have to be a Negro? - asked himself a man not much different from Thor.

That, not much, was enough for the other, coarser features of his face, the black color of his hair, and his golden-colored eyes in which the whole universe was reflected.

Thanks to them, he sees almost everything, his gift and his curse.

With his eyes he saw a young boy who had no problem killing gods, demons, and even angels, and he informed his close friend, who was obsessed with battles.

The warning about the creature's considerable danger was successfully ignored, which came as no surprise. And his violent companion, unencumbered by the stamp of high intelligence, set out to restore justice with his hammer.

But all at once it went wrong.

First a short and strange interrogation, where for some reason his friend had to answer very "interesting" questions.

Thoughts went back to the sacred question again. Why should he, one of the Scandinavian deities, a true northerner, be a Negro?

- Nonsense...

A short interrogation was followed by an even shorter battle, and it was no less bizarre. Only two blows.

Thor, despite the thunderbolts covering him, caught a couple of powerful spits and passed out at once.

Luckily for him, for he didn't see his opponent walk up to the divine artifact with an anticipatory smile and... try to pick it up.

It failed.

After a few seconds of stupor, the attempt to lift the hammer was repeated. And it was as successful as the first one.

After muttering something unintelligible to himself, he walked up to Thor, grabbed his leg, and without much effort slammed it (Thor) on the hammer.

The head made direct contact.

The hammer moved, the guy cheered, and only Thor remained in a lifesaving swoon.

After several unsuccessful attempts, the lunatic kicked the thunderer, threatened them both, and took off into Hell. The saddest part was that the son of Odin received most of his wounds after he lost the fight.

- Why a Negro? That doesn't make sense. - I felt like going to help my friend, who was lying helpless and beaten deep in the Canadian woods, but remembered in time that the divine hammer was beyond his power as well, I stupidly gave up. Like so many times before.

- Sorry friend, there are more important things to do.

Aphrodite, in connection with the impending end of the world, arranged another orgy with the modest title "Night of Love". No invitation, but no one's stopping us from watching...

***

It was a hell of a local hellhole. It was like a courtyard. I even saw a couple of angels.

They sucked at saboteurs, got burned almost immediately, and got beaten to death by a bunch of "good" demons.

There weren't any strong demons left. Angels were the first to hunt them. Which makes sense, because demons without a command are a bunch of anarchists, unable to fight back in an organized way.

It's not much better than angels, incapable of any action without a magic kick. It's a whole bunch of initiative-less dummies.

I was distracted from my philosophical musings by a growing sense of unease. And judging by the way the demons were moving, their daddy would be home soon.

And yes, my clairvoyance, which I'd almost forgotten about, hinted that in about twelve and a half seconds, the big feathery buzzard would arrive.

Well, he'll be about five meters away from me, so I shifted a bit and prepared a Molotov cocktail with holy oil.

It wasn't my idea, but it should work.

I had a lot of time to think while I was amusing myself in this unhospitable world, and it was enough time to realize that I had finally lost my bearings.

My plan to let Lucifer in and then consume him didn't stand up to scrutiny. It would be much easier to kill him and his psychotic brother, too.

So I completely changed course and decided to visit the local hunters.

But first I had to give him a discreet hint that his excessive attention to my humble person was mildly stressful and the least bit annoying.

"Three, two, one. Get lost!" The calculation paid off. The moment of appearance and the moment of impact coincided with the accuracy of a nanosecond.

The howl of rage and pain from the flaring archangel became music to my ears.

It's time to go.

***

Lucifer was furious; the war with heaven was almost lost. Despite the number of his army, the quality of it did not shine.

Princes have fallen at the hands of the Seraphim.

Of the Knights, Cain remains, the bearer of the cursed mark and no longer willing to kill.

Of the white-eyed men, only Lilith had true strength, but his first child sacrificed herself to free her father. Alastair, though strong, is only an executioner, as one of the Seraphim proved by killing him without straining.

Not far off is the day when he will have to face his brother in battle, face to face. And he doesn't stand a chance.

Being imprisoned for several millennia is not good for anyone. And if you multiply those years by the time difference, there's nothing to talk about.

But that's not even the point.

Michael, in pursuit of power, killed the freedom-loving and fun-loving Gabriel and the devoted Raphael, consuming their grace. Which made him almost twice as strong. Plus the ability to freely use the energy of heaven.

There seemed to be no chance.

But just recently he sensed the appearance of his true vessel in this world.

How and why such a thing happened is not at all important.

It was akin to a divine miracle and the terrible Devil, Satan himself, the prodigal son almost prayed to his father.

He held back at the last moment. Pride was stronger.

But all was not well here either; the vessel was there, he could feel it, but he could not find it. Only long meditations, helping to tune into the soul of the host, gave an opportunity to communicate with the owner of the body.

Almost overcoming something resembling mental protection, the vessel disappeared again.

Imprisonment in a cage, in the very depths of Hell, had taught him only one thing, patience. So, after giving a few commands to his sixes, he tried again and again to track down his future receptacle.

The thought that he would fail was akin to the blackest heresy. Such an opportunity should not be missed.

And he succeeded, the future vestibule lost patience first and made contact.

But the dialogue failed again. A few seconds of eye contact made it possible to understand a lot.

The guy's eyes reflected recognition - which could not be.

Then fear-which, after the first one, made sense.

Next came a kind of detachment, the kind that happens when pathetic people think about something and stop paying attention to the reality around them.

And before it disappeared again, there was the brightest look-as in food.

And that's even stranger.

All that's left of this encounter is a bunch of new questions and a twitching eye at the current vessel.

There is justice or something similar after all, for his sword ended up in Hell. This was felt, though not immediately, but relatively quickly.

Another miracle happened, one of his demons turned out not to be a complete degenerate and dragged the vessel to where he had all the power.

Already anticipating how he would break the will of this bug, how he would amuse his ego at the expense of a weak and helpless human soul, or whatever he was.

It was hard not to notice the presence of some abilities.

In a good mood, I even wanted to say something similar to the speech of a human movie villain.

But all of that receded into the background when a burning jug of holy oil flew into his head as he appeared.

He had never felt so much pain and humiliation, not even when he was thrown into a cage.

It took half a minute to put out the holy fire, restore the vessel, and get back to full alert.

He was literally surrounded by a visible aura of power. The demons that had gathered to see what had happened were instantly disembodied.

All that was left was him and a gift box with a bow on the lid, and a note attached to it.

"Lucy, I'm sorry, but we can't be together. "Please accept this gift from me. You need it most at this moment."

With trembling anger, I pulled the ribbon and opened the box, and there it was...

***

Eh, I love all sorts of notes, I hope he appreciates it.

It is, after all, the most expensive and high-quality sunscreen I could find in the seconds while he was fluttering somewhere on his flaming wings.

My thoughts were interrupted by a powerful burst of energy of pure light that could be felt even on Earth, and this is another plane of being for a second.

And I was probably not the only one.

- You invested heavily, so you liked it. - I merrily said, looking around, just in case.

I'm going to lay low for a while.

Going back to the hunters, what can I say - "Seven woes, one answer".

So I paid a visit to the local Bobby, completely out of sight of course; I wanted to know what was going on in his head first.

I liked what I found out. He can't stand demons, as expected, but he doesn't like angels after all that's happened in the world since they came.

So the dialogue was to be.

Deciding that it was not a good idea to shock the owner by showing up in the middle of the house, I simply and unpretentiously knocked on the door.

And half a minute later, they shoved a sawed-off shotgun in my face. A very welcoming encounter.

Although this is not surprising, these are not quiet times.

- Who are you? - asked me an older copy of my friend, showing me that if I made one false move, I would get a very close look at what he had stuffed into the sawn-off shotgun.

- We need to talk about what's going on. I am ready to go through all possible checks. - I made my position clear right away. Deja vu, man.

- You will pass, where would you go?

The next thing on the list was a feathery check. Bobby drew his angel blade and sliced my hand.

Rare on the one hand, but not so much on the other.

Singer lived alone, didn't have a lot of close friends, so he was too busy hunting. He knew lots and lots more. He had not only a blade but also holy oil, the way he learned about fighting angels from demons, watching and torturing, so to speak.

Even after passing the test, I was always in the crosshairs, only now with a revolver.

- Paranoia is the key to a paranoid man's long and happy life? - I asked with a chuckle, so as to say something. We had been staring at each other for five minutes without saying a word.

- Right.

And that's all he said as he continued to glare at me.

- My name is Adam Smith, I'm a hunter..." I turned to a more constructive dialogue, because we could stare at each other until the end of the world, and the sad thing is, it's really not far off.

- I've never heard of such a thing, and I know many, very many. - He pulled the trigger.

- ...and I'm from a world parallel to yours. - I finished my introduction.

- And I'm supposed to believe this nonsense, because?

What was I hoping for? But I was too lazy to make up a believable legend.

- I'm going home soon, and I don't care what happens to you here. But since we are friends in that world, it is not difficult for me to share information and help a little. - I've noticed for a long time that telling only the truth is very convenient and easy.

- And how is the second me? Also made hunting the meaning of life and constantly drinking crappy whiskey? - Judging by the crooked smile, the question is almost rhetorical. He doesn't.

- He did at first, but then he got married again, had a child, and gave up hunting. - It's hard to surprise a man with his own behavior, but I managed to get a positive result.

- I believe you even less now. - Or not so positive... Yeah.

- I don't really care if you believe me or not. I'll just give you some information and a few options to solve the problem under the humble name of the Biblical Apocalypse, and then do what you want.

- Will Lucifer and his demons really win? As far as I know, black eyes are in deep doo-doo. - Bobby was interested.

- No, Michael will kill his brother, and ten years after he wins, there won't be any demons left.

- I don't see what's so bad about that...

- Neither do people.

- You're delusional, kid. Why would angels want to do that? - His skeptical look is surprisingly penetrating.

But this talk is getting tiresome. I hope it's kindness, not stupidity.

- If I'm not mistaken, God has left this world. Not dead, gone. - That's an important clarification. - So the elder rules in heaven, and after his brother's murder he will rule everywhere.

- Even if this is true, which I highly doubt, what can we ordinary people do?

- Almost nothing, just a few little things: seal the gates of hell forever and the same with heaven. And if the demons are locked in hell, the feathered ones will fall and most of them will lose their powers. But you can do something about that, too.

- I don't think it's that simple. - Bobby said, visibly tense, instantly assessing the prospect. I could tell by his eyes that he was interested.

Makes sense, because what I'm proposing is, in effect, the end of a large-scale war.

That would just be a small fight between two superpowered brothers, and half the planet would be blown apart. Pfft.

- There's just one little problem. The one who closes the Gates of Hell is going to die, so all we need is a fanatic volunteer willing to sacrifice himself. You know one?

- Just that? Can I have some details?

- Yes," I answered graciously, and began the story.

A little background, a few characteristics of the murky personalities involved in this madness, like God, archangels, Metatron. Mentioned a couple of ancient artifacts like tablets. And finally he told us about tests waiting for our future kamikaze.

- And you think the hardest thing is to find a volunteer? - After a while, thoughtfully asked Bobby, scratching his long unshaven cheek.

- Yes, because not many people want to kill themselves voluntarily in a dubious ritual. I'll help with the rest. We'll be done in about twelve hours.

- You came all the way from a parallel world to save us? - The irony in his question was pervasive.

- Uh, no. - I ignored the pitying old man's tone and answered truthfully. - Kill some pagan gods, collect angelic iron, steal a few artifacts, and have some fun. To be completely honest, I wasn't even going to get into all that "high politics", but I couldn't resist. So decide, are you in or are you out?

Why so easy? I did a little brainwashing for him. Nothing serious, I just made his subconscious believe me, and then his conscious mind joined in.

And then a few dozen more questions on and off the subject followed. All sorts of clarifications, planning, and a few hours later Singer started looking for a volunteer.

He wanted to do it himself, but I had to talk him out of it, because I don't know what will happen to his soul. I didn't tell him that, of course. I don't need his moral turmoil, and I have enough of my own.

When the world is on the brink of destruction, people are surprisingly quick to make decisions. So the next morning, Jeremy Kelso, no longer a young hunter who'd lost his whole family to demons, was slashing a harmless hellhound I'd brought back from Hell with an angel blade.

A goddamn animal. Him, not me.

Before Jeremy could wash off the blood, I dragged him to Hell to save the soul of a righteous man. There's three of them around every corner now.

Reapers in this world have lost all fear, everyone's trying to get the biggest piece. It's the only way to trade souls.

Kelso got a soul, and I got the first demon we could find.

Well, so do we, Jeremy. I got my own stuff to do.

Finding a Nephilim wasn't hard. A lot of angels on Earth have tasted the forbidden fruit. Problem is, they're all just little kids.

It's not like I'm some kind of snake-headed schmuck fighting babies. So I went around and ripped my heart out. I was a little bit nervous, so I went around and ripped my own heart out, and I had no desire to do it again.

I was kind of a nephilim, too, and most likely with signs of masochism.

Suddenly it worked, and that was the hardest part.

Taking a bow from a cherub and grace from an angel was nothing to me.

So I'm waiting for Marduk the Two-Headed Axe to do the job.

A few hours later Jeremy finished.

He made it, went all the way, knowing he was going to die and possibly lose his immortality. Man!

Just moments after the ritual was completed, tens of thousands of possessed across the planet began writhing in agony. All the demons were forcefully dragged back to Hell.

A divine exorcism, senseless and merciless, but it did its job.

The whole world seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

For a short time, a few seconds of calm were interrupted by a meteor shower.

The meteorites were birds of prey that had fallen from the sky.

I don't know what Bob saw, but I was directly in charge. I chose which gates to close to whom, and for how long.

The choice was not difficult - Everything, for everyone and forever!

I left only one condition. To go in yes, but to go out no more. A bit ironic and somewhere even cruel, because only a few, including Michael, had wings left.

Human souls can get in and out, that's what the heavens were designed to do at the time of their creation.

The angels fell for a few minutes, but Bobby and I had time to drink some beer and admire the spectacle.

- Is it over? - Singer asked, finishing his bottle.

- Not quite...

After grabbing a few things I needed, I moved to the place in the Sahara where Gabriel was punching my face. It was time to begin executing the penultimate item in the plan, under the telling title "Apocalypse to Apocalypse.

Now is the time to reveal another idea of mine to the world. It came to my mind one winter, dark, cold evening last world.

At that time I was still relatively weak, not quite adequate, and afraid of every rustle, for much knowledge is much sorrow. Knowing the future is not always fun.

So, concentrating, I tapped into the angel radio. I was immediately stunned by the panicked cries of the terrified birds.

What? How? Why? Like babies!

- "OmnipotentisDeipotestateminvoco, omnipotentisDeipotestateminvoco, abrogoterra, hocangeloruminobsequentum, Domineexpuere, Domineexpuere, undeabeoDeiper..." - I yelled an angelic exorcism to the fullest extent of my mental capabilities, and I have a shitload of them and a little more.

And everyone, from the smallest to the largest, that is, from the cherub to the seraphim, left their vessels and in a friendly crowd went back to heaven, where they will now sit until the end of the world. And with them those who did not find vessels.

Over there, they're welcome, but back to our sinful earth, no way.

- Bite me, you feathery freaks, mankind made you! - I mumbled one last time and passed out.

I could still make fun of him, but a few "reasons" were about to arrive that made me choose such a deserted place.

I had hoped that Michael would go to Heaven and stay there, but that was not the case. That would have solved a lot of problems.

It wasn't hard to track me, I was strong as hell.

Lucifer was looking for me anyway, and Michael was smart enough to know that the creature reading the exorcism on live angelic broadcasts had something to do with what had happened.

They appeared almost at the same time.

Shining, wings outstretched, angry faces-just the way it should be.

The calm desert, under the pressure of their combined power, turned into a rippling sea of sand in a matter of seconds. The high dunes became gigantic waves that began their run from the place where the pair of archangels stood to the horizon.

Heavy thunder clouds began to fill the clear sky, the first flashes of lightning and peals of thunder could be heard.

A cold, piercing to the bone wind began to blow. The first drops of rain fell to the ground. For the first time in centuries in the desert came a thunderstorm, slowly but surely growing into a hurricane.

I had to throw off my cloak and let go of my power completely. For to hold back was like death. I must say that it was very pleasant.

A simple sweep of my arm and a five meter wave of sand weighing several hundred tons goes sideways.

It wasn't an attack by evil archangels, a simple coincidence.

And so we froze at the same distance from each other. It was a stalemate, for there was no trust between the brothers, and they didn't know me at all. To attack first was to set my back.

The original plan was to watch them fight from afar. I even thought of sitting somewhere on the moon with popcorn and a powerful telescope. But having given up on absorbing Lucifer, I couldn't help but think about squeezing all the grace out of him. And if I did, his brother would suffer the same fate.