Descent of The Watchers

by D S S Atkinson

in a moment of silence.

  “You would see your species held beneath slavery and tyranny for all of time, so long as it merely survives?”

  “We watchers are not bound by such things, Mi-”

  “Listen to me, watcher!” Zebub cowered at Michael’s sudden outburst, retreating slightly towards the lines of his kin. “I have listened to Azazel’s logs. We malakhim were slaves on our home world and so too would we have been upon this one, until our lifespan expired, our duty finished, and we were replaced by some other genetic monstrosity. How I have been so blind for so long, truly believing myself to be a righteous entity, yet we are treated no different to the nephilim and these humanoid creations your kin has plagued this unique star with. They are a disease, they will destroy this world.”

  “What are you saying, Michael?” The high-malakhim sighed heavily.

  “Have the watchers released. Everyone, you are dismissed, but you, Zebub. You will remain.” Zebub backed away from Michael as his set was escorted from the enormous chamber, once they were sealed within Michael began to pace about the room. “Without your set, Zebub, the seraphim has nothing. Their intentions to dominate this world and all which we create on it are void, and yet, you too would be slaves should you stand up against them. You would be forced.”

  “If this is such a grave concern of yours, Michael,” the watcher spoke in hushed tones. “Why do you stand with a seraphim who seeks to terminate this creation, to leave Eden, our only chance at life?”

  “I do not stand with any seraphim, Zebub.” Michael spoke freely yet the watcher continued to whisper.

  “If you were to stand against them you would be dead!”

  “And what, Zebub,” the malakhim stopped his pacing, he turned to look at the watcher, “what if they were already dead?” Zebub looked about the room with panic strewn across his face.

  “Do not speak of such things, Michael. I shudder to imagine, there would be wide spread panic amongst Heaven, there would be no order!”

  “I saw what life truly was upon our home world, watcher, what it was to produce it, to protect it... To destroy it. Yet I saw that it flourished, despite the seraphim’s greatest efforts to suppress it, to dominate and control it.”

  “Why should I trust you, Michael? You killed my set before my eyes!” The plump male became flustered. Michael sensed the being’s helplessness.

  “They were facades, Zebub. Just as Yahweh is, to create fear amongst your kind.” The watcher shook his head, he looked lost.

  “You... you lie.”

  “On our home world, watcher, when a tyrannical leader sought the destruction of an innocent enemy, and that innocent enemy believed their own kin were being slaughtered, two problems were resolved at once. The enemy fled and the tyrant believed they were victor. I myself could sleep with a clear conscience. You were that innocent enemy, Zebub, though you cannot see it. Stand with me, watcher, stand against Heylel. Stand against a tyranny that will not end, upon this world nor any other until we are free of the seraphim.”

  “I cannot.” The watcher whimpered. Michael turned away, a feeling of emptiness gripped his will, he felt the fuel driving his pursuit draining with each passing moment.

  “Such a disappointment you are, Zebub. You watchers are the stars in the night sky, a vision of never diminishing excellence, yet still you cannot see you are merely imprisoned there.”

  “Please, Michael, there is still hope. The seraphim will see our species develop through these humanoids, Heylel is not as you speak him to be, he will see our kind’s future secured if only you will grant him a chance,” still Michael did not look at the watcher. “If, if he still lives.”

  “If he is not already deceased from the wound I gave him, the destination of the death probe, or what thrives in his lungs, then my malakhim will most certainly finish my work. His fate is sealed.”

  “His lungs? What do you speak of, Michael?”

  “Since our departure from Eden, when the first watchers returned and the experiments started, I began poisoning Heylel with Eden’s air, for a final moment. Our return to the planet. It was necessary to justify the destruction of the experiments, if they believed contact with a humanoid had caused his death Heaven’s entire population would have supported the idea, but, he was stronger than we ever could have imagined. His set is a marvel. However, his actions at least were enough to earn himself the death penalty, with our ship’s entirety still believing seraphim Yahweh lives, our kind’s future is secure. We will be that future. Our sets living free from the seraphim’s grip without being used whilst alive and discarded once dead, merely for the seraphim’s own gain. How can you not see?” Zebub sighed.

  “I fear I do see, Michael. I see that you live for this very moment in time, but I, I live for the future, for the prospect of creation, the advancement of our species but I do see. I see that my life is indeed... nothing.”

  “No, watcher, life is all we have. Walk with me, I wish to show you something.” Michael raised an arm to usher Zebub towards a walkway outside the detainment depot. On approach the black doors slid silently apart and they made way into Heaven’s barren gangways. The corridors were empty as Michael lead his kin towards the seraphim’s chamber. “I hope together our sets may colonise this world, and perhaps someday find a way for our species to live freely upon its soils and breath its air as our own. Have you listened to Azazel’s logs, watcher?”

  “I have not had a chance,” Zebub replied, his eyes darted nervously between his company and Heaven’s black walls.

  “The seraphim’s nature is riddled into the DNA of these experiments. They are already doomed.”

  “Doomed or not, Michael, do they not deserve a chance?” Reaching the pinnacle of Heaven the beings stepped into their destination.

  “No, Zebub. There is no life in their existence. They seek only to dominate, to destroy, their kind will know only war and barbarity for as long as it lives. They will become a virus to this world, and destroy it as we did our own. I will free them from their pain, as I free our sets, watcher.” The huge entity gestured about the room watching different images of coordinates become enhanced, exposing the sites of enormous structures and dwellings.

  “Michael?”

  “Witness the end of this pestilence, Zebub, and a new beginning for our own kind.” The images of the abandoned humanoid settlements became engulfed. Eden quaked beneath tremendous clouds of fire spouting high into the sky. Violent tremors shook through the terrain below pulsating wild winds across Eden’s landscapes. Structures were immediately levelled as brimstone fell back to the earth.

  “What have you done, Michael?” Zebub stood stricken, staring at the malakhim whose gaze rest firmly upon the destruction all about them.

  “I have granted life to us all, watcher, not just those who think themselves worthy of such a gift.”

   

  14.

  Heavy vibrations pulsed through Samyaza, bright burning lights confused her slumber until she reared backwards, whimpering in fear for belief she was back upon the surface of Mount Hermon amidst a burning wreckage. The commander flinched as she collided with Heylel. The seraphim stood staring through the death probe’s translucent interior. “What is it, Heylel?” The small craft began to judder again. Far upon the horizon more luminous lights caused Eden to tremble.

  “They appear to be detonations of some sort, Yaza.” With his words the death probe’s interior lit up. Power surged through its systems, captured by the vessel’s shell.

  “It is radiation. What is Yahweh doing? It is deadly to all life.” A vast wall of dust rumbled out of the ground blowing past the death probe, it rocked the small ship troubling Samyaza’s footing. “Help me, Heylel, if we absorb enough perhaps we can get air born.” Faint eruptions continued to hum in Samyaza’s ears whilst she worked away at the control panels, a few times she glanced at her seraphim but the towering being seemed entranced. She pondered as she worked, what hope is there now? Scarcely an Eden day had passed sin
ce she had entered the Ark, how high her hopes had been in that moment, and how lost they were now.

  “Something comes, commander.” Commander, she could not recall a time when he had not addressed her by name.

  “Secure yourself, Heylel, I will attempt to stabilise the craft, if its legs are unbroken.” The entity did as she requested without comment. He rest slumped, bound to a control panel. “From which direction do you see-” Turning her head Samyaza stopped, through the thick smog basking Eden’s countryside masses of dim lights were visible in the sky. Samyaza watched them for much time until it became obvious from their distinct flair patterns and silhouettes that the crafts were ophanim. Samyaza worked away at the death probes limited control panel in efforts to turn on any possible communication devices.

  “What if they seek to be rid of us, Samyaza?”

  “You are a seraphim, they would not disobey you.”

  “They obey Yahweh, they are not afraid to inflict wounds.” The enormous seraphim ran a webbed hand up the cauterized scar upon his abdomen before their gazes met, Samyaza slowly shook her head, her desperation hidden beneath her bronze visor. At once she worked at the panels in efforts to gain control over the probe’s movements. She fiddled tirelessly with the intricate system, pressing at symbols and levers until a judder wracked the small ship.

  Samyaza gazed down below the