by Pottle, Bill
Lucifer advanced forward, with open palms, letting Azazel see his body. His sash was gone and his robe parted in a “V” shape that exposed his muscular chest. “There is no need to fear me. I have rejected the poisonous energy of God that sustained me before in favor of a new, more potent energy.” He ruffled his wings so that Azazel could see. Lucifer’s new wings were jet black and sleek. The feathers had all been replaced with skin. They protruded out from his back and curved down around his body. The tips gleamed with
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razor edges. His armor now simmered a deep red. Strange, twisted shapes adorned it.
Azazel ignored the comment about God, intrigued in spite of himself. “New energy? What energy could possibly sustain us?”
“I have found it myself. No doubt God wanted it hidden from us so that we could not unleash its awesome power.”
“What is this energy?”
“The power comes from focusing intently on wrongs committed against all of us. I call the new energy Heaven’s alternate transforming energy.”
Azazel blinked, a bit perturbed. “Fascinating. What has it done to you?”
“It has transformed me. It is an internal energy rather than an external one. If we rely on ourselves we will be stronger than if we rely only on the whims of God.”
“Independence does not always equate with strength,” Azazel mused. “Have you tested yourself using this new energy, this…what was it called again?”
“Heaven’s alternate transforming energy. I shall just call it HATE for short.” Lucifer seemed pleased with the acronym. He was the first one to feel this emotion and he enjoyed the power it gave him.
“Have you tried to measure whether you are still strong using this ‘hate’ to fuel yourself rather than God’s power?” Azazel was skeptical. “You look strong enough, but perhaps your power is less than you feel.”
Lucifer’s sword sang as it whipped out of its sheath and burned through the air towards Azazel’s neck. Azazel barely had time to bring his own sword up to block it. Lucifer shifted his attack and thrust the sword forward. Azazel spun out of the way, but not before Lucifer’s blade had taken off a piece of Azazel’s blond hair. The severed lock floated to the floor.
Lucifer resheathed his crimson bladed sword. Azazel noticed that the jewel in the pommel had lost its bright glare. The dragon’s tail unwrapped from his hand as Lucifer removed his hand from the hilt and spoke. “There are not many angels in Heaven who could have blocked that.”
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Azazel pursed his lips. “You’ve made your point, at least.”
“I haven’t begun to make my point!” Lucifer was about to say more, then checked himself. “I’ve come here for a special reason. I have another purpose besides showing you the strength of hate.”
“And what is that?”
“I’ve come here to ask you to do your job.”
“My job?” Azazel’s silver feathers ruffled. “No one is perfect, but I have not rested while my duties call me.”
“I am not questioning your commitment.” Lucifer held up a hand in defense to Azazel’s icy glare. “No one could reasonably do that. I am only questioning the things that you have never questioned before. You swore to protect Heaven, did you not?”
Azazel did not move. “You know that I did.”
“Then your duty must be to protect Heaven— not only her physical borders, but her prestige, her importance in all of Creation. You must protect her from all enemies, inside and out.”
“What are you saying?”
“Azazel.” Lucifer looked right into his eyes. “You know as well as I do that these little rebellions and border infringements are no real threat to Heaven. With such a capable head of the Powers as you, there is no way that they could bring us down.”
Azazel nodded. It was all too true. They were an annoyance, nothing more.
“But there is another threat to us. A threat worse than anything we have faced before. A threat with the real potential to relegate Heaven to nothing more than a has-been world. A threat to enslave us all. Yes, by now surely you must know what I am speaking of. If God’s plan for the humans succeeds, angels will be little more than slaves, forced to cater to the humans' every wish. I, for one, will not stand by and watch this happen!”
“What will you do? Will you go against God? Assuming that you even tried, how could you possibly hope to achieve success?”
Lucifer’s voice was soothing. “I have a plan that cannot fail. But that is not your concern. Surely there is no harm in just learning to use this new hate. I came to you first because I believe you are one of the strongest. Others may not be able to handle this new power. Surely you trust me…”
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Azazel raised an eyebrow. There had been a time, once, when he did…
They were all seated together, facing outwards so that they could detect any threat. Though they couldn’t block them completely, the rebels had long since learned to shield their thoughts from the other angels enough so that if the eavesdroppers weren’t very close or very powerful, their chatter would be lost in the noise of thousands of angels conversing about everyday life.
Or, so they thought.
Lucifer watched them, amused. He was concealed behind a tree, waiting for the perfect time to make his appearance.
“There must be some way to harness this new hate,” Verin was saying. “We must act without delay before the other angels learn of it.” Since Lucifer had gone to see Azazel, angels seemed to talk of little else.
“But how will we learn to use it? We need someone to show us the way.” Zebub was at a loss for suggestions. Although still full of pride, as the revolution wore on, he became increasingly ineffective as a leader. Frustrated at every turn by Luciferel, Michael, and Azazel, he had gradually begun to lose his confidence.
“Well, we can’t just sit here talking about it!” Verin stood up. Several of the other angels in attendance nodded and pursed their lips. It was obvious to Lucifer that their confidence in their leader was slipping too. While they had been caught up in initial excitement at the idea of revolting and taking over Heaven at first, after thinking things through more carefully, even the most optimistic had to admit that Zebub’s plan was going to fail. New recruits hadn’t shown up like they were expecting, and their number had dwindled to just a handful.
“I’m sure that we can learn to use hate as Lucifer did, and it is obvious that we need to.” Kasadya spoke in even, measured tones. His black hair was close cropped and his face smooth and clean cut. His words were always carefully considered and logical. “We will not win by following our current course of action.”
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Belial, a sullen Virtue who spent more time mumbling than talking, sat hunched over near a rock. “It’s hopeless. Your plan has doomed us all, Zebub.”
“Perhaps if we could find Lucifer and force him to teach us how to use it,” Zebub mused, ignoring Belial.
“Hah! Force Lucifer to teach us?” Verin thrust his fist in the air. “You overestimate our power, Zebub, as always. We’re no match for a Seraph and you know it.” The other angels nodded, disgusted with Zebub’s pitiful idea. “Whatever the case, we need to go out and do something! It’s not like we’re going to learn about hate just sitting around here.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, my friend.” Everyone jumped at the voice. The angels whirled, amazed to see the new Lucifer standing in their midst. Within seconds, several blades were out and all pointed towards Lucifer, whose sword was still comfortably resting in its sheath. The rest of the angels shrank back fearfully.
Lucifer laughed, a sound very unlike the laughter the angels were used to hearing. “You need not fear me, my friends. I call you friends because that is indeed what you are. While I hunted you before, I realize that it is I who was wrong to trust in God. Yes, I can admit
that I was wrong because it is the truth. The truth is a concept unknown to God. He will cover up his plans and speak nothing of them for fifteen billion years, and then expect us to follow blindly while he betrays us. So yes, my friends, I was wrong to trust in God.”
The swords dropped slightly, their owners still regarding Lucifer warily. No one spoke for a minute, and then one angel said what was on everyone’s mind.
“How can we trust you? We all know of this new energy you have talked about, and we can see that you look different, but it could be a trick.” Dahaka shifted his blue eyes around, straining to find the other loyalists that he was sure were hiding nearby, ready to pounce once they let their guard down.
“This is no trick,” Lucifer said. “But you are right not to trust. Trust has been given too freely in the past. Instead of blindly following what another says, you must think. Yes, use your own mind to come to conclusions! You all saw me when I meant to perish. You saw the
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weakness in my body before I learned to use hate. I was the discoverer of this potent new power. What is more, you all have heard God’s plan firsthand. It is plain to see that this is madness. ”
“Your point is clear,” Kasadya admitted. “And we must learn hate. No one knows about it better than you.” He looked at Verin, who still looked skeptical. “It seems as if we must ask for your help if we are to succeed.”
Zebub looked at Lucifer like asking for his help was the last thing he wanted to do. “I still say we could figure it out for ourselves…” he muttered.
“But he will be able to teach us the fastest and get us ready to continue our war.” Verin was excited. “Lucifer, you are the best one to help us.”
Lucifer gave a mirthless half laugh. “I did not come here to help you.”
The startled looks returned to several angels’ faces. Swords came up once more.
“I came here to get you to help me.”
Suddenly nearly everyone was talking at once, arguing and shouting. Only Zebub remained quiet, waiting for the commotion to subside. Lucifer guessed he must be weighing if the other angels had allegiance to him, to the idea of opposing God, or to combat itself.
“This is my army,” he reminded them above the hubbub. The angels quieted. “We have all fought together. It does not matter what you were before, with God. You have no right to come here and tell us what to do.”
“Combat!” Abbadon shouted from the back. “This must be settled in combat. Let them fight, and the winner will earn our allegiance.” Several angels murmured their agreement.
“I have no intention of slaying Zebub. Surely, that is what will happen if we fight.” Lucifer replied, still not the least bit perturbed. His voice betrayed no hint of the precarious position he was in, surrounded by angels loyal to his opponent and lusting for a fight. Yet, was the rebel Seraph really in any danger from ones such as these? “Zebub was one of the first to recognize God’s treachery. For
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that he will always have a special place. His destiny is not destruction from my blade.”
“You refuse to fight him and still ask for our help?” Abbadon’s dark face glowed with rage. He shook his hand in the air. “Why should we help you?”
“First of all,” Lucifer fixed Abbadon with an icy glare, “I do not refuse to fight him or anyone else here. Even you, Abbadon. I will fight you if you wish. I can destroy everyone here, without so much as drawing my blade.”
Abbadon seethed and brought his hand to his sword, but it took all his control to not rush at Lucifer. His body language showed that he knew it was all too true. Lucifer was more than a match for all of them.
The tension relaxed as Abbadon visibly backed down, and Lucifer continued. “Our numbers are small enough already. I do not think that it will benefit anyone except the other side if we fight amongst ourselves. You will transfer your allegiance to me, and in gratitude I will bestow on Zebub a new name in recognition of his service. Henceforth, he will be known as Lord Zebub, or Baal Zebub if you prefer.”
The angels looked around at Zebub to see what he would do. Did he really have any choice? Yet, knowing him, Lucifer had appealed to his pride. Zebub would very much like to be called lord from now on. He nodded his agreement.
Lucifer was satisfied, so he continued. “Now, as my first act as your leader, I have the one thing that you have been lacking from the beginning. I have one thing that holds the key to our victory.”
“And what is this thing that you have?” Verin asked.
“A plan. A realistic way to defeat God.” Lucifer said it with such confidence that every last angel there knew it would work.
Although Lucifer boasted of his plan, there didn’t seem to be much change to the revolutionaries’ tactics. They still set out to kill as many angels as they could, for that is what sending an angel into the
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Containment had become known as. At that time, many wondered if Lucifer’s plan was any different than Baal Zebub’s original plan had been. Yet, somehow, Alizel knew that Lucifer had something more dangerous up his sleeve. He had to. Even though he was now fueled by hate, he always had been one of the most competent, well informed, and intelligent angels in Heaven.
One thing that did change was the effectiveness of the tactics. Lucifer himself led many of the attacks, and no place in Heaven was safe. Over the next few weeks, hundreds of angels were ambushed and killed. The rebels always struck quickly, attacking small groups of unarmed angels and making short work of them. Through it all, God stayed silent, not bringing His power to bear to end the conflict. Alizel didn’t have the slightest idea why He would do such a thing.
Azazel had remained in charge of the defense, and the loyalists were glad for it. It was common knowledge that Lucifer had come to tempt him, but he had not gone over to Lucifer after their meeting, instead redoubling his efforts to make Heaven safe. As the attacks began to increase, he called another meeting of the Angelarch.
“My friends,” he spoke somberly, drained but still confidant. “As you know, the situation in Heaven has become dire. I do not need to tell you this. You can hear it in the screams that echo from our beloved Zion.”
No one spoke, so Azazel continued.
“The time has come to say what we have feared. But in order to act, we must first all recognize that we are no longer fighting a simple rebellion. We can no longer go about our daily business. We are now in a state of all out war, and we must act accordingly.”
Azazel was simply telling everyone what they already knew, but the audience still wept to hear it. Alizel noticed Uriel wiping away tears from his large brown eyes, the uncertainty of the future eating at him. It was the first time Alizel remembered ever being scared for the future, the first time he ever really wondered if they would survive.
“We must organize.” Michael’s brilliant white wings seemed to shine with the assertion from his voice. A faint glimmer of hope shivered through Alizel’s sad heart from seeing the Seraph’s
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confidence. If anyone should be worried, it would be Michael or Azazel. After all, unless God intervened, it would be one of those two who would have to end up facing off against Lucifer. There had not been an election or anything official to name Michael as the leader after Lucifer defected, but there had also been no opposition. Most angels knew that there could be no other way. Everything from the way he carried himself to the way the dragon on his breastplate glimmered to the way his sword rested in its sheath declared that Michael was made to command.
“They have been able to pick us off because they have been attacking lone, vulnerable angels,” he said. “This in itself shows their weakness. They must sit back and pick off soft targets, for they do not dare face us openly.”
A ruby-haired Power named Verchiel spoke up. “What can you tell us about the true str
ength of the insurgency?” Unceasingly loyal, Verchiel was Azazel’s second in command. He had a moustache and goatee that met together around the ends of his mouth, and was rarely seen without a smile on his lips. It seemed strange to see someone with such a friendly nature dressed in armor from head to foot like Azazel. Verchiel’s affable nature extended only to those who had not turned their back on God, however. Alizel had seen him fight only once, and that was enough for him to be very glad that Verchiel had remained loyal.
