Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1)

by Suggs, Lester

  "Metatron?" Michael thought with raised eyebrows. "Really? How did you come to —“

  Gabriel cut him off. "A terrified Angel, Sophrael, when delivering the summons.”

  It was Michael's turn to be short and direct. "Do not repeat that to anyone else. It would be her end."

  Retreating into his own mind, Gabriel imagined Michael knew more about the inner sanctums of Angel hierarchy. He deleted the entry, removing it from his external memories.

  "If Metatron is there to transplace you this must be important within or without our realm,” Michael commented after another long pause. “I’m aware of both Spark and the Banthid. The Spark are cognitive and ego neutral — they are on a path of co-mergence. The Banthid, of the three sentient species, are the most cognitive aware. Their last message is still being judged, clearly too soon for more instruction."

  "Then the humans again?" Gabriel asked aloud.

  "We both know the humans — a lost, diverse, consuming mix of individuals whom rarely come together. The consensus is two of the seven past messages have been completely lost among them.”

  “Agreed,” Gabriel added. "Time is drawing short, I must comply soon.”

  "Do you want me to be there?" Michael asked.

  Gabriel could feel the familiar warmth pour from Michael, but he would not allow another Archangel to witness his transplacement. Gabriel had no idea how he would appear at the moment of change. He didn't need another detail to worry over, but he was grateful for Michael.

  "No, Michael, thank you. This time with you is fortitude enough. You have given me reason when I had none.”

  Michael nodded and put his left hand upon Gabriel’s right giving added meaning to his thoughtfulness.

  "Gabriel, are you in order within this realm?” Michael asked.

  "Yes, before I came to meet you, I put my belongings in order.”

  Michael sat back across the long bench. "You blanked your apartment? I was hoping to borrow it in your fashion. You're such a decorator.”

  They laughed.

  "Archangel Gabriel the Decorator. Don’t you dare repeat that,” Gabriel mused.

  "I don't have to,” Michael chuckled.

  Their exchange was at an end, and each stood to leave. Michael turned toward Gabriel and placed his hands on Gabriel's shoulders. Gabriel recognized the formal pose and mirrored Michael's physical gesture. As they looked into each other's eyes, they began to emit light.

  "Gabriel, I'll pray on your transplacement and transformation."

  Passing Angels stopped to watch the two mammoth figures embrace as Michael thought aloud. "Have a safe and successful mission.”

  Each offered a private prayer ending the embrace. Gabriel was refreshed with Michael's friendship and warmth. Now there was work to do. Gabriel cleared his mind, surgically removing all other distractions. The tasks ahead were clear to him. Gabriel reoriented himself and began his walk to the summons. Once he eyed an appropriately deep doorway alcove, Gabriel removed his blue cotton friend and donned the typical gold-trimmed white tunic of the Archangel order. He disposed of his dear old friend, the long-sleeved pullover, and the shoulder bag in a nearby particle resync bin.

  “Apologies, my friend,” Gabriel thought to his disposed pullover as he continued walking. “There will be others.”

  Metatron

  Gabriel cleared his mind for what was about to happen. His focus had to be pointed, centrally clear. Gabriel had to demonstrate a singular willingness of genuine ardor to accept his charge. If any of the Principles picked up a trace of doubt, more questions would be raised than could possibly be answered in a millennium. There used to be more Archangels, but Gabriel couldn't afford to cloud his mind with painful history.

  Gabriel knew all Archangel summons are held under the Dome of the Principles. An open aired dome of pristine white stone three hundred sixty paces across and supported by inner and outer columns, ornately decorated in black and gold symbols, and thirty paces high. The dual row of columns gave a three dimensional effect of depth and quality, typical in Heaven's architecture. He recalled that in the center of the roof was a circular cutout six paces across. The city of Heaven is located on the exact equator of the planet Olympus. And the Dome of the Principles was located in the city's center. As Olympus' Sun reached noon above the city the dome's central opening gives an impressive cast of light under the cover of such a large shadow. So much of Heaven was for effect, Gabriel understood. He never complained. No one complained. And why would they?

  Each summons was witnessed by two lower members of the Principles and one high ranking Praetor. The Praetor would deliver his charge, a given time, and a reason of the gathering. The other two would witness. Gabriel would be asked if he understood and would confirm the transfer of knowledge to his person. All parties would leave. A short delay is given, usually an hour or two, and then the trans-placement would take place on the Field of Dominion. Gabriel's brain would boil, teeth explode, along with his every fabric of physical self. For an instant — Gabriel would wish he were dead. Transformation to energy was always one hundred percent unpleasant.

  From under the first row of radial columns Gabriel saw that Sophrael, the terrified blind messenger, stood in silent witness with the representatives of Principles. Her participation was extraordinary. Gabriel watched Sophrael as he walked along the outer row of columns. More composed than before, she sensed Gabriel's approach and adjusted her stance to face Gabriel, as did the others. Gabriel removed his tunic and dropped it unapologetically to the marble floor. The Praetor nodded his head higher in approval and approached with the others to transfer the orders.

  Each stopped and stood in a tight parameter around Gabriel. He towered over them. Each had to look up to Gabriel. No one approached. The four were waiting for another to join — Metatron. Gabriel looked up to see the dome's center light cast and spread and consumed all shadow from under the dome. Metatron had arrived. Hovering in the center of the dome's cutout, his form was that of a small sun. It was brutally painful to look upon Metatron, and foolish. Gabriel refocused his attention on the four others. The Praetor looked into Gabriel's eyes. Gabriel tightened his jaw slightly and nodded for the Praetor to begin. From where they stood Metatron's sun-like warmth could be felt. Even from this distance, Gabriel’s flesh began to feel uncomfortable.

  As one, the Principles placed their right hands on Gabriel's upper body: the Praetor on Gabriel's heart, the other two placed their right hand on each of Gabriel's shoulders. Sophrael placed her left hand on Gabriel's right pectoral, all in a single practiced movement. Gabriel felt the four channels of thought engage his mind – three lesser and one major presence. The Praetor’s thoughts arrived with authority.

  “Gabriel, Herald of God, you will leave from this place to the Field of Dominion. There you will receive instruction and be transplaced to Earth to deliver God's eighth message. You shall be the last Archangel to Earth. You are charged to take with you a soul of another.” The Praetor did not finish the summons with a question of acceptance. These were orders.

  “The Herald of God obeys,” Gabriel replied. He could feel each of the Principles recite a prayer, but he could not see their prayer’s content. Gabriel felt an unusual emotional reaction from one of the Principles. He looked down at the small messenger Angel to see her weeping tears from her colorless orbs and smiling. Joy poured from her in a gush. Gabriel allowed her love to wash over and through him. He welcomed her love. Her love was complete, uncompromising, raw, unashamed — female. Gabriel wanted to dance within her emotion. Checking his own emotion, he acknowledged her love and accepted it, too. He would not deny her openness. Each of the Principles felt Sophrael's expression of love. The four removed their hands from Gabriel, smiled toward Sophrael, and dispersed in different directions. The summons was over. Gabriel had to report immediately to the field. He looked up to see Metatron wink out without preamble. His light simply imploded and was gone. Out of all the beings in Heaven, Gabriel feared Metatron. On
e of Metatron's duties was to fell Angels — even Archangels.

  Transplacement

  “Balls in buttermilk” Gabriel thought as he watched the others go.

  Gabriel left his tunic where it had fallen. He would not need it now. Gabriel needed nothing from or of this realm. He was about to be burned from the surface of Heaven in the white hot furnace of the Dominion. He pushed the more painful memories of transplacement from his mind and looked towards Himinbjorg, Heaven's Mountain. "I'll have the time it takes to crest the summit before I go, I have that."

  Gabriel walked in the direction of Himinbjorg with purpose. The others were waiting there for him. Gabriel would not accept others waiting on him, especially from the Principles or Dominion.

  Knowing once he arrived on Himinbjorg he would have to refocus his thoughts, Gabriel reviewed his past experiences of his and other Archangel visitations to Beta 4, the universe housing Earth, Gracka, and Partesh. Earth, inhabited by humans, had been given previous copious instruction from God through a myriad of prophets, including himself, with mixed results. Most messages had spun off different religions, each creating versions of itself wherein a few became more militant and divisive. No human entity able to combine the messages into a singular work of God, and the consequences were being measured annually in Heaven.

  Walking under the arch, marking the northern most city boundary, Gabriel continued to review, in limited detail, the past influences on Earth.

  Himinbjorg was the highest point of a range of hills bordering the northern edge of the city. A single trail transversed the range face to the precipice of Himinbjorg. At the peak of the mountain lay an un-named solitary boulder used for prayer and reflection by Angels and Archangels. On the other side of the summit, the trail wound around the opposite side from the city. Dozens of paces below the peak, lie a flat circle, five hundred paces across and covered in the same smooth white stone used for construction in Heaven's only physical city, was carved into the mountain. This flat circle of stone was the Field of Dominion.

  When Gabriel was near the crest of Himinbjorg, he noted the deafening silence in the air and in the mental ether surrounding him. The silence made him slow, like a sahara cat approaching prey. At the crest Gabriel was shocked to find the entire mountain top covered in white. Angels were everywhere. At first, as Gabriel glanced around, his thoughts were of him interrupting another event, then questioning if he were in the right place at the correct time. He backed away not wanting to be embarrassed. But when he looked down upon he Field, he knew all of this was for him.

  At the field's center, Gabriel saw all members of the Principle, dressed in traditional transplacement sleeveless tunics of light diaphanous white. Together, they formed a semicircle Gabriel would enter once he walked onto the center of the field. Sophrael, dressed in a nontraditional overly ornate robe, was standing alone. Gabriel noted her stance and imagined her suffering, but after recalling her waterfall of love and joy, he felt no pity for her. Sophrael didn't need Gabriel's pity when she had the equivalent love of a populous.

  "There is only the now,” Gabriel thought.

  Regrets, second thoughts, and imagined fears, meant nothing in this now. Gabriel repeated an ancient mantra he had used during times of doubt and uncertainty before: "Be here now. In this now there is only Love. In this now and with this love, I am God".

  Gabriel walked to the lone boulder and knelt, cupping hands to ears, invoking his thoughts, "Father, hear me.” Pausing, he continued, "I am your grace, your instrument, your Herald. Hear me.” Bowing his head and clasping his hands together Gabriel felt enabled and humbled to begin his request: "Father, I accept this journey and thank you for selecting me to represent your message. Father, grant me wisdom, purpose, and excellence of character to perform your will. Father, grant me your judgment that I may execute your design. Father, after I have delivered thy charge, I beg of thee, let this vessel live.” Closing Gabriel said aloud, "All is your purpose, Amen.”

  Still shirtless, Gabriel rose from the boulder and walked onto the Field of Dominion.

  "Be here now,” Gabriel mentally repeated his mantra, "In this now there is only Love.”

  Gabriel passed the first of the Dominion Angels, nearly as tall of Gabriel's Archangel class, and massively wide shouldered and thickly muscled head to toe. Their uncovered arms of layered muscle for seemingly no function.

  Not much was know of the Dominion Angels. Word of their deeds seldom reached even the Archangel class. The circle of Dominions closed around Gabriel and he began to make out the background static of their minds. He put their thoughts aside, too. Gabriel had learned on other trans-placements there was no use focusing his attention elsewhere. "In this now and with this love, I am God,” Gabriel worked the mantra within his mind, allowing the words to form meaning.

  As Gabriel turned to face north, he saw her. Urial. She had come to see him off. Gabriel took in her appearance: she was willowy, her long brown-blonde hair danced in the breezes upon the mountain. She wore a smile of acceptance, joy, and love. So much love, Gabriel thought to himself. He turned from her, "Be here now,” the mantra continued.

  Gabriel's concentration ripped to a stop when he realized little more than half the Dominion Angels were present. Taking stock of his immediate surroundings, Gabriel also noted the Dominion Angels should have placed their hands collectively on him by now. But they had not. Something was different.

  As a group, the few Dominion Angels turned to face the crest of Himinbjorg. Gabriel followed their gaze. Two perfect columns of Angels were walking down the slope toward the Field of Dominion. Next in each column were an equal number of the Principles, their gold and black trimmed tunics setting them apart from the common Angels. Behind the Principles came the remaining Dominion Angels. Gabriel's eyes widened as he saw the Dominion Araqiel, Guardian of Earth, crest the mountain, walking between the columns.

  Araqiel stood apart from the physical aspects of the Dominion Angels. His features were unmistakable: long, flowing brown hair, raised cheeks, and not nearly as widened mass as the other Dominions. Floating above Araqiel's leveled left palm was a small, pale blue light — a soul. And for this occasion, Gabriel knew it could only be a human soul.

  As the columns of Angels arrived on the edge of the circular field, they peeled off left and right and walked along the circumference of the field. When the Dominion Angels arrived at the field's edge, they continued into the circle toward Gabriel. As Araqiel entered the circle, a brilliant light came to life behind him. Within a moment, the lesser Angels had to shield their eyes.

  The light grew to twelve feet in diameter and appeared as a miniature Sun. Metatron. By now the Dominion Angels had made their way to the field's center with Gabriel. The Dominion turned and placed their right palms upon Gabriel's naked upper torso and shoulders. Gabriel could sense God's final message flowing from the host of Dominion. Stream after stream of data poured into Gabriel. Sampling each stream, as was allowed, Gabriel could feel the intent of each passage but could not begin to decipher the meaning.

  Gabriel had to squint his eyes from Metatron’s brilliance. He was fighting to hold focus. Between the agonizing streams of data and the burning aura of Metatron, Gabriel felt he was being held together by the powerful Dominion. As Araqiel approached, he turned his left palm from the facing up, to out in front of him as he straightened his arm. The sparkling blue soul remained in position, inches from his palm. Araqiel placed his palm onto Gabriel's right chest, but there was resistance. The soul became trapped between Araqiel's palm and Gabriel's chest.

  Gabriel did not move. Could not move. The soul expanded slightly as it entered into Gabriel's flesh. It was as if a cold stone had been wedged between his heart and lung. The assault on his mind was becoming too much, even for Gabriel. Though he had closed his eyes, Gabriel could sense Metatron’s heat coming closer. His light burning through Gabriel’s eyelids.

  A gleaming right arm sprang out of the blazing Metatron. The hand's fingers exte
nded. Without removing their hands and not breaking the data stream into Gabriel, the Dominion parted, allowing Metatron access to Gabriel's sternum. A booming voice filled the last few feet between Gabriel and the awesome being of Metatron. The voice completely crushed what was left of Gabriel's hold on reality. "GO FORTH. DELIVER GOD'S MESSAGE AND SON.” Metatron's middle finger touched Gabriel's exposed chest. Then, Gabriel was gone.

  The Dream of Sand

  Griffin felt cool, wet sand beneath his feet. It was a grounding satisfying feeling. Thoughts of a long ago vacation came to mind. He looked down to confirm he was standing on a beach. To his left, he saw a small wave race back to the comfort of the sea. The day was bright, sunny, with a few clouds dotting the horizon. A constant breeze tossed his hair across his forehead. Seagulls floated effortlessly on that outgoing wind. He had to squint against the bright sun. The beach stretched on for miles. Thinking of a long walk on such a day gave Griffin a relaxed smile.

  He noticed the first odd attribute to the scene. The sand was a little too orange and the dune to his right was piled high and had a sheer face, perhaps ten feet in height. The sand was literally a wall. Tall grasses grew on top of the manicured dune wall as far as Griffin could see. Next he noticed the almost absolute silence, and that he was alone. Griffin couldn’t recall a moment of dead silence in this age of overlapping signals and eight billion people. He focused and listened. Then, he heard a slight, low pitched noise. Griffin turned his head slowly left and right, seeking to gain some hearing advantage. After a minute of concentration he was convinced the sound was more of a hum. But where was the sound coming from? Turning around, he could see hotels far off in the distance, but he could make out no other signs of life or activity. Griffin tumbled over his realization he didn’t know how he had arrived on this beach or where he had been the moment before.