God's Gone AWOL

[8] Giant Bat Attack!

Heaven.

"Why are we here?"

Atticus and Nathaniel stood side by side, gazing out at the Earth from the most beautiful place in all of Heaven —Heaven's End. Even though he had been liberated from the confines of the interrogation room, his wrists were still bound together by the same dreaded cords. It was nice to escape from the closed-off space for a while, but Atticus knew that no matter what the reason behind this temporary excursion was, it couldn't be anything good.

"Because I want you to take a look at what's below you," Nathaniel told him, "You've been down on that dying rock for so long, when was the last time you stepped back and took a look from above?"

Looking at that "dying rock", Atticus blinked slowly. The Earth had certainly seen better days, but it was still full of life. Even if the green land masses had faded to brown, and millions of spiky satellites buzzed around the globe like flies, it was still the Earth, as it had always been. After a moment of gazing at it, Atticus turned away.

"I've long since learned not to look at things from above," he replied, "I'm an equal part of existence, so I can't bear to think of myself as anything better,"

"Oh Atticus, you know that isn't true," Nathaniel said, sounding very much like a human parent consoling its child. "Nothing in this world is made equal. Just take a look around you!"

What was around him? Atticus' gaze followed Nathaniel's uncharacteristically dramatic gesture to the wide open space of Heaven's End. Was Atticus supposed to be looking at something spectacular? Because all he could see was a bunch of fancy architecture and gleaming white columns. It was the same place he had dwelt in for over ten-thousand years.

However, Nathaniel didn't pick up on the numbness of Atticus' emotions —or maybe he just didn't care. Either way, he continued speaking as if his words had any effect.

"We angels have always needed something or someone to follow," he started his speech, "Ever since God vanished, we've tried to handle things on our own, but like you said, Heaven has lost its priorities as of late. Perhaps if— when you help us get rid of the eyesore that is Hell, there could be a job opportunity opening up for an angel like yourself.

"Just think of the reputation you would have. Angels would be delighted to see someone like you in a place of power. With me by your side, you and I could restore everything to its proper state of —what did you call it?— goodness and light,"

Well at least someone had been listening to Atticus' rant earlier. However, the charming words of Nathaniel still had little effect on him. As he let out a weary sigh, Atticus was almost tempted to smile in contempt. However, in a situation like this, Nathaniel didn't even deserve the slightest bit of satisfaction.

In the past, there was always a certain method of fighting that brought Atticus an indescribable amount of grief. The bloody slashes of hand-to-hand combat, the clashing of blades and the reckless flurries of vicious spells —that was nothing to him. He was a nameless and cold-blooded soldier from the ranks of Heaven and he knew it. So there was only one way of fighting that he had always been defeated by.

Words.

Bentley and her words. They were always the most dangerous trap of all. In the past, when faced with the choice between one thousand hours on the brutal and bloody battlefield, or a twenty-minute argument with Bentley Hellbourne, he would chose the former without an ounce of hesitation. At least in a physical fight, he knew how to defend himself. But back in the good old days, he was so afraid of words that he didn't realize just how easy it was to harness their power.

Well now he knew. He knew better than anyone.

"You believe that because I can harness the power of God's soul, I'm meant to lead Heaven somehow?" he asked calmly.