Until The End Of Time

"Please... Master, please! Don't walk away, don't do this!"

Kye pleaded on all fours, ignoring the dirty, wet ground and the murky water rising around her knees and elbows. The rain was getting heavier with each passing minute. Her dress, which had once been white, was now a questionable color and soaked through. Her whole body shook, the thin fabric offering little warmth. Long locks of dirty brown hair clung to her face. Dark circles had formed under her bloodshot, puffy eyes.

Kye had not slept for four days, ever since Michael had ordered his men to remove her from the loft and take her to the warehouse.

The place had once been a prison for the "damned souls"—people Michael deemed worthless or problematic to society. Kye had always suspected it had just been his excuse to build a playhouse. Sure, most of the humans taken there had been criminals, but Michael was not God. It was not up to him to pass judgment. Since the archangel had lost interest in the warehouse for the most part, it had, once again, become abandoned—until Kye had been taken there.

January was usually the worst month of the year, with bitter cold and nonstop rain. It ranged from drizzles to heavy showers that could last for days. Because of that, Ayham was often flooded, especially in Eastwick Alley, where they were all standing—the part of the city that nobody gave a shit about.

They had been waiting in front of a large opening leading into the city's sewage tunnels. It was a complicated system in which anyone could get lost, except for the people who called it home. The Resistance had been using the tunnels to commute right under the angels' noses ever since the War.

A group of six men surrounded Kye while they waited for the exchange to happen. She stared at the man in front of her. He had not looked at her once since they had arrived.

The rain was falling hard. Michael checked his watch, then looked up at the sky. He searched for signs of Heaven, but as usual, all he could see were gray clouds and the occasional flash of lightning.

The rain made it difficult for him to open his eyes. Human meatsuits had their limitations, but Michael needed this one. It was adequate. Without it, he was just light and energy floating around, too huge and too intense for this world.

"Did I do the right thing, Father?"

Michael tilted his head, not expecting an answer.

***

Some people said the War had turned the world upside down, but in Kye's opinion, the problems had already existed long before that. The War had just magnified them a thousandfold. People like her, her folks, and their neighbors were nothing more than pieces in a shitty board game designed by Fate.

Twenty years ago—a blink of an eye—the Hosts of Heaven had decided to reveal themselves and carry out God's Judgment Day.

No one could confirm whether it had been an order from God, but everyone had tasted—more like endured—a whole three-course meal of heavenly wrath. The War had lasted for three years. To Earth's credit, its inhabitants had put everything on the line for a counterattack, but apparently, the latest and most destructive weapons mankind had ever created had been no match for what Heaven had to offer.

In those short three years, a pandemic and then famine had also struck, wiping out half of Earth's population. The angels' original plan had been to hit a big reset button, but after a long debate, they had somehow settled for "leave half for reeducation." Call it mercy, or luck. Humankind was expected to feel grateful enough to obey whatever the angels dished out afterward. After all, the inferior kind had been blessed with a chance to redeem themselves.

Kye had failed to see the difference between that and immediate death, but she had been "grateful." At least there had been no lack of food, clean water, or medical care. She had been selected to serve a master in Aax District, the place where all Ayham City Council officials, humans and angels alike, lived.