The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Eighty One Up

[Stuart]

Montmartre Club, Eternal City, Heaven.

The Incomparable Legion of Light was gone. The unit that had been his personal command during The Great Celestial War had been wiped out, literally within the blink of an eye. Michael-Lan knew the destructive power that humans had at their command but this stunned even him. The Incomparable Legion of Light had fought throughout the Great Celestial War right from the first days when Satan had broken into the Eternal City itself. Michael remembered the vicious streetfighting that had taken place, how he had thrown civilians into the battle against the daemonic army in an effort to prevent them taking over the city. Then, The Incomparable Legion of Light had been the only trained body of troops he had. He had used them as a fire brigade, throwing them in piecemeal wherever the daemons had appeared to be breaking through. When the tide of the battle had turned, they had been the spearhead of his attacks that had finally driven The Eternal Enemy out of the city.

Right up to the present, The Incomparable Legion of Light had contained veterans of that desperate battle, ones whom Michael knew by name and recognized of old. Valued old friends whose family Michael knew and loved. Angels who Michael-Lan had knowingly and deliberately sent to their deaths. I am sorry old friends, more sorry than you or anybody else can ever know. Wherever you are, know that you have served Heaven better in your deaths than you did in the battles of The Great Celestial War. Then, you saved The Eternal City, now you have saved the whole of the Angelic Host. It was true, at least Michael knew he was telling himself that. The dreadful blast that had destroyed The Incomparable Legion of Light could just as easily taken place right here. And still might.

"Michael-Lan, the people are frightened." Gabriel-Lan spoke from the room behind Michael's balcony. His own voice was loaded with fear and foreboding. Outside the city was in shadow for the first time in countless millennia. A huge plume of smoke from the fires had darkened the whole city. In its penumbra, the Angelic Host shivered in the streets. The same cloud had cut the temperature quite drastically. Normally, Heaven was a temperate place, the climate warm enough to be comfortable, cool enough to be invigorating. Now, the sky was overcast and the cold was enough to hurt a people unused to it.

Michael-Lan glanced at the thermometer he had mounted on the wall of his balcony. He had bought it on a whim, from one of the open-air markets the humans loved so much. In all the years he had consulted it, the temperature had never changed. Now, it was showing The Eternal City to be almost twenty five degrees cooler than normal. "We have sent people out with Geiger Counters?"

Gabriel-Lan nodded. He didn’t understand what the human boxes that clicked were supposed to do but he had guessed it was important. Michael-Lan had been very insistent that people go around the city and take readings from the boxes, then compare them with charts he had supplied. "Yes Michael. The readings are higher than before but still within the safety zone on the charts. The highest readings were where the frozen water fell. They pushed the upper limit of your charts."

Michael-Lan nodded, almost distantly for his mind was still occupied by the faces and named of The Incomparable Legion of Light. The 'frozen water' Gabriel had referred to was hail. The language of the Angelic Host didn’t really have a wealth of words to describe bad weather since there wasn't any in Heaven. Only, this hail wasn't a natural phenomena, humans had created it just as they had created the great cloud that hung over the city. An area more than 20 miles across was burning where The Incomparable Legion of Light had died and that was the source of the smoke. The fire was still spreading although it was also thinning and dying as it spread. The filthy black-stained pellets of ice that had fallen were a product of that fire.

"Just frightened Gabby?" Michael forced his mind back to business.

"No, Michael, more than that. They are bewildered, apprehensive, confused. Rumors that The Incomparable Legion of Light has been destroyed by the humans are spreading throughout the City. The Host cannot understand what to make of this, they hear the rumors and see the great cloud over our heads but they do not know what they portend. Already rumors spread that the end-days are upon us."

"They are, Gabby. They are. The reign of the Angelic Host is ending." Michael-Lan snorted with laughter. "The prophecies always were that we would bring the end-days to the humans just as we brought them to those who went before. Yet, it is the humans who bring them to us. In the great game of existence, it is the humans who have reached the end row and become crowned."

Michael-Lan looked over the Eternal City in its uncharacteristic dim light. Without the steady glare of Heaven's white light, the myriad precious and semi-precious stones that lined the walls of the innumerable temples and palaces had lost their iridescent glow. Without that, the Eternal City had lost the one feature that made it unique above all others. More than that, without the constant refracted light from the walls, Michael could see the chipped plaster and peeling paint that underlay the superficial gloss. The Eternal City pretended to be Las Vegas but underneath it all, it was more like Atlantic City. The comparison made Michael snort again. I am probably the only person in Heaven who can understand that simile.

"The humans have stepped up their timetable Gabby. I wasn't expecting them to use a nuke this early, or even at all come to that. I knew we would lose The Incomparable Legion of Light but I thought it would be a ground battle, the way they destroyed Abigor's Army. A long battle, lasting several days and one I could exploit to bring about the downfall of Yahweh when all our preparations were in place. Only they tossed that nuke instead and in doing so they told us what they have planned. Where are their armies?"

"Reports from the countryside say that three great armies are assembling around us. One to the north, one to the southwest, and the Americans to the southeast. All advance very slowly while more troops pour in behind their leading edge. The watchers say that their numbers are so great they cannot be counted and that they advance with great numbers of monstrous machines.

"Armored units." Michael spoke almost absently. "They're hitting us with everything they've got. They were taken by surprise when they fought Hell, they went to war with what they had available. This time, they've cast their plans carefully. We're running out of time Gabby. Our hands are being forced, we are going to have to move now. Before those armies are complete and they blast their way into The Eternal City."

Michael stopped took a deep breath and committed himself in a way he had never done before. "Assemble the inner circle in my office for a final briefing. We are go for the coup."

Angelic Treatment Ward, Bethesda Naval Hospital, Bethesda, MD

Maion-Lan-Lemuel woke up with her head aching and her mouth utterly dried out. Beside her, Lemuel noted that she was finally out of the anaesthetic and pressed the button that called the nurse over. In doing so, he was very careful not to push his finger through the wall. Grace Zachariah hurried over and started taking down Maion's medical readings. "How do you feel Maion."

"Thirsty." Maion sounded confused.

"I'm not surprised. We had to pump a lot of medication into you before you went under. We've got some iced water for you, that's all you can have at the moment." She finished taking down the readings and hoped somebody, somewhere could make sense of them. "Your operation went fine, you're wingless now, just like us. There's two small stumps where your wings were. Now, if the records from Memnon are correct, they should be even if they are from an Army hospital, those stumps will heal first. Then, they'll start to grow back into a new set of wings. If this works with you, we'll apply the same treatment to any of our other patients who elect to go through the procedure."

Grace drummed her pencil on the chart, then obviously elected to make a hard decision. "Maion, your drug addiction, it's taking longer to clear out than we thought. Just how many angels up in Heaven use drugs?"

Maion reached into her mind, a mind that was still clouded by the residual anaesthetic from her surgery. "Not many. They are very expensive. To work in Michael's club was the only way I could afford them. He gave them to me as long as I worked for him."
"As a whore." Grace couldn't keep the condemnation out of her voice, try as she did. She had once been an observant Catholic and the early indoctrination was still there. Maion started to cry and that made Grace feel even worse about her outburst. She put that feeling to one side and turned to Lemuel. "And now we come to you. How did you get hooked?"

"I don't know. I didn't know until I came here."

"You never injected anything? Smoked anything?"

Lemuel shook his head. "I took Excedrin or Tylenol sometimes. And drank Gatorade. Reverencing Yahweh made my head hurt and my throat dry. The pills eased my head and the gatorade quenched my thirst."

Grace nodded. There was a reason why nurses asked these questions, patients opened up to them in ways they wouldn't to a doctor or a policeman. It sometimes amused her that patients thought they were just chatting to a nurse without realizing that there was no such thing as something unplanned happening in a hospital. "Did you feel bad at other times?"

Lemuel thought for a moment. "If I stayed away from the temple for too long, I would feel tired and irritable. But as soon as I went back, all would be well again."

"A feeling of peace, tranquility and a sort of glow?"

"Exactly. How did you know?"

"You were mellow, stoned out of your mind my boy. And when you were away, you started suffering mild withdrawal symptoms. Was this any temple? "

"No, just the Temple of Everlasting Acquiescence. After a few visits, I enjoyed the tranquility so much I only went there."

"Did you eat while you were there?"

"Not at first. But, later I started to eat hamburgers made there."

"Well, that's it. I would guess the drugs were in those burgers. It's a common trick, usually used on women though. Put drugs into their food, get them hooked and put them out to work to pay for their habit."

"Who could do such a thing to me?" Lemuel was appalled and outraged.

"Who did it to her?" Grace pointed at Maion and then departed with her records. Lemuel was left with a very thoughtful expression on his face.

Board Room, Montmartre Club, The Eternal City, Heaven

"Is everybody clear on where we go from here? Any questions at all, speak up now. The way the humans are moving had caught us before everything was ready so we have to move."

"How will we know the coup has taken place?" Charmeine-Lan's nervousness was apparent in her voice.

"You can count on thunder, lightning and sound effects. Multi-colored lightning for a certainty and really impressive thunder, probably covering most of the city. You people here, just ignore that and keep the bands playing. That'll keep everybody's mind in synch so I can draw on your power. Think of this place as a hose and me as the nozzle. When everything stops, it'll all be over. Then, once Yahweh has lost that battle, I'll put out a call and we'll get the new government set up. Once it's in place and running, there'll be very little opposition. The Host is conditioned to accept absolute leadership from the Ultimate Temple. As long as Yahweh is dead, there will be no trouble, the Host will accept new leadership as an alternative to no leadership. We'll have our people out there of course, making sure that line gets pushed hard. Then, once our power is solid, Gabby, you and Raffie get through to the humans and tell them we want to surrender."

"Suppose . . . . you lose?" Leilah-Lan was uncertain and frightened at the prospect.

"Me? I'll be dead. Very did and probably crushed out of this and any other existence. You lot, you'll be safe here for a little bit. Yah-yah has no idea this places exists or that he has any reason to find it. You'll have a few minutes before that idea sinks in. That's why I don't want you in the temple with me. Use that few minutes to run like hell. To Hell, or better still to Earth. Try and get the staff here out as well. It'll be a real panic so do the best you can. Then get out. Trust me you don't want to be in this city when Yah-yah goes berserk and especially not when the humans blast their way in."

The other members of Michael's inner circle exchanged glances. Nothing that had been said before drove the dangers of what they were about to try home so clearly. Michael looked around the room and nodded. "If there is nothing else, I'm off to the Ultimate Temple. If you do nothing else, keep the music playing right?"

Michael-Lan left the room and started wandering through his club. He had conceived it the day he had realized that human development would eventually lead into direct conflict with Yahweh and that the rapid escalation of human abilities meant that conflict would be immensely destructive. The Montmartre club had been modelled first on a Paris night club but had grown to include features from American speakeasies and Las Vegas casinos. At some point during its growth, the club had ceased to be a tool that Michael intended to use and had become something he loved. Now, he was very well aware that he might well be seeing it for the last time.

He left through the front entrance, winding his way out of the maze into the open air. Then, he inflated his flight sacs to the full and took off, climbing high above the city. Stay clear of the cloud he reminded himself. It might be hotter than you like. Underneath him, the shadowed Eternal City lay in its splendor. Splendor? Michael looked down again and once more saw the shabbiness and ill-repair that lay underneath the superficial gloss. Poor city, your problem is that nobody really loves you. We'll have to fix that. If I survive of course..

Ahead of him was the great Lake of Placid Contemplation that formed the centerpiece of the city. Fed from a river that started in The Ultimate Temple itself, the vast expanse of water was Yahweh's own private park, one where others were only allowed as an extreme sign of favor. Michael had plans for that lake, ones in which the words "Yachting Marina" figured prominently. Of course, he would still have to win the impending battle first.

He circled above the great square of the city. 1,500 kilometers on each side, the walls pierced by 12 gates. Michael knew well that some humans believed that the gates were named after the tribes of Israel but that was just a human legend. Their names were older than that. In fact they pre-dated humanity completely. They pre-dated humans but they would not post-date them, not unless Michael's plans worked. He had a brief vivid mental picture of the city below screaming as the great mushroom-shaped clouds rose over it. The humans would not even try to take the Eternal City by storm, they would destroy it utterly. Michael knew that as surely as he knew his own name.

He paused for a second. Did he know his own name? Was he still Michael-Lan-Yahweh or had he in truth become Michael-Lan-Michael? He mused over the point for a few seconds while his eyes took in the sights that he may never get the chance to see again.

Michael sighed and backwinged, dropping through the air towards the forecourt of The Ultimate Temple. There had been a time when this place had filled him with superstitious awe. Now, he viewed it with little more than contempt. Yet, it was still an impressive enough building, one that would make an excellent tourist attraction. Briefly, Michael contemplated installing a 'What the angel saw' machine in the forecourt and the idea made him chuckle. That, at least, broke the mood of apprehension that had been gathering within him.

"Welcome Mighty General." The gatekeeper genuflected in front of him. Michael acknowledged the obeisance with a curt nod and entered the forecourt itself. Once again, he looked around, gathering in the sights that might soon be eternally denied to him. Then, he squared his shoulders, tucked his wings into place and started the climb up the alabaster steps towards the throne room where Yahweh awaited him.

[Night_stalker]

Nice job as always Stuart. Now, the endgame is nigh.

[Razor One]

I'm throwing a Zoidberg on Anchovies here.

More. More! MORE! MOOOORRRREEE!!

Excellent as always.

MORE!

[Simon_Jester]

Good pacing, good setup for the climax. I like it. And yes, MORE!

Of course, even if Michael wins he's got a few "not as planned" moments coming, but at least he's got a chance of accomplishing his own main objective.

[Deebles]

Good stuff indeed.

I'm still a tad shocked about going the whole hog on nuking the army, though... understandable as it might be after Tel Aviv, it still seems a tad merciless. Especially if the humans had already figured out the angels were casualty averse, and therefore that they had a pretty decent chance of driving them back after decapitation strikes etc.

Also, I can't help but wonder what would have happened had the angels had a smart general who actually wanted to win, and done what was necessary to make that happen (being able to get to your enemy without them getting to you enables excellent guerilla warfare; drop a strike force here, a strike force there, and get them in-and-out on a short time-frame, with false portals to draw off attention from the real attacks; and use more limited resources like Uriel only when you think the enemy are too overstretched to counter). But on the inability for humans to find the way to Heaven - didn't any Nagas know the way? How else did Hell ever war with Heaven in the first place?

Apologies if all this has been addressed already.

[Nematocyst]

Incredibly awesome. The mental image of Michael climbing the steps to his ultimate destiny is too spectacular for words.
One thing I regret is Jesus' death. I wish it was more... 'theatric' (so I could draw it, Chick tract style. Complete with TSW passages and ending 'prayer').
Even better if Julius Caesar personally killed him. With a pilum. The Romans killed him before, it is only fitting they killed him again.

So humanity is not the only race that Yahweh and Satan bullied. Why were we the first ones to rebel?

[Night_stalker]

We're that good.

[Guardsman Bass]

Good chapter, particularly at building up the suspense leading to the battle between Yahweh and his greatest general. The last paragraph, in particular, was intense.

Looks like this is the moment for Michael-Lan. He'd better hope he didn't under-estimate Yahweh's personal power.

I hope we get a description of what Yahweh looks like in the next chapter. As far as I can remember, the only real description we've had of him physically is Michael-Lan's thought of him as a "gigantic humanoid" back in Armageddon.

[Night_stalker]

We'll have plenty of time to biopsy the corpse later.

[nobody_really]

We'll have plenty of time to biopsy the corpse later.

Before, or after, the world economy falls into a crapper big enough to make everyone wish we had never heard of Hell or Heaven?

[Lagmonster]

I recall saying it much earlier, but Michael - whether it was the intention or no - is the protagonist. He's done terrible things, but you still want him to secure the peace he's sacrificing so much for. I'd love to see the 'sometimes, the bad guys are right' ending where Michael bitchslaps Yahweh down like a mother-in-law and Lemuel and co. hates Michael but realizes the pragmatism of letting him rule.

[Nematocyst]

We'll have plenty of time to biopsy the corpse later.

We have no use for a corpse. We need his intel.

Before, or after, the world economy falls into a crapper big enough to make everyone wish we had never heard of Hell or Heaven?

I don't see how keeping Yahweh alive will help the economy.

[Ellindsey]

I don't see how keeping Yahweh alive will help the economy.

I think the point is that the economy is going to collapse once the war is over no matter what.

[Morilore]

That was well worth the wait.

Also, I suppose this was mentioned before, but I just processed that "1,500 km" bit. That's almost the distance between New York and Miami.

I think Michael's regret over the loss of his command went a long way towards redeeming his character in my eyes. Before he just seemed like a sociopath. He and Lemuel still need to have a reckoning, though.

[nobody_really]

Michael-Lan looked over the Eternal City in its uncharacteristic dim light. Without the steady glare of Heaven's white light, the myriad precious and semi-precious stones that lined the walls of the innumerable temples and palaces had lost their iridescent glow. Without that, the Eternal City had lost the one feature that made it unique above all others. More than that, without the constant refracted light from the walls, Michael could see the chipped plaster and peeling paint that underlay the superficial gloss. The Eternal City pretended to be Las Vegas but underneath it all, it was more like Atlantic City. The comparison made Michael snort again. I am probably the only person in Heaven who can understand that simile.

I found this paragraph to be highly ironic, probably because I live here. Las Vegas has always seemed to me to be nothing but a cheap and thin facade around a weak structure. Something that will probably be imploded for laughs in a mere few decades. I haven't been to Atlantic City, so I can't compare it, but if it makes Las Vegas look good, well, I feel bad for the people in New Jersey.

All in all, a very poignant chapter, Stuart. Thank you.

[Nematocyst]

I think the point is that the economy is going to collapse once the war is over no matter what.

Not once we start discovering some uses for Hell and Heaven.

[Night_stalker]

Yeah, but what uses can Hell and Heaven offer us?

[CaptainChewbacca]

I can't decide if I'm more looking forward to the Michael-Yaweh showdown, or the Lemuel-Michael one.

[Ellindsey]

Yeah, but what uses can Hell and Heaven offer us?

Hell has oil and rich mineral wealth. Heaven has streets paved with gems and precious minerals. These could both be very useful in the long term, but I'd still expect a pretty bad economic slump for a while when the war ends.

[Pelranius]

Wow. That was just great, especially liked Michael reflecting back on everything.

As for Lemuel, it's still possible that Michael could blame someone else for the drugs. We could try to make help his story work if we find Michael to be useful enough.

[Night_stalker]

Yeah, but what uses can Hell and Heaven offer us?

Hell has oil and rich mineral wealth. Heaven has streets paved with gems and precious minerals. These could both be very useful in the long term, but I'd still expect a pretty bad economic slump for a while when the war ends.

I meant besides the glaringly obvious points.

[Gil Hamilton]

I wonder if Michael-Lan knows who Claus von Stauffenberg was. He died attempting to prove to an advancing army that SOMEONE resisted, but that didn't stop that army from carving up his beloved Germany like a roast. I suppose he has to try though, even if it is too late for Heaven to gain any forgiveness at all for their crimes.

[Simon_Jester]

Looks like this is the moment for Michael-Lan. He'd better hope he didn't under-estimate Yahweh's personal power.

I doubt he has. If anyone knows what Yahweh's capable of, it'll be Michael. Michael is already expecting Yahweh's telekinetic abilities (comparable to Satan's, but used less frequently, I assume).

The interesting point is that Michael seriously expects to be able to beat that with the psychic reinforcement of however many angels (and Second Lifers?) he's managed to suborn. That raises interesting questions, because before there was always an implication that Yahweh and Satan were vastly more powerful than even their senior subordinates.

Also, just noticed this.

"Suppose . . . . you lose?" Leilah-Lan was uncertain and frightened at the prospect.

The twenty-foot dominatrix angel is scared. Not unrealistic, not at all, especially under the circumstances. Not saying it's unrealistic. It's just... a heck of a note.

I found this paragraph to be highly ironic, probably because I live here. Las Vegas has always seemed to me to be nothing but a cheap and thin facade around a weak structure. Something that will probably be imploded for laughs in a mere few decades. I haven't been to Atlantic City, so I can't compare it, but if it makes Las Vegas look good, well, I feel bad for the people in New Jersey.

Basically, Atlantic City was a decaying Rust Belt port town. No money, no business to speak of, poverty and crime rising, generally a mess. Back before WWII they'd been a popular resort town for the Northeast, but now people were starting to fly down to Florida and such instead.

Then they got the bright idea of trying to get some money back into the city by becoming the East Coast version of Las Vegas- with the same advantage of easy access to the population of the DC-Boston urban corridor that Vegas has to the population of California.

It didn't work very well. Now Atlantic City is still a decaying rust belt port town... wrapped around a few dozen blocks of inferior imitations of the Las Vegas Strip.

[Night_stalker]

it is too late for Heaven to gain any forgiveness at all for their crimes.

OHH YEAH, it's a bit late for forgiveness.

[Darth Yan]

the end is fucking nigh. Awesome. Lemi's about to figure the truth; i just can't wait for the update