Page 45 of Metatron
“Probably for the best.” After all, now it wasn’t just Hell the wayward ark had to worry about.
“Atlantis says I can go with him.”
The statement froze him with shock. “Do you want to go?” Metatron couldn’t exactly say no. How would he stop her?
“I do, but I also want to fight. The humans are nice.”
“I agree. But what can you do to help them?” Asked rhetorically but Zilla had an answer.
“By improving their programming for the missiles. Some of the calculations aren’t correct. If we want momentum to carry them once combustion fails, then they require different calibration.”
“Do it, and then—”
Whatever he meant to say ceased, as Zilla vibrated and exclaimed, “Elyon is contacting your HALO.”
Rather than panic, a calm settled over him. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”
With the HALO being out of his body, there was none of the pain or compulsion of before when Elyon called, just his voice suddenly filling the room.
“I told you I’d come for you, traitor.” Elyon’s sly statement.
“Ah yes, because it is so benevolent and godly of you to risk everyone on Heaven for your pettiness.” He felt no fear in that moment, more annoyance that Elyon would show up now to distract when he needed to focus on finding Francesca.
“Apparently, I need to make an example of you and your choir after all.”
“Going to show everyone your murderous side?” he taunted.
“It’s not murder but punishment! You dare to defy me, and if others notice, they will think they can disobey too. Then where will we be?”
“Getting rid of one God and perhaps being choosier with our next leader.” He couldn’t have said why that slipped from his lips, but it proved like a flame in front of dry tinder.
Elyon exploded. “You will die. Painfully. Horribly. But you won’t suffer as much as your human whore.”
Metatron’s mirth died. Elyon knew about Francesca. Stupid spying HALO. “What are you talking about?” He played stupid.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice your involvement with the Templar? Treating her like an equal.” Elyon didn’t hide his disgust. “She’ll regret ever meeting you.”
“You leave Francesca alone.”
“Too late for that. Or did you not wonder how Astaroth managed to lay a trap?” Elyon actually giggled, and in that sound, Metatron heard the insanity he’d denied for so long. This wasn’t just a question of a good deity having lost his way. Something in the core of Elyon had rotted.
“Harming innocents. That’s low.”
“She was a disbeliever. A blasphemer. No wonder you were attracted. It made her a lovely prize. The demon prince was most happy to accommodate my request to have her removed.”
“You bargained with a demon?” He couldn’t help but growl.
“You bargained with an agnostic human. Not sure I see your point.”
Rather than completely lose his temper over Elyon’s actions, he changed tactics. “You shouldn’t mess with this planet. Earth is not like the others. The citizens will fight to defend themselves.”
“I am their God. They will grovel and beg, not that it will matter. Once I drain the suul, Hell can have it. There are others to take its place.”
“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with Eden, that its suul was corrupt.”
“With Heaven low on its supply, I can’t let it go to waste, hence why I’m here. To take it all.”
“You would risk Heaven for it?” Because, while Heaven might move more quickly than Hell, the latter had a head start for the planet.