280 lines
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Plaintext
280 lines
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Plaintext
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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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OOOO oOOOOOOO OOOOOOO. OOOO oOOOO
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OOOO .OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOo OOOO OOOO"
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OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO'
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OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO
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OOOO oOOOOOOO..OOOO OOOO "OOOOOOO OOOOoOOOO"
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OOOO .OOOO"""OOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOO "OOOOOOO'
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OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO
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| There Ain't No Justice |
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| #65 |
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- Rage of Angels -
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by Tal Meta
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The man was young/old, and dark. Dark clothes, dark hair, complexion, the
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works. He looked out over the dusty plain while the wind whipped tiny dust
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devils into existance and snuffed them out just as quickly. "Tomorrow that
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plain will be littered with dead," he thought to himself, "and with any
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luck, I won't be one of them."
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Out of nowhere, an Angel appeared in the sky overhead. It sang a song of
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fury at the man, but he leveled his uzi at it and fired. The Angel dodged
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frantically, but the gun had more than enough bullets in its extended clip
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to track and burn the Angel. After it had crashed to earth, he walked over
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to where its sprawled form lay. His booted foot kicked it squarely in the
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skull, smashing what passed for bone into pulp. He pried the sword from its
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hands before turning away. "Waste not, want not." he thought to himself.
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When he simply appeared in the War Room, nobody was suprised. He had a way
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of doing that, and the others had become accustomed too. All around him,
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preparations were being made for the battle that would be fought the next
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day. While they all had different names for the coming fight, they all knew
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what it really amounted too... Armegeddon. Video monitors mounted to the
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walls showed the progress of the two sides slowly approaching the
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battlefield, humourously depicted in Black and White, they represented the
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forces of Evil, and the forces of Good.
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The dark man didn't have a name. Or at least, if he did, he told it to
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no-one. He dressed simply enough, in dark colors, mostly charcoal greys.
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Tomorrow, they knew, he would wear blue. When they spoke of him at all,
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they called him Freedom, for that was what he was fighting for. Aside from
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the uzi, he bore only one other weapon... a large two handed sword strapped
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to his back.
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He took his newly won Angel sword and gave it to an attendant. It would be
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given to one of his soldiers for the battle the next day. In his mind, he
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reflected that this was one battle that was DEFINITELY not going to go off
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as planned. After the forces of Jeshua and Satan had finished smashing each
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other into pulp, another army, fresh and well rested, would take the field
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and polish off the survivors. His army.
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And when the battle was done, no matter how it came out, he would face the
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opposing survivor, be it Jeshua or Satan, and raise his sword against them.
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The Sword of Michael. The only weapon that could kill a Greater Angel. Or a
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God. At least, he surely hoped it could kill a God.
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Dawn came early to that fated plain. The forces of Satan pressed their
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attack, but the forces of Jeshua gave back as good as they got. The skies
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were full of flying shapes, Angels and Demons, who struck at one another
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with swords. By midafternoon, the plain was littered by the dead and the
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dying. The sides appeared perfectly matched.
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Jeshua stood upon a low hill, flanked by a pair of Seraphim. As foretold, a
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sword protruded from his mouth, and he used it with amazing speed. Any
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Demon that dared approach was instantly decapitated, to fall, burning, at
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the base of the hill. Freedom, watching the progress of the battle from
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another hill, counted seven bodies smoking at the bottom. The honor guard
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surrounding Satan, who carried a ruby rod, had dwindled to just five
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Arch-Demons. Satan did not appear to be doing much fighting himself,
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Freedom guessed he was saving his strength for Jeshua.
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By late afternoon, the sides had dwindled amazingly. A mere few thousand
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soldiers still held the field, and Jeshua and Satan were within shouting
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distance of one another. Both of the Seraphim at Jeshua's side were gone,
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having been slain by Demons on kamikaze missions. Satan was guarded by a
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lone Arch-Demon, who watched his master's back while he fought his way
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towards the hillside the forces of Good were defending. Satan came within a
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hundred feet of the hill and stopped, calling upon his forces to regroup.
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But his forces were scattered across the field, pinned down by the forces
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of Good, who now outnumbered the followers of Satan.
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When dusk began to fall, Freedom gave the signal. His blue clad soldiers
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mounted their horses, and began to tighten the wide circle they'd made
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around the contending Armies. Satan was just cresting the hill upon which
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Jeshua waited, and their battle was just beginning. Freedom spurred his
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horse mercilessly, wanting to be on hand for the final blow, no matter who
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struck it.
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Freedom's forces took the remaining troops of both sides by utter suprise.
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They fell like wheat before the scythe, some still fighting one another,
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and none willing to join together to battle a common foe. In a few short
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minutes, all that remained of the two armies were Jeshua and Satan, atop the
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hill, who seemed indifferent to the falling of their forces.
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When Freedom topped the hill and pulled his horse to reign, he paused to
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watch the battle foretold by prophesy. Satan blasted Jeshua with bolt after
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bolt of ruby light, which Jeshua deflected easily with his sword. Jeshua's
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strokes towards Satan's breast were deflected by the rod, but Freedom could
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tell that Satan was weakening.
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They continued to strive against one another as the moon rose overhead, and
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Freedom's forces slowly climbed the hill to encircle the combatants. At
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last, one of Jeshua's sword blows broke Satan's rod, which shattered and
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fell to earth like so many drops of blood. Jeshua swung his sword once more,
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cleaving Satan's head from his sholders, and encasing his whole body in
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flames. With a final anguished screech, Darkness fell to Light.
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There was no sound upon the hill. No sound, until a faint, slow clapping
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was heard. Jeshua turned, and beheld the man in blue upon his horse, who
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smiled at him. "No man may mock me, not at this, my moment of greatest
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triumph!" said Jeshua to the man upon the horse, who commenced to laugh.
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"Who are you anyway," Jeshua asked, "and by what right do you laugh at my
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words?"
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Freedom dismounted his horse, slinging his uzi over the saddle's horn. "I
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am a Son of Man," said Freedom, " and I have come to prevent you from
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committing an evil greater than any that one would have aspired too." As
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Freedom shook loose the sword at his back, he pointed at the smoldering
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form of what was once the Prince of Evil. "You claim a title that is mine
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alone, Mortal," spoke Jeshua, "as i am the Life and the Ressurection, and by
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my Hand the Will of the Lord is made real." "You are in error, bastard
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child," said Freedom to him then, "I am no more mortal than thee. I know
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thy secrets, and have no need of thy Ressurections."
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Drawing forth the Sword of Michael, Freedom pointed it towards Jeshua's
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breast and grinned. "That Sword, that is the Sword of my Brother, Michael.
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How do you come to bear it, Mortal who is not?" inquired Jeshua. "I took it
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from him at the Tree of Life," spoke Freedom, "and as it slew him, so shall
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it now slay you!" And then, with a blindingly fast headcut, Freedom drew
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the first blood in the battle for mankind's future.
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They fought on as the moon passed overhead. As they fought, they spoke of
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many things. Jeshua questioned Freedom, desiring to learn why he fought, and
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how he had come to possess the Sword of Michael. Freedom, in turn, asked
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Jeshua what it was like to be the instrument of his own conception, and what
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it was like to die.
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"I died for you, for all of you!" cried Jeshua, beating back a frenzied
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series of cuts from his opponent, "I died so that you might all live
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forever in my Father's house, to praise his power and glory!" Freedom,
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whose face grew dark, said to Jeshua, "Your death was meaningless! You knew
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that you would be ressurrected! It was no sacrifice! If I die here, upon
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this hill, MY death will be forever. And I welcome death, if my hands and
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skill cannot defeat you, for I would rather die than be your slave
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forever!" Jeshua's face, covered with sweat, contorted with rage. "Your
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species was created for one purpose, Mortal! One purpose alone. To serve my
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Father, and serve you shall! I slew Satan for his defiance of my Father's
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Will, and now I shall slay you! The time for dissent is over!"
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Jeshua wove a metal curtain about himself with the sword in his mouth.
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Freedom fought back cut after cut, probing his opponent for an opening.
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His own defenses were being tested now, and he took three rapid cuts to his
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left arm, chest and brow. In pain and fury, he doubled his attack, and
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smashed thru Jeshua's defense to cut a long swath along his jaw and cheek,
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dislodging the sword in his mouth, which fell to the earth between them.
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As Jeshua looked at the sword, lying there in the dirt, Freedom brought the
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Sword of Michael down upon his neck, severing the head of Jeshua. It rolled
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twice, and came to rest at Freedom's feet. "Its not over yet," the head
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said, "behold, New Jeruselum descends from the heavens. My father will deal
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with you now." Freedom, lifting the head of Jeshua from the dirt, spat
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directly in his face. And then he dropkicked it, sending it flying a
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hundred leagues, to fall right in the center of the City of God.
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Freedom mounted his horse, and with his army behind him, rode on to New
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Jeruselum. The gates of pearl stood open, guarded by lone Angels. But
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Freedom rode not to the gates, but alongside one of the walls. He turned to
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his people and said: "I may not enter this City by its Gates, so I shall
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carve my own. If I perish within, follow your hearts. But remember (if you
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can) that I died so that no God could hold you in bondage. I am a man like
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any of you. Do not deify me in my absence." And with that, he struck the
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jasper wall with the Sword of Michael, and a great crack appeared in it.
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Two more blows opened a passage wide enough for a man to pass within.
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Within, the City shone like a jewel. The streets were made of the purest
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gold, so pure as to be almost transluscent. He bore the Sword of Michael
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out before him, and it blazed with power, especially where the blood of the
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Lamb was still fresh upon it. In the center of the city, a great pillar of
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light illuminated everything. It was towards that he walked, with even,
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measured strides.
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At the center of the City, a being composed entirely of light wept. It
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cradled the head of its Son in its arms, and wept great crystal tears. The
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first color was beginning to creep into the sky to the east. When the Man
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in Blue entered the courtyard where Jehovah wept, the Lord turned upon him
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and blasted him with the fury of a God. But the Sword of Michael clove the
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blast, and sent it to either side of Freedom, who stood his ground.
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Jehovah stood, and looked at he who bore the Sword. A gesture, and the
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Sword vanished. "It was a mistake to come here," Jehovah said to the Man,
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"because I am the Maker of Rules. I created the Sword, and as you can see,
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I can unmake it as well." Freedom just continued to stand there, looking
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defiant. "You have slain Cherubim, the Guardian of the Tree of Life. You
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slew Michael, who came to his aid. Then you ate the Fruit. I lost sight of
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you then. Even as you fought with my Son, I could not touch you. But here
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you are at the center of my Power." Jehovah took a step towards Freedom,
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and into his hand came a great blazing sword. "As you slew my Children, now
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so shall you die."
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Freedom shook his head, indicating the negative. And he laughed, a great
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thunderous laugh. Then he clapped his hands before him, and the sonic blast
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knocked Jehovah back. "You made the Rules, this is true. But you are also
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bound by them. You cast out your first children for eating of the Tree of
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Knowlege, lest they eat also from the Tree of Life, and become like Gods."
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And into his hands there appeared another sword, like a single piece of
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azure crystal. "Well, Jehovah, I have eaten from that Tree as well. I am
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now like you."
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And there, as the first light of dawn came over the hills, Freedom and
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Jehovah fought. Jehovah cast gouts of fire at Freedom, who countered them
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with with disks of pure sapphire. Their swords crashed like the cries of a
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woman in labor, but Jehovah was fighting a defensive battle. As the first
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rays of the sun entered the courtyard, Freedom struck Jehovah's sword and
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disarmed him. Jehovah sank slowly to his knees, defeated. Freedom, seeing
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this, laughed long and hard.
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Jehovah, his eyes blazing, looked upon Freedom and cried "Do not mock me! I
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might fall to your sword, but I will not be mocked!" "You shall not perish
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by my blade, Jehovah," Freedom said to him then, "for with your death, all
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things created will perish with you. It is not your destruction that I
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crave, but your absence. You shall take this abomination of a City back
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into the Heavens with you, and trouble my species no more. Agree to my
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terms, and you shall not die. But neither shall you receive the worship of
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Mankind. They are forevermore free of you, as well as I. We shall leave
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mankind to its own Destiny, untroubled by your prophesies and nevermore
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looking to cure its ills by prayer."
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"They are not capable of existing without knowlege of me!" cried Jehovah.
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"Try them," said Freedom, "I think you will find them to be stronger than
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you believe. They have dreams and aspirations that pale your fate for them.
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Remove your curse from the Land, and from Man and Woman. Unscramble their
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languages, undo all the damage your power games have played upon them. You
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in your shortsightedness wished to give them the Earth alone... I say they
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shall inherit the Stars."
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And so it was done. New Jeruselum rose back up into the Heavens, taking
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Jehovah and Freedom with it. Freedom's followers went forth from that place
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and built a city of their own upon that place, a city which grew to be the
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center of the world. Freed of the barriers of language, men came together
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in more perfect understanding of one another's views. The land, once cursed
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by Jehovah, bore food enough to feed all of the people, so that none might
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hunger. Effort once wasted in prayer was turned towards cleaning the water
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and the air, in the sure knowlege that if they did not do it for
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themselves, nobody was going to do it for them. There was not always peace,
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but all men knew in their hearts that they were, at last, truly FREE.
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