Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) Read Free

report in his mind as he walked, adding a note of how neutral—boring, really—today's report would be.  But not all viewings were exciting events and breakthroughs of civil awareness.  Moments later Gabriel arrived at his flat and with his right hand palmed his door and walked inside.  His heart warmed immediately, as always when entering his apartment.  Gabriel looked around and smiled.  His apartment was spacious as all Archangels’ apartments were, but his had no extra amenities.  His apartment was decorated with deep rich colors from Earth: dark brown wooden floors, deep blue and red cotton chairs, pale green walls, and live plants always made Gabriel glow—especially when returning from the stark whites and beiges of Heaven's institutional buildings.  As he always did, Gabriel touched the granite surface of the entry table as he walked into his larger main living space. The granite was cool, solid. The surface always comforting, and reassuring.
    There were only seven apartments of this configuration in Heaven, but none were a terrestrial “home”.  Gabriel smiled again, thinking of Urial's expression when she first came to his flat.  This was the only place Gabriel felt he belonged to a physical space.  This was home, even though everything within these walls was an energized simulation. It was still home. Gabriel wondered again how the other Archangels could make their dwellings into view ports stolen from far away. Michael’s dwelling was a constant view of the same region of space, looking back at Heaven. If you turned around from the scene the floating chairs, communication panel, and entry arch ruined the scene. Gabriel thought the whole environment was rather interesting but wore off quickly. You could only stare at a scene, painting, landscape, ocean for so long. As Gabriel looked around his apartment again, he banished those thoughts. He relaxed. This was home with a roof, walls, and rooms that held individual purpose. Home.
    Gabriel faced the flat, off-white comm panel, the only part of the wall he wasn’t allowed to paint. He placed his right palm against the glossy, identification area and began to file his daily report.  Relaxing his shoulders further and with a long exhale Gabriel recalled the Gamma designation, his first viewing location, and played through his observations.  Next location, designation, observations.  Next location, designation, observations.  And the next.  And next.  And next, until he had replayed the children playing with the stones.  He smiled slightly, seeing the children in his mind again.  The raw joy of friends, their Sun's warmth, laughter.  He observed their playful physical contact with one another; Gabriel could feel the unexpressed love each felt for the other. And he focused on their thoughts.  Gabriel replayed the innocent scheming, immature sharpness, and the pure exactness of their thoughts. That emotion would come through over the report and he would, again, catch "Hell" for it.
    At the closing of his report, Gabriel sensed a small dataset indicating he was about to receive a communication.  That was rare, even for Archangels, even for him.  He furrowed his brow as the panel went dark and all communication ended.  An awkward silence broke open the mental clutter of Gabriel's mind and his surroundings. The morning’s report and observations were swept away. In their place was an emptiness Gabriel experienced from so long ago. He was nearly afraid of the nothingness. Two knocks sounded from Gabriel's main door. As he turned toward the sound, Gabriel spoke his first words of the millennium, "Oh, no.”
     Gabriel approached the door and tried to relax before opening it.  "Only during times of great need or high purpose are Archangels called directly upon,” Gabriel thought. Gabriel could feel the swell of anxiety from whatever entity stood on other side of the door, and he struggled against his natural tendencies to absorb those feelings.