Blackness all around.

A cold chill stealing life from Azazel’s heart.

In the darkness he heard a voice.

Smooth as fine wine.

“A conqueror who takes ground through surrender. You are truly an anomaly, Ozz.” The voice came from every direction at once, as if it were the darkness itself.

Azazel reached to remove the cloth from his eyes, but discovered they were both uncovered and open, yet he could see nothing.

“Who are you?” the angel called out.

His own voice echoed back to him in the void.

Then the other spoke again. “For now, you may call me Providence.”

“Providence?”

“Yes.”

Azazel leaned back to brace himself on the nearest wall, but nothing was there. Neither was anything beneath his feet, though he did not feel he was falling. He stretched out his wings, but he felt no breeze or draft beneath them. “Why can’t I see… or feel anything?”

“There is nothing here,” responded the voice. “There is only this conversation. Tell me, Ozz, do you believe in gods?”

Azazel snorted. “If you know my nickname, how do you not know that I have served the gods all my life?”

“But do you believe in them?”

“Of course I do!” Azazel reached a hand out into the darkness, seeking his strange interrogator.

“And you believe they are gods?”

“What?” Azazel stretched out further but felt only the cold void all around him. “What sort of ridiculous question is that?”

“How do you define the divine?”

“I… I don’t know…”

A brief moment of silence. Then the voice spoke again. “You’ve never thought about it?”

“Umm… no,” said Azazel. “Not really, I suppose.”

“Is it true the gods can die?”

Azazel nodded.

“Recite the truths you learned as a child,” commanded Providence.

The words spilled from Azazel’s mouth before he’d even stopped to think about the strange command. “Enlil was the first god, and he had two children; Nyx and Sygin. Sygin, goddess of darkness, slew him and used his body to create the mortal world of Ymir, which she filled with demons. Then, in vengeance, Nyx, the god of light, slew Sygin, and ordered the rest of the gods, his children, to regather Enlil’s blood so that they could bring the Great Father back from the dead. So, yes, gods can die, but they are never truly gone.”

“Adonium is Enlil’s blood? Gods bleed silver?”

“Every cherub old enough to speak knows this.”

Another brief silence. “The goddess of darkness was slain?”

“Yes.”

“Then why is there darkness all around you right now? Why is there still darkness in the world?”

“Because…” Azazel thought for a moment, but realized he had no answer for this. He grunted in disgust. “I’m not an archangel. Or a high priest. Bother someone else with your grand theological questions!”

“Have you ever considered that maybe Sygin never existed?”

Azazel swung his fists out into the air, hoping to strike Providence on the jaw. Alas, his blows hit only emptiness. “Torment me with your questions no more, demon! You will not turn me from the gods!”

“I am no demon, and the ones you call gods are liars.”

“Blasphemy!” Azazel shouted. “Show yourself, coward! Face me!”

A golden disk appeared in the darkness, glowing so brightly it blinded Azazel for a moment. Soon, silver, red, and green disks appeared to accompany it. The light from these sources illuminated a hooded figure in a dark blue and bright red hooded robe, with the colors inter-woven in waves. The figure leaned its head forward, so the shadow from the hood concealed its face. From the sleeves extended four arms. Two arms bent at the elbows, and the fingers touched together in front of the figure’s chest. Two more arms extended out from the same billowing sleeves and held the glowing disks.

The figure’s robe was open, and in the shadows within the robe Azazel saw countless blinking eyes staring back at him.

A ticking sound echoed in the void, and behind the hooded figure appeared the face of a clock with four hands.

In all his studies of the many forms demons took, Azazel had never heard of something quite as strange as this. Perhaps this was a deceiver? A shapeshifting demon taking on a strange form to drive him mad?

The multitude of eyes blinked all at once, each of their pupils fixed on Azazel. The angel’s body shook when he realized he could not tear his gaze away from those irises. He stared straight ahead like a paralytic.

The voice spoke again. “The world you know stands on the precipice of change, Ozz. Your loyalty is to the gods, Seth above all others, but when the scales of justice weigh divinity, they will find the gods guilty. You will have to choose between justice and everything else you hold dear.”

“Enough!” Azazel shouted. “I have heard enough, you sacrilegious creature! Leave me!”

“Keep it down in there!”

A sharp jab to Azazel’s gut sent him sprawling onto the stone floor.