Apocalypse Rising 041412


Angel 013
Angel 013 (Photo credit: Juliett-Foxtrott)

“Curious,” she says. “I don’t suppose there is any record of this sort of thing happening before.”

I focus my thoughts; I search back through time to find a memory, but there is none. I was a special case. The Father gave me the right to return, but he had refused it to all others, but his one and only son. “There are no examples. I am a singular event in celestial history, so all of this is very new.” I shake my head and frown. “I wish I could speak with the Father. His advice would do me well.”

Gloriana laughed. “I’m afraid that you will have to get used to not having his advice. It took me a while to do so, but it can be…liberating.”

“I know something about that sort of liberation. I have rarely sought his advice during my time on this world, and when I did I do not think he heard it.” I drink the last of my tea and set the cup back on the ground. “But I have come back, and I would like a word with him, so I think the next course of action will be to figure out where he is hiding.”

“Perhaps,” she says, “but I think you are missing something.”

“What?” I ask. “What could I possibly be missing?”

“When you passed out after being possessed, you spoke while you slept,” Gloriana says.

“What did I say?”

Gloriana finishes her tea and sets it aside. “You kept saying a name, over and over again: Justine.”

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