The Cosmic Spark

by Leo Ndelle

  “But why me?” Metatron asked.

  “Because, you and Michael are connected via that mark on the back of your neck,” Luceefa explained. “That is the first reason. The second reason is that even though Michael is the first born, Michael and I share something in common; we both received the tainted essence of the same Shemsu, Emok. This may be news to you, but that was the primary reason why Michael and I were the first to fall. It was an attempt to ‘fix’ our essences, tainted by Emok’s.”

  Luceefa summoned a seat and slid into it. Metatron was stunned speechless. Poor him! Loyal to the core and now smitten with angel lust after a phenomenal erotic physical banter they just had a few moments ago. He was good, she had to admit. Wings! He was great, as a matter of fact. Still, he was nowhere near Michael. A simple gesture such as kneeling in front of him set his loins on fire. What kind of angel could be so easily led by his balls? She almost felt bad for luring him further into her nest and playing with him like a feather in between her fingers. Keyword: almost! Despite it all, she would never betray Metatron’s trust and loyalty to her.

  “How I know all this is not important right now,” Luceefa continued. “But what is relevant is that Michael and I share a common Shemsu trait and therefore, we have similar potential. If he can, then so can I. Granted, I haven’t received any training but I trust my instincts. The Shemsu in me, however small it might be, will guide me. The Shemsu in me, however broken it might be, will be all I will need. But together, brother,” Luceefa leaned forward and took Metatron’s hands in hers, “you and I can accomplish something that no one ever dreamed of or even dared to dream of. So what do you say, brother? Are you with me as you have always been from the very beginning?”

  Metatron could see her logic, as well as her passion and the fire in her eyes. It was the same fire that had driven her to rise to the level that she thought she could beat Michael, driven her to start a rebellion, made her the leader she was, and it was the same fire that was daring her now to do the unthinkable. During their moment of shared passion, Metatron had sensed something very alien in Luceefa that he had never sensed before. And now that she had made mention of the broken Shemsu essence, the feeling had finally made sense to him.

  Metatron leaned back in his seat, folded his arms across his stomach and stared at Luceefa as she stared back at him with eager eyes. She had really thought it through. Her logic was valid and she meant every word she said. She could not do this without his help. Their chances of spawning new angels were slim, if not impossible. Their shared resonance during their second synchronized climax had birthed a new Luceefa, one who was bolder, stronger, more daring and more ambitious. It did seem as if fate was on their side. Who would have thought the Zarark would have been handed to them the way it was?

  “When have I ever not stood by you, sister?” Metatron smiled weakly.

  “I really don’t know what I would’ve done without you or Beelzebub, brother,” Luceefa replied with a grin. “Speaking of Beelzebub, I think we should call him back and update him on the recent turn of events.”

  “Sounds like a good idea, but he may not be able to get out,” Metatron said. “Whatever is keeping us out may have him locked in as well.”

  “True,” Luceefa agreed. “We should still inform him. He’ll find a way out.”

  Metatron agreed.

  A few moments later, Beelzebub appeared in their domain. They welcomed him and praised him for his success, despite the earlier unexpected turn of events. But before they debriefed him, they would first share some great news, which they did. Beelzebub took everything in and it was time to debrief him.

  “I met a human on Earth who called himself a ‘guardian’!” Beelzebub hissed.

  Beelzebub completed his debrief within moments.

  “This can’t be good for us,” Metatron admitted. “If they have a guardian, we must revise our strategy”

  “Why’s that? And what is a guardian?” Luceefa asked.

  “A protector of a realm, chosen and endorsed by Mother,” Metatron replied.

  “Oh!” Luceefa and Beelzebub exclaimed almost in unison. “So does that mean they can’t be killed? And how come we don’t have a guardian?” Luceefa asked.

  “They can be killed, maybe at the early stages of their nomination,” Metatron replied. “I assume this must be a very recently nominated guardian. He or she-”

  “He,” Beelzebub interjected.

  “Thank you,” Metatron replied. “He must not be fully aware of his capabilities yet. So if we are to take him out of the picture, we must act fast. Getting past that barrier will be our biggest challenge. And regarding why we don’t have a guardian yet, there could be a few reasons. Firstly, we’re not the ‘original’ creatures of this realm. We’re immigrants. Secondly, and most importantly, it’s Mother’s call.”

  Metatron then turned his attention towards Beelzebub.

  “Did you get the chance to personally test his skill, brother?” Metatron asked.

  “Was just about to before she summoned me,” Beelzebub replied and glared at Luceefa, who shrugged.

  “We thought it was more important to have you here with us and work on a new strategy before anything else, brother,” Luceefa tried to explain.

  “I understand, sister,” Beelzebub attempted to defuse the situation. “I just wish I had the opportunity to find out if he is as good as he is arrogant.”

  “And I’m sure that opportunity will present itself, brother,” Metatron said with confidence. “For now, we must work on a strategy. Sister and I will attempt-” Metatron caught himself before he continued. “To research on the Zarark some more. Meanwhile, I’d like you to get acquainted with Keerim, the cherub. I don’t know what that might lead to. Worst case, it could just turn out to be a harmless conversation. Best case, he could like you so much he could join our cause. All we can do is hope, right?”

  “Right you are, brother,” Beelzebub replied and rose from his seat. “I’ll entertain this cherub while you two go take care of business. I hope for the best.”

  “Us too, brother,” Luceefa replied.

  She stood up and kissed Beelzebub on the cheek before Beelzebub teleported away to meet Keerim. Luceefa stared into empty space as if lost in wondering contemplation until Metatron broke her moment of seeming trance.

  “Are you ready, sister?” he asked.

  Luceefa turned around to face him and he could see the slight look of worry in her eyes. He understood that it was a huge risk that both of them were about to take and he too became concerned. Beelzebub was a great general and leader, but he had little or no appreciation for a situation like this. Perhaps it was best that way anyway. He probably could have expressed strong vehemence towards them venturing into such unknown territory and they would have been spending moments debating on whether they ought to proceed as such or not. The moment had finally come and Luceefa and him were not only concerned. They were scared wingless, though they did not want to openly admit it. Metatron rose from his seat and walked towards her. She hugged him and rested her head on his chest as he stroke her hair. They both needed the encouragement and they both needed to relieve the mounting pressure they felt.

  Luceefa’s head rested on his chest even as their garments disappeared from their bodies and his hands stroked her head and made its way down the back of her neck and along the smoothness of her back. Luceefa’s head still rested on his chest even as her left hand moved from his left breast down along his abdominals and settled on his nether region. But Luceefa’s head was no longer on his chest when he took her on the wall, on the ceiling, on the bed and on the floor. They felt the energy surge once again and they let it take control of them. They felt the energy surge as they both approached climax. And they felt their essences resonate with a new kind of life as the energy surge finally blended with their respective essences.

  Gone was the doubt. Gone was the concern. Gone was the fear. The two former superior archangels rose from the floor in their superchar
ged states. They had not come this far for nothing and they would go even farther if they had to. They were awakening to new aspects of themselves and this awakening could not just have been a fallout of coincidence. It had to be by design and because of that design, they were bound to succeed. They had fallen once, yes! But the fall had only been to make them stronger. They had been broken down only to be rebuilt into much greater beings than they were ever spawned to be. A pale-violet-flaming Luceefa took the right hand of a red-flaming Metatron and interlocked her fingers with his.

  “Are you ready to spawn some creatures?” Luceefa asked.

  “Absolutely!” Metatron replied.

  And then, Luceefa and Metatron teleported to the Spawn Sanctuary Metatron had constructed for the Zarark.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  RETIREMENT

  “I MET HIM! Was about to take him on, but he run away,” Patrick fumed as the rest of Shi’mon’s team looked on.

  “Did he run away or did it look like he was summoned’?” Yehuda asked.

  “What’s the difference?” Patrick asked rudely but Yehuda ignored his attitude.

  Sarael shot Patrick a look of disapproval and Patrick calmed down.

  “If The Beast ran away, it means he’s scared of you and we have a better way of defeating him. That spells a major victory for us. But if he was summoned, then we should be expecting an angrier fallen archangel soon,” Yehuda explained.

  “Looked like he was summoned,” Patrick replied feeling foolish. “He promised to return, though.”

  Yehuda nodded.

  “Where’s Father Supreme?” Patrick asked, noticing his mentor was absent.

  “He went to the O.R. HQ,” Yoch replied. “Damage control and some final details to take care of.”

  “Final?” Patrick asked.

  “This will be his last ride as Father Supreme, literally,” Matt explained.

  Patrick glanced back and forth at the many pairs of eyes that stared at him with compassion at his confusion. Father Supreme could not be retiring! This was a huge shock. What was he, Patrick, going to do now? He was protégé to Father. Then, it hit Patrick like a sledge hammer. He was no longer protégé to Shi’mon. He was no longer an agent of the O.R.. Father Supreme had done his job and there was nothing else left to do except save Earth Realm from forces much bigger than they could handle. Father Supreme had found the guardian of the realm and Patrick had to cease thinking of himself as an agent of the O.R. He squared his shoulders, cleared his throat and met the gazes of Team Shi’mon with confidence and resolve.

  “I see,” Patrick said and turned his attention towards Yehuda.

  His gesture was not to insinuate that Yehuda was next-in-line for leadership, but it did feel right.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “For now, we regroup and brainstorm,” Yehuda replied, taking up the role of undesignated leader in Shi’mon’s absence.

  There was no objection.

  “But first, you mentioned that you woke up at Giza,” Yehuda said. “Correct?”

  “Affirmative,” Patrick replied.

  “Any idea why you found yourself there?” Yehuda asked.

  “No,” Patrick replied and pulled up a chair. “But there was a very powerful, dark force beneath the Sphinx. And when I say very powerful and dark, I mean just that. My guess is that The Beast was also drawn to it.”

  “Does anyone have any idea what this could be?” Yehuda asked everyone.

  Everyone shook their heads.

  “May be wise to do some digging on this,” Yehuda added. “Brother may know something. We’ll ask him when he returns.”

  “Agreed,” Yaakov said.

  Conversations broke out throughout the room. Everyone except for Patrick and Lithilia were involved in conversation. Patrick observed Lithilia closely. She seemed to be lost in thought as she stared at nothing but tried to focus on something at the same time. He observed the changes in her facial expressions; the slight frowns, smiles, squints and observation of everyone in the room. These were not the mannerisms of someone who was lost in thought. These were the mannerisms of someone was either paying attention to or having a telepathic conversation with someone or something.

  Patrick’s observation strengthened his wariness of the creature even more. She may have been ‘accepted’ by the group, but he did not care. She was Lithilia and there was no way in hell she had just changed overnight. She may have everyone else fooled but not him. His instincts rioted against her being a part of the team and his instincts never failed. Anyway, while everyone may sing kumbaya with her, he was guardian and he will be damned if he did not do something about it. Patrick frowned at her when she turned in his direction and flashed a smile.

  “Congratulations on your new status, Patrick,” Lithilia said telepathically. “I know we have our differences, but I assure you, I’m different now.”

  “You don’t fool me, creature,” Patrick retorted telepathically. “Enjoy your newfound friends-“

  “Family,” Lithilia corrected. “And they are not newfound. They have always been my family; well, at least Eva and Ahben have always been.”

  “I’m so moved!” Patrick replied sarcastically. “Well, whatever this is,” Patrick waved his eyes around the room, “enjoy it while it lasts, because knowing who you are and what you can do, this won’t last long.”

  “Good thing you know nothing about who I am and what I can do,” Lithilia argued.

  “Thanks for confirming my thoughts!” Patrick countered.

  Lithilia decided to let it go. It was pointless trying to reason with someone she absolutely despised barely a few weeks ago.

  “Let’s retire to our quarters,” Yehuda’s voice interrupted everyone. “We all could use some ‘downtime’ right about now, I think.”

  Everyone returned to their quarters but Patrick went to meet Shi’mon.

  ***

  Shi’mon walked along the hallways of the O.R. headquarters. The damage to property was significant and the loss of life had been a little worse than he had expected. They had lost about twenty percent of their workforce but he was grateful that it could have been worse. He walked among them as they carried their dead away and worked frantically to salvage and restore what they could. There was pain and grief everywhere but now was not the time for mourning. Shi’mon desperately wanted to join them, but it was best he stayed invisible for the meantime, at least until after his meeting with Father Antonio.

  Father Antonio was a great agent, the second best there was. But since Patrick was no longer an agent due to Patrick’s new status, Father Antonio was now the best agent and leader the O.R. had. Shi’mon was pleased he had made the right choice for a second-in-command and he was about to make the right choice for a new leader of the organization. Shi’mon had been head of the O.R. since its inception, but it was time for him to move on. His purpose was about to come full circle. Earth Realm needed him more as Shi’mon than as Father Supreme.

  Shi’mon teleported to his office. He looked around and admired the décor for one last time. So much of Earth Realm’s history had been shaped from within these walls; so many memories, so many emotions and all in one life time. It was a life that came with its own drama and all those little and great events have been the building blocks that have made him the human or creature, as otherworldly beings would refer to him, he had become today. Master had just given him a major upgrade, an upgrade he was yet to find out what it was all about. He had a feeling he was going to find out soon enough, though. Anyway, it was time to initiate the transition. Shi’mon sat behind his desk, reached for the phone on his desk and pressed a button. There were two rings followed by a click.

  “Father Supreme?” Father Antonio said hesitantly. “I was not expecting you here this quickly… Not for another three hours at least, or so!”

  “I know,” Shi’mon spoke calmly but with authority. “Meet me in my office.”

  “Of course, Sir,” Antonio replied and swallowed. “I
will be there very shortly.”

  Less than a minute later, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in, Antonio,” Shi’mon said via telepathy.

  Shi’mon saw a mixture of pure fear and courage in Antonio’s eyes as Antonio stepped into his office and stood by the door.

  “Close the door and take a seat,” Shi’mon said via telepathy.

  Shi’mon felt bad for Antonio but admired him for his courage as Antonio settled in a chair opposite from Shi’mon. Antonio had the look of someone who was mortified by fear, but who was too defiant to back down and flee.

  “I am extremely impressed with the way you have handled this recent crisis,” Shi’mon spoke audibly. “I couldn’t have chosen a better successor.”

  Father Antonio’s eyes widened at the mention of ‘successor’. He adjusted his frame in his seat.

  “What do you mean, sir?” Fr. Antonio asked.

  “You heard me correctly, Antonio,” Shi’mon said. “It’s time for me to go.”

  Shi’mon then leaned forward and Father Antonio retreated into his seat and swallowed nervously. Shi’mon smiled.

  “I trained you, Antonio,” Shi’mon said. “Do you really think if I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be dead already? You might as well relax and listen to what I am about to share with you. Only a handful of people know about what I am about to tell you and, for your sake and I do not mean it as a threat, it would be best if you kept it to yourself.”

  Father Antonio did not relax.

  “You’re a Bright Eye, aren’t you?” Father Antonio asked a-matter-of-factly

  “My eyes may glow, but that doesn’t make me a Bright Eye,” Shi’mon replied. “Hold on with the questions until I finish what I want to say, please. I assure you, I will answer every single one of them. Can you do that?”

  Father Antonio nodded hesitantly.

  “Thank you,” Shi’mon said. “To begin with, my name is Shi’mon, but I am popularly known as Simon Peter; yes, the Simon Peter in the Bible, leader of the twelve apostles.”