The Third Heaven : Apocalypse of Kings

by Donovan Neal

  Argoth staggered as he stood up, and Jerahmeel let him lean upon him.

  “Are you all right?” Jerahmeel asked. “I thought I heard you cry out.”

  “Aye…” Argoth replied. His face looked towards the starry sky and stared off into space.

  Jerahmeel’s own eyes now narrowed, and he looked upon his friend with increasing concern and pressed his interrogation further. “Tell me…what did you see?”

  Argoth lowered his gaze to the floor, sighed, then raised his head to stare deep into Jerahmeel’s own eyes and replied.

  “The last generation of war…for the end of all things has come.”

  Jerahmeel eyes narrowed in concern. “Tell me brother… the book that is hidden from my sight when I enter your presence. What is it? I’ve never seen a book on this wise before.”

  Argoth cocked his head to the side and gazed upon his brother to study him. “It is a tome within a tome of tomes. It is I, and I am it. It is the book of life, and it is the book of El.”

  “And what does it… what do you contain?”

  Argoth frowned, “The wrath of the living God: a wrath unlike Hell, or Death, but pure and unadulterated destruction. And soon my friend…very soon I fear. El would have it…have me: be opened.”

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  “Ashtaroth, attend me.” Lucifer said.

  Ashtaroth quickly made himself to his master’s side. He watched as the one hundredth session of what Adam’s kin had called the United Nations scurried about the business of ruling their kinsmen. He moved imperceptibly amongst them watching as men who had the power to end all life on the planet, huddled in clusters behind banners of their respective houses. Some had cloth sigils woven with stars and stripes, whilst other human clans held banners draped in the color of blood. He flew over the standards that the nations of the world cloaked themselves in their collective pride, until he came to his master who hovered above the proceedings of all men, watching, calculating and grinning.

  Ashtaroth hated his master’s grin.

  For it meant that the machinations of his king would someday mean disruption to the status quo; a status quo to once more attempt to grasp at the skirts of Heaven and attempt to bring El low. He approached the king of darkness and bowed as was protocol to his lord.

  “What is your command my king?”

  Lucifer did not look at his henchman and replied, “I desire report of the fruit of my labor. Go to and personally bid Leto to come and give me report of his stewardship. I would know of his state. Inform him that I grow weary of waiting and would see my plans set into motion.”

  “As you wish my king.” Ashtaroth bowed and turned from the dread lord. He lifted himself into the ether floating through the steel and concrete towers that men had erected in their ingenuity and pride. The glass spires ascended upward to scrape against the base of the sky; pale imitations of the golden towers of Heaven. Counterfeit steeples, they were but mere shadows of Heaven’s glory. Men had collected themselves into great cities that dotted the face of the Earth. God’s flawed image, ever seeking to make a name for themselves as in the time of Babel. Their innate sin moving them to counter the scattering El had caused among their kind so many centuries earlier. Their various languages now made moot through their increasing knowledge and skills to craft machines beyond the sight of the naked eye to see.

  Ashtaroth admired them.

  He watched them lay metallic and fiber optic sinew across the ocean floor and with their electronic veins, rushed through electrons to communicate across land and sea. And in their charge to subdue El’s world they launched themselves into the black of space and dared peer, straining to see even into the realm of the Grigori themselves and had even partially tapped into the invisible spectrum's of existence where images and sound could be sent invisibly across the globe and into the deep black of space. Mankind was indeed as Lucifer foresaw, an encroaching plague, which if left unchecked would seek to go to the furthest reaches of the universe. He now understood what his master had foreseen, that man would never stop; never cease in his pursuit to accomplish all that was in his imagination to do. He would one day breach the realm of the Third Heaven itself: and that Lucifer explained…could never be.

  El was wise to scatter them Ashtaroth thought. For it was most surely a truth that nothing would be restrained from what they imagined to do. It was this untapped potential that Lucifer coveted to control, and to return: weaponized against El himself.

  Ashtaroth floated effortless in the sky leaving the city men called New York. He flew with ease into the cool evening sky, dodging past the prayer cover of El’s followers. A poisonous shield which weakened his kind, and if not avoided would cause him to fall hurtling downward from the sky. He was careful to weave in between the flack of the saint’s prayers.

  Arriving at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, he escaped the contours of the continent where Christ had made such a stronghold that its occupation by Christians had managed to even turn the attentions of his master. When asked how Lucifer could allow a country of men who set themselves to worship El so, and not be destroyed: Lucifer laughed and replied.

  “It is my will that the church of the living god be allowed to thrive in this land. We shall let it swell in a subversive and divisive pride and allow the accursed body of Christ in this nation, to think it immune from attack without. For a dry rot shall I sow within: a canker that in time will make them crumble. We shall weather their belief in Yeshua, we shall abide and wait until Adamson is sick of the shackle that is El’s will. We will let him taste what it is to live apart from El. To remove from their remembrance that they are made in His accursed image and likeness, and then my dear friend…then, we shall strike. For we will plant within this garden a tare of division; for whom better than I, to know the power of discord among brethren? Let them rise…let them rise that they might fall.”

  Ashtaroth had watched his master become more calculating since captivity was led captive by Yeshua. Become increasingly obsessed with the notion that the called out assembly of humans, posed an existential threat to the Elohim’s existence. For Lucifer was livid after his defeat in Hell. Fooled by El’s brilliance; Yeshua had lured his master to bite into what he could not resist…Lucifer’s hatred of El. All but guaranteeing his actions would lead to his downfall. A strategy and wisdom that none of the princes of this world knew: for had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.

  Ashtaroth smiled as he flew over the Atlantic Ocean. An uncontrolled admiration of El welled up within him: that despite his master’s power. El had always managed to stay ahead of him. But perhaps no longer…for El himself had shown the way to bring Him low. Lucifer had always seen hints of the possibility. An outcome revealed when he provoked God’s direct wrath when angels mated with the human females to create abomination. Lucifer spied El’s power resident in Adam when Yeshua was lifted up and the Eternal Ones very life expired before the Horde’s eyes.

  And now…now Lucifer would after two attempts bring to maturity a plan woven over thousands of men’s years, that if realized would lift his people to the gates of Heaven itself. However, it was a plant that was wrought with great risk, and perhaps would ignite the final solution to El’s rule itself; mayhap, even bring the prophetic trumpets of wrath down upon them all. Lucifer would see the image of God serve him…or he would see it destroyed in fire. It was a risky plan. Full of greatness and peril but Ashtaroth would see his master’s plan done.

  The starry filled sky was as quiet as was the peaceful sea below him. There was few of the Host that patrolled the oceans. For the enemy was busy removing the Hoard’s influence over men in the Earth. And the numbers of the Fallen were down dramatically from the great day of the Descension. For war throughout the millennia and the opening of a new front against God’s church had withered their ranks.

  Ashtaroth noted the crafts of flight that men had designed to ferry their kind across land and sea. Each darted across the black sky in blinking red and gre
en signals releasing contour trails as they soared through the air.

  What did he hear a human call them? Airplanes; yes that was the term.

  Each of the tiny airships reminded him briefly of the glory of his own kind. Ashtaroth frowned at the memory. Resentment, and then bitterness, lit the flames of his kilnstone once more, and he glowered at the achievement of man to fly even with mechanical means. He turned his attention to one of the airplanes that was closest to him.

  How easy to just pluck a vessel from the air; these creatures that rely on such machines who in their naiveté fly through the skies. How easy indeed to send these souls to meet Hell and cull their stinking ranks.

  But many of the vessels had angels accompany them as escort: invisible protectors that guarded them as they traveled. Many of the machines were themselves cloaked in gaseous shields of prayer; preventing members of the Horde from drawing near. This particular vessel was no different. Four angels flew surrounding the craft. A visible sign of God’s divine covering over what was undoubtedly at least one of his adopted children on-board. He veered southeast away from the craft. Not desiring to engage members of the Host.

  He looked down as he flew over and past great sea faring ships that ferried men’s commerce. Ships loaded with the trinkets of merchants that occupied the minds of men. For the whole of Adams kin were foolishly concerned over gold and notes of debt, as nations exchanged in trade with one another. Ashtaroth chuckled to himself as he reminisced on the many souls he had personally given over to Hell’s clutches: humans who yielded to greed and their innate predilection to submit to the lust of their eyes.

  Men are so stupid: so many achievements; so much potential; yet a slave all the same…pathetic.

  Despite all of mankind's achievements, all of his increase in knowledge, he had failed to fully unlock his genome to explore the spark of life breathed by El himself; still unable to break the bonds of the Withering…unable to be released from Lucifer’s entrapment into Sin. Unable to breach the mortal limits El had placed on his life span. Ashtaroth remembered El’s word that echoed as a blast across the world. “My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be an hundred and twenty years.”

  Upon his command El’s voice saturated every cell of mankind on the planet. Establishing man’s bounds to prevent his spread and from achieving his eternal purpose. A limit never breached: never breached until now.

  Lucifer knew that El could never break his word. His plan was genius. He had watched men from the birth of his existence. From his seating upon the throne that covered El Himself. Lucifer understood why David had written “What is man that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visitest him?” For Lucifer made mention that he had seen in a vision the potential that man... not angel, could supplant God. For God in his folly had created man in his image and likeness. And Lucifer would harness this power. And return it against the God-king in recompense for them all.

  Ashtaroth ruminated on his station and the future yet to come. He frowned in anger and resentment. Like his master, he too wanted to bring man to ruin. But more importantly to bring recompense to both God and man. For the Horde still smarted from the last battle with the forces of Heaven.

  For Lucifer’s attempts to sully the image of God, and Yeshua’s unexpected resurrection had created a shock-wave in the spirit. For now, men led by El Pneuma and empowered by the same, were sensitive to his kind’s presence as never before. Now enlightened to the true nature of his kind and armed with intimate knowledge of man’s true standing. Lucifer’s fears became realized as the accursed Disciples of Christ had become enemy combatants in the struggle to defeat El. The disciples of Yeshua were now illuminated to the truth that they wrestled not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers: a truth that allowed them to see the Horde and its effects on mankind. And with this knowledge the Church of the living God laid waste to Lucifer's plan for men: encroaching as a virus across the Earth. The news of Yeshua’s resurrection rode upon the mouths of rabid men who despite torture and death managed to reach the four corners of the Earth with their accursed “good news.” News that Yeshua had died for their sins and was raised; raised with the promise that they too would be holders of eternal life if they but turned to faith in God.

  Damn you Lucifer. Ashtaroth thought. Your pride will be the undoing of us all. But who else can lead? Who else can possibly lead us back to Heaven, but he who originated our ouster? Perhaps finally—this plan of yours will work.

  Ashtaroth sighed as he recalled the history of El’s new army of men: men who diluted Lucifer’s message that the Horde were gods. For a time mankind thought there were many gods, yet the sect of Christians; as they became known obliterated those ideas. Once Ashtaroth and his kind could call upon men to worship them openly, to bow down, but it was increasingly difficult in this new age to even convince men that beings existed beyond his own existence. Lucifer cautioned the Horde not to fight against this deception. Explaining that it was wise to lie low, and cause usurpation. The Horde heeded the wisdom of their king, relented and pulled back from open manifestations. The dark ages of man allowed the Horde to wipe many from the face of the Earth. But the Renaissance obliterated the darkness Lucifer sought to bring forth the Void. The darkened state needed to bring about Lucifer’s new Heaven and new Earth.

  For many generations Ashtaroth and his master had fought the parasitic growth of the Church: beginning with the persecution of the man Peter. Lucifer killed many of their leaders. Nevertheless, they spread as dandelion seeds adrift across the span of time: implanting their foul “gospel” amidst the nations of the planet. For over two thousand years Ashtaroth had watched the cancerous growth of this plague called the “church.”

  The called out Assembly of God blew over all lands reaching the known world. Lucifer finally slowed their march in the Eastern lands of Pangu, Gog and Magog. Implanting within a people that the idea of God was not just foreign: but a threat to power.

  “For what better weapon to fight against Christ, and his people, than to perpetuate a world where there is no God?” Lucifer said.

  Lucifer then spread the greatest of all lies: the denial of the Creator’s existence. A lie designed to replace the Creator: with man himself.

  “Let mankind see himself as the sum of all things. The measure by which reality is defined and we will have him where we desire him. Then dear Ashtaroth…then we will conquer.”

  Ashtaroth landed in the seat of global power that was Brussels, and was met by the chief principality of the area Belphegor. “Hail adjutant of the king!” Belphegor said, and he saluted the emissary of Lucifer.

  Ashtaroth returned his salute and replied. “Hail. I bring inquiry from the master as to the status of his son. He grows increasingly impatient.”

  “Leto is maturing nicely,” said Belphegor. “We have controlled his development per the master’s instruction. Soon he will be ready to take his place among the powers of men. Soon we shall recoup all that the God-king has denied us, and soon…we shall have our revenge.”

  Leto was under constant guard. Lucifer always wanted to know everything regarding his development: particularly, if he exhibited extraordinary traits. Nephilim were known to possess strength greater than men. Some such as Nimrod of old were men of renown who could even rival angels. But nothing seemed unusual about the creature other than the occasional physical fatigue that his angelic tutors sometimes noted when they were around him.

  Ashtaroth knew that Lucifer played with fire. To combine human and Elohim DNA could create unnatural combinations that were unforeseen. El had inscribed in all angelic stones the warnings of inseminating human females. To do so was to cross species and the results could be a creation that was neither Elohim nor Human but something else: Abomination.

  Grigoric scholars of the Horde speculated that it was possible to create something greater than either man or angel: something that mayhap could rival God. Most scoffed
at the idea. All save Lucifer.

  For Lucifer was a researcher of the nth degree. And the prospect of making something that could rival El himself intrigued him. And when El put on flesh, Lucifer knew that if El could become a man, perhaps…perhaps the thing could be engineered in reverse. That man, being made in the image and likeness of God; could indeed ascend to something more. But all attempts to breed something failed: from the breaking of the world via flood by El, to the destruction of the giants by David and his mighty men. Undeterred, Lucifer continued his studies, experimenting on men as chattel. From euthanasia, abortion, and genocide, he assisted man’s science, technology, and medicine. Century after century until mankind unlocked his genome: until he understood the ways of nanotechnology and the science of the atom and cloning. Selectively breeding within the labs of men; defying the spirit of El’s law, but not its letter until finally: Lucifer created a man after his own image and likeness; a man allegedly with unspoilt DNA from Adam himself: uncorrupted by the Withering. A man spliced with the DNA of his own angelic blood: a man he named Leto Alexander.

  Ashtaroth looked at the young man who had just thrashed an opponent in tennis. He flew over to where Leto was wiping his brow with a towel. His muscles bristled with sweat. He was a fine specimen of Lucifer's manipulation of Adam’s genetic code. Olive toned with green eyes; the ambassador of the European Union would soon be ready to assume his mantle of power.

  Ashtaroth stared at Leto…stared as the weapon of Lucifer’s creative genius: a creation that suddenly turned to speak to him.

  “It is good to see you Ashtaroth. How fares my father?”

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