Holy Sheoly

by Hunter Blain

  “Shit!” I cried out as I flung myself backward, falling end over end as I tripped over the shattered boulder.

  The plasma struck where I had just been and melted the rock into searing, ravenous lava that lashed out with thick tendrils in all directions from the immense force of impact.

  I swiped Mjolnir through the air in an attempt to use the atmosphere and push the lava away; then I remembered I was on Mars, where the atmospheric composition was less than 1 percent of Earth’s own—or so the armor told me.

  The defensive gesture did nothing, and a sheet of lava flew toward me right as I willed a circular shield to form on my left forearm.

  Holding up the celestial manifestation, I crouched down right as the lava hit. I exploded upward, turning in midair and flinging the shield like Captain America toward Michael.

  He readied to catch my weapon, and I yanked it back toward me instead, sending the fresh lava that had coated the shield in his direction as I landed on my feet.

  Michael kept his hand up, and the sheet of lava quivered before contracting into a ball that came to rest in his open palm. With the supercreepy, expressionless face, Michael tilted his head to one side, and I just knew he was smirking underneath the mask.

  “Uh-oh,” was all I could get out as the ball was shot at relativistic speeds in my direction. Not even preternatural haste enhanced with my celestial armor could move faster than what Michael had just thrown. It reminded me of the agents in The Matrix that were beholden to the rules of the created universe, but could exploit them to the breaking point at will.

  I retreated into the control room of my mind to confer with a similarly shocked Baleius, all but freezing time outside my body. It was then that a truly horrifying realization took hold: something traveling at a percentage close to the speed of light had not stopped moving when I’d gone into my mind. I was beginning to think that celestial beings, whether fallen or currently employed, were all but immune to my pause button trick.

  As the attack visibly closed the distance between us, splitting the very air like a fighter jet breaking the sound barrier, I turned to Baleius with an expression of worry screwing up my face.

  He...he’s not going to risk killing us and starting the apocalypse...is he?

  Baleius turned quivering eyes toward me before reminding me of a sobering truth.

  There are two more vampires.

  With the attack drawing alarmingly closer with each moment, I decided to act on instinct.

  The energy that the ball of condensed lava produced while traveling at near the speed of light would obliterate every atom of my being.

  An idea I couldn’t explain came to me while my brain shrieked that what I was thinking wasn’t worth the risk. Pfft, brains, what do they know?

  The gold of my celestial armor flashed while a surge of energy rocketed through my limbs. Time slowed, even outside the control room of my mind, and my weapons vanished from my grip. I pointed my hands that had already been extended in front of me toward the attack, palms out, and—unable to utilize the time necessary to speak or even think—willed an entire prayer to merge into a centralized feeling that I put out into the universe. Its message was simple: please.

  The ball that was warping space and time rocketed toward me, making it near impossible to follow even with my celestial perception. The pure, raw energy lanced out from the angel’s hand in a straight line, evaporating the land it traveled over like a dandelion in a tornado. Without my brain having to process what I was seeing, the armor injected into me the complete understanding that the ball of molten rock had multiplied exponentially in mass as it neared the speed of light, and had probably dipped into the fourth dimension of time to form a straight line. It wasn’t that it was a straight line made from the ball stretching like taffy; instead, it was that the ball existed as a full sphere of mass across the points of time between the angel’s hand and my body, creating a straight line of molten rock balls in which each held enough kinetic energy to destroy the entire continent of Australia. My armor was having trouble calculating just how many spheres there were because of the interference from the fourth dimension which warped time itself, but it warned me there was enough to adequately destroy me and the planet I stood on. In an instant, my mind guessed that there had to be hundreds, if not over a thousand balls of lava flying toward me. Fucking higher dimension bullshit!

  As a fog of hopelessness surrounded me, I thought about my parents. Their smiling, proud faces shone a light through the haze, illuminating my path toward serenity and focus.

  My fear vanished in an instant as my eyes began pluming white right as the time-warping attack smashed into my open palms. I focused on inhaling all the immeasurable energy into my being like I had done with the fission bomb, though the contrast between the two was like trying to compare a single firecracker to a nuclear warhead.

  I sharply gasped at the realization of how true my comparison had been as pure, violent, cosmic energy flooded my body in a forceful tsunami wave that not only filled my well of energy but also brought my armor to max charge in an instant.

  Only problem was, there was an insurmountable amount of energy left with nowhere to go. I had absorbed maybe one-millionth of the cosmic energy, and knew the ample remainder would obliterate me completely, armor and all. It occurred to me that the celestial gear I wore hadn’t been made with the possibility in mind of a time-warping attack with enough kinetic energy to destroy an entire planet. It also clicked, then, that Michael had anticipated just that fact and had launched an attack I couldn’t possibly deflect, dodge, or absorb.

  I could shift away, but the planet would still explode, and I knew that the delicate balance of our solar system would probably not survive such a drastic decline in a substantial body of gravity. In fact, I was sure of it. Planets would slowly pull into one another, over time, or be flung into empty space. Our system of planets was the equivalent of a circus performer balancing several plates that were all stacked on one another and connected by thin rods; all it would take was one rod to be knocked out to send the rest clattering to the ground with catastrophic results.

  Why is he doing this?! I screamed to Baleius.

  I...I think he doesn’t care about causing Armageddon. He probably thinks he can win against Samael and maybe wants to open the gates to Hell.

  What do we do?!

  I don’t know! I’ve never dealt with something like this!

  In that moment I understood just how truly terrifying the Archangel Michael was, that not even his brother, Baleius, had even the slightest notion of how to stop one of his attacks. What was worse was that Michael had thrown the ball of molten lava as easily as to have been mistaken for a casual game of catch at a backyard barbecue. His power was truly awesome in the literal meaning of the word.

  The ground underneath where the attack impacted against my hands evaporated into its basic quarks, skipping to the end of the line rather than first breaking down into sand, base elements, and then atoms. A thick wall of air slammed into my back as it raced to the detonation that had warped space itself, creating a vacuum that served to fuel a fire hotter than the sun. I almost lost my footing, which would have been problematic, before the air reversed direction and shot out all around me in a shock wave that cracked the land beneath my feet. The few clouds that drifted far overhead were violently blown apart like bringing a leaf blower to a vaping bro’s exhaling face.

  I roared a deep, long string of random vowels as the flames started slowly pushing past my armored fingers, enveloping the digits in a warmth that promised it would first boil me inside my shell before melting the armor made by God himself.

  The cataclysmic cosmic catastrophe exploded after the last ball of molten rock caught up to the first, condensing the time warp into the now.

  What was concerning was that the armor told me that the flow of energy shifted and was now being projected forward like a bullet rather than a typical explosion, which went out in all directions. Jesus...was Michael
controlling the blast?!

  Use your mind, damn it! Think! I screamed inwardly. I had to remind myself that for every problem, there was a solution. I just had to find it.

  I wasn’t entirely confident I could reverse the flow of energy to attack Michael, redirecting it like I had done with Lolth. A fission bomb was one thing, but an explosion that factored in relativistic speeds and a higher dimension required formulas that would fill up every whiteboard in a university, at least in regard to energy manipulation.

  An idea whispered in my mind, and with clenched teeth, I summoned my sword, slashing at the air behind me and creating a rift through space and time while my other hand desperately tried to hold back the cataclysm. Once the hole was open, I frantically rolled out of the way and let the remainder of the immense cosmic energy blast into the gateway to nothing I had created.

  “NO!” Michael bellowed loud enough to further crack the surface of Mars under my feet and send me crashing to the ground, clasping my skull which felt like it was about to split open. I think I understood in that instant why he chose to whisper.

  I must have passed out because I came to after the entirety of the attack had been sucked into the gaping rift that had been torn much wider than what I had created.

  The world spun as I tried to push myself up on my elbows. My fingers were pulsing with pain, and I looked down to see the rock beneath my hands bubble and melt into orange magma. I pulled one of my hands free, and lava dripped like water from my white-hot gauntlet. I understood then that the pulsing in my fingers was the heat boiling away my flesh while the supercharged armor enhanced my healing factor and fought to repair my hands as the cells were destroyed. It was incredibly uncomfortable to feel the tug-of-war of death and life.

  Something caught my attention and I looked up to see the Archangel Michael steadily descending from where he had been hovering to the place I had cut the portal to nowhere.

  Michael slowly closed the portal with the flat edge of the massive weapon on top, sealing it with a pop. He stared at the point in space the rift had been in, and just kept looking back and forth as if expecting to see something. I could see how tense his shoulders were even through the massive armor and bright wings.

  The violent wind around us diminished as walls of dust several miles out began to fall back to the surface in a thick haze.

  With a voice that was still affected by the atmosphere, I drunkenly barked, “Are we done?” My question oozed with exasperation, feeling the heat of battle drastically cool and die away like throwing a freshly microwaved Hot Pocket into a pile of snow. I think that simile worked (Or was it an analogy?). I wasn’t really good at microwaves.

  “What...have you done?” Michael asked in a defeated whisper as he continued to stare at that point in space.

  “Saved the damn solar system. From you, I might add. Dick,” I countered as I got to my feet, patting at the copious amounts of dirt that coated my armor. My hands were still sending up a haze of heat waves. I willed the gauntlets to vanish, but could still feel the heat consuming my flesh. Good to know.

  “The consequences of this day will echo an eternity,” Michael exhaled with quivering breath. Then he was gone. No pop or dramatic imagery. He was just...gone.

  8

  “Um...alllllrighty then,” I said to myself as I looked all around at the vast emptiness of Mars, trying to both figure out what my next step was and what the hell had just happened.

  I waved my hands quickly back and forth in the air, trying to dissipate the heat that was taking its sweet time to diminish.

  An idea came to me that I could probably use Mjolnir to slow down the molecules around my gauntlets, but I didn’t want to touch the Norse weapon with hands that melted rock into lava as if trying to pick up glowing embers with one-ply toilet paper.

  Something caught my attention and I whirled around to see a rover gradually approaching. I squinted as I watched, absentmindedly placing my hands on my hips for a moment before being reminded how much of a bad idea that was.

  The rover continued its approach, camera eyes locked on me, reminding me of a certain eighties movie.

  After the original rover had died of natural causes, Elon had apparently been a part of resurrecting it because it had the unmistakable T emblem of Tesla on its chassis.

  It stopped about ten feet away from me as its lenses started at my feet and drifted up my body, the aperture widening and condensing to get the best possible view. Once it got to my torso, I waved a nonarmored hand with enthusiastic excitement. I must have looked quite odd without my gauntlets on.

  “Hey, Johnny 5!” I said through the thin atmosphere. “Are you trying to get input? Don’t worry, I won’t disassemble.”

  The robot tilted its head in question like a dog.

  “Huge fan, bee-tee-dubs. How’s Stephanie, Newton Crosby, and Ben?” I asked before stepping forward and very lightly petting Johnny 5 on his adorable head, careful not to melt him. “Anyway, gotta fly!”

  Lowering my fist to just in front of the rover’s cameras, I extended only my pinky finger and then opened and closed it in a farewell before grabbing the scene and pulling it to the side. Mars shifted away and was replaced with a beautiful mountainside ripe with flush greenery. It had apparently just rained—wherever I was—because the green leaves of the forest glistened, as did the lush foliage. The air smelled unnaturally clean and free of pollutants.

  “O...kay?” I asked as I scratched my head through my beanie, realizing the rest of my armor had vanished now that I was no longer in danger...or space.

  My hands still pulsed slightly, and I instinctively crouched down to rest my gauntlets—which manifested at my thought—on the damp soil. A small plume of white mist drifted upward with an accompanying hiss as the cool ground helped dissipate the heat in my fingers and palm.

  Once the heat was mostly gone, I stood up, clapping my hands together to get the now dried dirt off, before letting the armor vanish again.

  I pivoted in place, looking all around before an obvious thought struck me with an “Ah-ha!” and I looked down at my phone.

  Opening my hand, the hologram screen bloomed to life and I saw a “searching” icon at the top.

  “Hmm. Doesn’t normally take this long,” I mused as I lifted my wrist higher into the air.

  “Hello, John,” a familiar, welcoming voice greeted.

  “Gabriel!” I exclaimed as I turned and took the few steps toward my friend, letting my concern disappear like a puff of smoke in a strong breeze. He was clad in his normal, beautiful suit and stood my height. I now knew the simple gesture of matching how tall I stood was intentional and not just a coincidence.

  Placing my hands on his shoulders, I informed, “I just met your brother. And, um...he’s kind of a dick. Like a huge, Ron Jeremy–sized peen.”

  “I think Samael would agree with you,” Gabriel said with a reserved smile that tried to touch his eyes but failed at the finish line.

  “He almost blew up Mars, man! And me! Though I should probably switch the places of those facts, considering killing me is probably more important than, you know, blowing up Mars. Heh, sounds funny when I say it out loud. Kinda sci-fi-y.”

  “I’m aware. I’m also confident my brother was in control of the cosmic blast up until it disappeared into the hole in space you created. Mars would have been fine. But that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Oh?” I asked, genuinely surprised. I thought for sure his timing had something to do with my epic ass whoopin’ of the Archangel Michael. I dropped my hands from his shoulders and waited for the reason for my friend’s visit.

  “Walk with me,” Gabriel said as he placed a hand on my lower back and nudged me forward. The scene melted around us and we were standing in the OR again.

  “By Odin’s beard!” Ludvig cried out, dropping the neatly folded clothes he had draped over his forearms. He was reaching for the wand attached to his pant leg, which I noticed was in a stretchy, nylon loop sewed into the material n
ormally reserved for firearm shells, pens, and other such tactical items. I guess a wand could be considered tactical.

  “Whoa, there, big guy! It’s just me,” I said placatingly with my palms out before glancing at Gabriel. “I mean us. It’s just us.” There was a ding, and I looked down at my phone to see I had signal again.

  “You just appeared out of nowhere!” he exhaled, slipping his wand back into the secured loop on his thigh. “You could have given me a heart attack, broder.” He rested a thick hand on his chest and took in a deep breath.

  “Where’s Hayley?” I asked, looking around.

  “She’s in the shower. And the doc went home to grab a nap, since I was in the spare bed,” Locke said, coming out of the back room. He moved carefully, each step a conscious effort as his hand dragged along the wall. Once he got to the cabinets, which the room was almost entirely lined in, he seemed to gather himself and move toward where I stood.

  “Hey, buddy. How ya feeling?”

  “Like I got hit with lightning from Thor himself,” Locke said, prompting Ludvig to straighten ever so slightly. Even in his weakened state, Locke had better situational awareness than I usually demonstrated, and immediately followed up with, “Sorry. My head’s still a little...fuzzy.”

  Ludvig tightened his lips while looking at the ground and nodded his head in acceptance of Locke’s apology. I suppose it couldn’t be easy to have your entire pantheon slaughtered and then be reminded of it. Oh crap! I wonder if he was able to enjoy the Marvel movies? I still hadn’t seen Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 and reaalllly wanted to know the story arc between Thor and Star-Lord. But I might be digressing...again.

  Locke looked toward me and then at our guest.

  “Gabriel,” he greeted coldly but professionally.

  “Locke,” the archangel returned with a slight nod. I daresay there might have been a tad bit of respect in the exchange.

  Gabriel turned to me and eyed my frame up and down, but I had a feeling his gaze was focused on what the rest of the room couldn’t see.