Metatron"LIGHT!? BUT WHY-!"
The pillar of light trembled, disbelieving what he saw. Before he could create anything, before he could so much as guard, Lucy's light overtook everything. Like a blinding flash, a can of white paint hurled all over the canvas. No, destroying the canvas itself. Bringing it all back to zero. And the veil of lies revealed the herald's true form as well, stripping it bare for all to see.
"LUCIFEEEEEEEEEERRRRRR!!!"
The light shattered creation, the false pretense of it anyways. The hand, the three Archangels. If Lucy cared enough to notice, she saw the soulless husks smile before the light shattered them, as if at peace. And then there was nothing. Nothing but silence. Its broken shell leaked its memories, laid bare for all to see.
But it wasn't over.
It couldn't be over.
Metatron, the Herald of the Light
Metatron was one of the most ancient seated in heaven. Due to his age and wisdom, he was elected by God as his voice.
He had dedicated himself to his studies, seeking the pursuit of truth so he could spread the word of God to the masses. So he could help the people who believed in him.
He sought, and sought, and listened. And what he heard, he conveyed. And it didn't matter how cruel or destructive his words could be, even if it hurt humanity temporarily he knew that in the grand scheme of things, it would only serve to push them in the path of prosperity.
So he spoke. And he listened. For so long, he listened.
Humanity did not proceed as he intended.
Father? Is this really part of your plan?
Could there really not have been a better way?
These orders you wish me to convey, they could hurt a lot of people.
Because of his words, more and more people died. He didn't think anything of it. It is not his place to think, only to serve as God's herald faithfully.
No... he could not doubt his Father. To doubt him is to admit that his creation is fallible.
God does not love his creation.
God does not care for his creation.
God
The masses upon heaven believed your word to be absolute.
But it's been so long, and you have not spoken a thing.
I'm scared.
But they all believe in me.
I need to give them a purpose.
Otherwise, what am I to do?
"Urghhh..."
He had to fix this. He had to make this right.
"...why? Why? Why why!? It's not fair... ughhhh..." Bloodied coughs and hacks dripped down the void. "Hehehe... it's like... ughhh... like He really was here. Hehehehee.... why... so why? Why did you leave us, Father?" Tears streamed down its face. That light, it was no different from his creator's. Why would a wretched traitor like her have something so beautiful?
While he, who had been loyal since the beginning, had been given nothing but this burden?
He just wanted to hear Its voice again. This vigil had been nothing more than a punishment to him. But keeping the stability of heaven was his duty now. He had to make sure it would not fall no matter what. Wounds all over, he struggled so he could get back up, gritting his teeth all the while.
The morning-star stood so high, and he, so low. It was a sick joke.
"Why won't you understand.... if I don't do this, the humans, the angels... everyone is going to die. Get out of here, I can still... fix this. I need to... reset... this world. I am... God... I am... the voi... God... of God..."
