“. . .Ah, my songbird, forgive me! There was something I could not tell you in any of our letters, for I needed the audience to place their faith in a version of God as I responded. But now, now I can speak without censor. Are you ready?”
Lucifer’s crystalline eyes widen, lips parting. He had a sense, yes he did, and it trembled in every inch of his body as the realization dawned upon him,
And the crown, God’s resplendent crown, which was the biggest halo any angel could wear, emerged behind Michael’s head in the same arrangement as his wings, nebulae and dangling stars,
With all of Heaven’s essence dancing like twinkling stars in those beautiful, icy eyes.
“Helel . . . do you remember how you said God was ‘rattling in sickness?’
Lucifer nods, but he was not sure he did. He could no longer feel his body as it shuddered, hotandcoldand hot –
“Well, baby . . .God is dead.”
Lucifer gasps, smiles, delights! Finally, that fucking Bastard was dead, dead, DEAD!
And that had meant only one thing:
“Yes, that’s right!”
And Michael smiles with more teeth than Lucifer thought possible, his eyes curling upward like crescents as he basked in the glory of what he would say next:
“God is dead, my love, and I killed Him.”