dscape is bathed in blood and body parts. White and black feathers are soaked in blood and there is the smell of sulphur in the air. The rifts in the fabric of time and space are opening up and s

looks. He can't distinguish his friends f

e righteous ones? His anger gets the best of him with this latest treachery of the heavenly soldiers. He slashes his adversary down and moves on to the next. It does

cking into each other and killing the so-called foes. They are not enemies! They all represent the same thing, the same person. Their creator is the same! Why are they fighting? This whole war

seem to be ending. The war rages on for months now. It's all just one huge, bloody battlefield. No matter where he looks, it's just death. Has it come down to who kills more of the oppo

uts at him and blocks an incoming blow with her own

And for what? Nobody will win, we can all on

rs is your life. Stay al

Not for Lucifer. His brother initiated this war with his ideas, but he’s not fighting for him. He’s fighting for the idea itself. Freedom for the angels, just like the humans have. Equality for the heavenly races.

last thing he sees, before he loses consciousness, is the hard smirk of the

is convinced she even hit him a few times.

k mumbles. He covers his head with his

have to elaborate, they both know what she’s referri

reams.” He tells her. In part that is true, he never know

the past. These dreams will eat you up.” She shakes her head.

to her back. At least she

’m sorry better than anything he could actually say, he’ll just make those. But for now, he needs to clear his mind and get some sleep. Dealing with Father Simon won’t be easy, he needs to be well rested. Priests are a

me ago is just the thing to lift the spirits up after a sleepless night. Fluffy, spongy, soft pancakes with blueberry sauce and whipped cream. A dash of sugar and you have perfection. On

oot and shirtless, at least he learned to wear pants aroun

ps the angel of death over his head

back. “But I’m not sure we wo

sugar before I listen to this stupidity.” Layla

the road ahead. No distractions, no talking, just him and the road. A visit to Father Simon is in order. He supposedly found the book they needed. He

mote from the main part of the campus. And Zack is going crazy! He is usually aware of his surroundings without cataloguing every single bird, bush or grass bla

ou?” The young guy fr

wers. Irritation must be written all over his fa

tables and a sofa. There is a bookcase, but that’s all. No TV, no radio, no home bar. Maybe this room is for guests? Like a formal parlour or so

ther Simon asks him as he enter

n of my name.” He nods. “What is w

answers. “Don’t know if he’ll stay. I

is cut out to be a Jesuit. The stand

not well versed in Sumerian. I think this was transc

leather it’s bound in is dyed red, the graphics on the cover are amazing, but the script is not Sumerian. Not

an early version of Aramaic. I never heard the language spoken, so I

speaks early Aramaic?”

him? You can come with m

n looks at him with wide e

rked outside.” Zack laughs.

es. I’m all for an ad

ulls him out to the bike. “Ta

at the bike, makes Zack think he never touched one i

els Srōsh and Ātar. Obedience and fire. Unfortunately Nakir is only death now, without his brother Munkar to balance him.” Zack

Simon inquires. “I thought

ple version? Not all archangels are light. There is noth

e a lifetime to learn

ve to stay alive. Get on the bike