walls in classical style
representing Angelic scenes from Biblical history. A recreation of Michelangelo's
last judgment from the Sistine Chapel covered the ceiling. Some whispered that
it was the original, having been removed before Rome was destroyed in 2280.
The far end of the
chamber was dominated by a massive golden throne. A depiction of God in the
stained glass window directly above channeled sunlight onto the throne causing
golden sparkles to radiate to all corners of the room. Seated at a small
conference table to one side and below the throne sat the Demiurge Metatron and
the Archangel Michael. They were surrounded by a dozen Ministering Angels
playing a variety of musical instruments. All were beautiful females. Judging
by their playing, Gabriella thought they’d been chosen for their looks rather
than musical aptitude.
Metatron, looking
up at Gabriella’s approach, snapped his fingers. The Ministering Angels
immediately stopped playing, packed up their instruments and left the throne
room. Both he and Michael stood to welcome her.
Ritually embracing
each other and murmuring “peace be with you," Metatron gestured for
Gabriella and Michael to take a seat. Gabriella smelt alcohol on Metatron’s
breath.
Sitting, Metatron
took a long swig from a wine goblet on the table before activating the sound
buffer. The buffer would ensure that their conversation didn’t carry to the
guardian angels who were notorious gossips.
The ruler of the
Areopagites for the last 100 years, the King of Angels, Prince of Princes and
foremost amongst the Archangels, had the appearance of an extremely good
looking male in his middle years complete with a well trimmed silver beard. He
was also drunk as a monkey.
The edges of
Metatron’s pure white robes were edged with golden flames. According to the
third book of Enoch, Metatron was once a man who was transformed into an Angel
because of his righteousness. God then blessed him 1,365,000 times, made him
the size of Earth, and then bestowed 72 wings and 365,000 eyes upon him. Even
if it was genetically possibly, it would have been quite messy to take the Book
of Enoch literally. Instead, the Areopagites had settled for making a crown out
of precious substances representing all of the blessings of god. Even so,
perched slightly askance upon Metatron’s head, it was a busy and convoluted
affair, the eyes battling with the wings for attention. Gabriella found her
attention wondering towards it.
When one Metatron
died, ruling Seraphim and Cheraphim vied for the position, battling it out in
non terminal contests to determine who would next lead the Areopagites and wear
the crown. Gabriella was confident it would be her when the time came, although
her bookie told her that Michael was currently the odds on favorite.
“Welcome sister."
Metatron’s voice was loud, deep, commanding and slightly slurred. His bearded
face smiled broadly. Gabriella forced her eyes away from the crown and looked
into Metatron’s eyes.
“Thank you my
Demiurge. Once again it is a pleasure to be in your presence and that of my
divine brother." Gabriella tried unsuccessfully not to smirk.
Metatron’s smile
faded to be replaced by a look of distaste.
“Spare us the
horseshit Gabe. I bought you both here to discuss a matter of extreme
importance to us."
“Oh?."
Gabriella’s face revealed nothing but innocent surprise.
Metatron took
another swig from his goblet and tried to hide the irritation he felt.
Gabriella really did grate sometimes. “And don’t look surprised either. I know
you’ve taken a interest in the Overdrive."
Gabriella paused.
Looks like there was another spy in her camp. Some sort of purging would be in
order when she got back to Makon. She felt herself smiling at the thought.
“Yes Demiurge."
“That’s better.
Michael here will brief you on the current situation."
Gabriella turned
her attention to Michael. Probably the most famous Angel of the Areopagite’s,
Michael’s
representing Angelic scenes from Biblical history. A recreation of Michelangelo's
last judgment from the Sistine Chapel covered the ceiling. Some whispered that
it was the original, having been removed before Rome was destroyed in 2280.
The far end of the
chamber was dominated by a massive golden throne. A depiction of God in the
stained glass window directly above channeled sunlight onto the throne causing
golden sparkles to radiate to all corners of the room. Seated at a small
conference table to one side and below the throne sat the Demiurge Metatron and
the Archangel Michael. They were surrounded by a dozen Ministering Angels
playing a variety of musical instruments. All were beautiful females. Judging
by their playing, Gabriella thought they’d been chosen for their looks rather
than musical aptitude.
Metatron, looking
up at Gabriella’s approach, snapped his fingers. The Ministering Angels
immediately stopped playing, packed up their instruments and left the throne
room. Both he and Michael stood to welcome her.
Ritually embracing
each other and murmuring “peace be with you," Metatron gestured for
Gabriella and Michael to take a seat. Gabriella smelt alcohol on Metatron’s
breath.
Sitting, Metatron
took a long swig from a wine goblet on the table before activating the sound
buffer. The buffer would ensure that their conversation didn’t carry to the
guardian angels who were notorious gossips.
The ruler of the
Areopagites for the last 100 years, the King of Angels, Prince of Princes and
foremost amongst the Archangels, had the appearance of an extremely good
looking male in his middle years complete with a well trimmed silver beard. He
was also drunk as a monkey.
The edges of
Metatron’s pure white robes were edged with golden flames. According to the
third book of Enoch, Metatron was once a man who was transformed into an Angel
because of his righteousness. God then blessed him 1,365,000 times, made him
the size of Earth, and then bestowed 72 wings and 365,000 eyes upon him. Even
if it was genetically possibly, it would have been quite messy to take the Book
of Enoch literally. Instead, the Areopagites had settled for making a crown out
of precious substances representing all of the blessings of god. Even so,
perched slightly askance upon Metatron’s head, it was a busy and convoluted
affair, the eyes battling with the wings for attention. Gabriella found her
attention wondering towards it.
When one Metatron
died, ruling Seraphim and Cheraphim vied for the position, battling it out in
non terminal contests to determine who would next lead the Areopagites and wear
the crown. Gabriella was confident it would be her when the time came, although
her bookie told her that Michael was currently the odds on favorite.
“Welcome sister."
Metatron’s voice was loud, deep, commanding and slightly slurred. His bearded
face smiled broadly. Gabriella forced her eyes away from the crown and looked
into Metatron’s eyes.
“Thank you my
Demiurge. Once again it is a pleasure to be in your presence and that of my
divine brother." Gabriella tried unsuccessfully not to smirk.
Metatron’s smile
faded to be replaced by a look of distaste.
“Spare us the
horseshit Gabe. I bought you both here to discuss a matter of extreme
importance to us."
“Oh?."
Gabriella’s face revealed nothing but innocent surprise.
Metatron took
another swig from his goblet and tried to hide the irritation he felt.
Gabriella really did grate sometimes. “And don’t look surprised either. I know
you’ve taken a interest in the Overdrive."
Gabriella paused.
Looks like there was another spy in her camp. Some sort of purging would be in
order when she got back to Makon. She felt herself smiling at the thought.
“Yes Demiurge."
“That’s better.
Michael here will brief you on the current situation."
Gabriella turned
her attention to Michael. Probably the most famous Angel of the Areopagite’s,
Michael’s
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