Road to Eden | ONC 2022

4 - Mammon

Azazel had to crawl until he was beyond the reach of the angel's powers. The angel had suddenly passed out and fallen to the ground.

Once he was able to, he jumped to his feet and pulled out a thin reddish plaque from the pocket of his cargo pants. The plaque started crumbling and vibrating the moment he removed the transparent protective film. His canine elongated enough to pierce through his skin, and he traced a circle with his bloody thumb on the plaque. He felt a full-body thump while all the atoms in his body and in the plaque were pulled towards Point Zero at light speed.

The plaque movement stabilized in the middle of space. It seemed to be a void space. It was not. Azazel could feel the plaque vibrating on his palm. The plaque would disintegrate into thin hair and then reconstruct itself in the next second. Azazel closed his eyes and tuned his heartbeat to the familiar rhythm. When he reopened his eyes, Point Zero was before him.

Point Zero was a huge cardinal red rock floating in space. It was stuck in an infinite loop of crumbling. Scarlet crumbs would chip off, then orbit around the rock on a random axis. From time to time, one of the orbits would get smaller and smaller until the crumbs would merge with the rock again. It was like a giant red atom.

The plaque stopped vibrating in his palm and fully disintegrated. Its shreds joined the many orbits. Once the attraction pull of the plaque seized, Azazel unwrapped his wings to prevent the gravity pull of the Rock to squash him.

With two quick flaps, there was enough distance between him and the Rock.

Above and below the active rock there were black holes. The one above was still. The humans had not figured that one out yet. It was used by angels mostly. The one below was swirling furiously.

Azazel flew lower.

At a safe distance from the swirling hole but not too close to the red rocks, humans had manufactured platforms floating in space. They were humans in bulky attire waiting on those. Most of them were travellers, easily recognizable by their luggage. The humans were wearing transparent bubbles that must be more uncomfortable than they made it seems.

In the organized chaos that was typical of them, the humans waited for their turn to use the Gunpass on each platform. The Gunpass would suck on a few debris of the red rock. Then the debris and a drop of their blood were processed through the machine and depending on the coordinate inserted a plaque would be manufactured. The plaque would transport the user and any living being in contact with them to the specified corner of the universe. If their DNA gave them access to it.

Azazel admired the ingenuity of the species and wished he could use a Gunpass too. He could try. He was certain, though, that his DNA wouldn't guide him to Caidos, too much human in it.

He flew above the crowd looking for his usual smuggler. A few of them pointed at him, took pictures, and he could hear them whispering a prayer, easily mistaken him for an angel. His pearly wings lead them in error. Though, there was nothing to be mistaken between his dirty white feathers and the golden glowy delicacies adorned by the real angels.

Once he located his target, he flew lower and lower and landed on a less crowded platform. The people on the platform barely flinched when the winged creature landed. Azazel was surprised that humans were more used to angels than he had thought. Through the books and the stories, he knew that the human's vision had improved drastically in the last few generations, and there were now able to see more of the unseen. Witnessing it in person still made him wonder. How long until they would stand as equal? This worked to his advantage, the less he would stand out the better.

He approached a woman sitting on the ground, three tiny humans resting in her lap. She was lulling them to sleep with a whispered melody she only could hear.