The Angelic Conflict (Extended Published Version)

Untitled Part 12

THE DEMON vividly remembers the original creation. Even billions of years have passed, it still recalls how everything— all of the heavenly bodies in their orbits in the Vilon and Rakia— all of the creatures, including the ones both sentient and sapient— existed in harmony; and how things remained so till the six hundred and sixty-sixth Angelic Plenary Assembly transpired.

The assembly was a regular meeting of the angels held in Maon. Every angel attended. There they discussed matters of worship.

"Hosh-i'a!" the demon hollered. It had not yet fallen. It smiled and bowed as it drew near its beloved acquaintance. "How are you?"

"I am doing great. Thank you, brother. And you?" then it and its company chatted as they entered the Chezed Amphitheatre. They looked for their usual seats and talked of the stars and planets they were rewarded with since the last assembly.

"Salutations, fellow angels from all the corners of the universes!" A silky voice resonated throughout the amphitheater. "Our usual assembly is about to commence!"

The demon and its comrade stopped talking and turned their attention to the center of the space. Under the cornice of golden filigree stood a mighty angel. It was the Great Cherub, the highest of all the angels. The only one given the privilege to guard the throne of the Almighty Himself. No other angel equaled to it. Not in wisdom, splendor, beauty, or glory. It was the most beautiful creature ever created since the beginning of time. The most brilliant, the most showered in glamour. It wore all sorts of jewelry made of brightly colored gems and precious stones set in gold. "I shall have your full and undivided attention, if I may!" it continued.

The usual melodious murmurs of the angels subsided.

The Great Cherub threw its gaze about in silence as if making sure that all the angels were listening. "Brethren, I stand before you today to say that we face a mighty affliction. But fret not for as early as now I can assure you that there is hope, and I, the Great Cherub, the Lucifer, will be your light, your savior. You must have faith in me as I announce a message of utter distress."

A buzz washed over the audience.

"What is the meaning of this?" Michael, the Archangel, questioned, his voice striking deep tones of curiosity.

Beside it sat Uriel. "And what do you mean by 'distress'?" It rubbed its chin in wonder. "I cannot even fathom the notion of it!"

The two were part of the main angelic council— a group of the mightiest of the mightiest messengers. They sat by the front with the seraphim and other cherubim who by now whispered to each other.

"But please, brethren! Not a word till I finish my speech. Pray give ear first to my dispatch in full before you judge it." The Great Cherub holds up its hand. "I am delivering this message out of compassion for all of you, my brothers. I mean to bless and empower you. Why would you think I mean harm?"

The angels fell silent, their eyes on the Great Cherub. The demon leaned forward, enclosing its chin within its fingers. What is this foreign red aura bleeding from the sides of the mightiest angel? Did the rest of the angels notice it? Or was it just the demon?

"Naturally you ask yourselves," the Great Cherub speaks once more, addressing everyone around; "what distress? We have been created synchronously at the beginning of time, and we, together with the rest of the creation, have been sustained perfectly since by the Almighty Yahweh, Whom we have thought of to be loving and kind." Here the Great Cherub drew in its pairs of wings, and held its chest; its tone shifting from authoritative to dramatic. "Alas! I do not wish to be the one to tell you this, but it seems to me that I am the only one yet who has realized." The Great Cherub took a deep breath before raising both of its hands towards the ceiling laced with crystals. "Brethren, the Almighty Yahweh, the Creator Himself, has all along been deceiving us!"