Waiting for the end, he decided, was the perfect way to describe his life.

As a child, he’d been shunted into the box of what he was supposed to be, what his parents expected of him. It was even in his name.

Not that they didn’t love him, but they were flawed like everyone else.

When that had finished, he’d been lost; wandering aimlessly in a pitch-black wasteland, no interest in what was before or behind him.

Then hope had appeared, only to be ripped away. Now, he existed in a microcosm of despair and loneliness, the only wish being for the final ending.

But the microcosm, like his life, was stubbornly refusing his desire.

He opened his eyes.

In front of him stood Lydia, her back to him and arms raised as she yelled in defiance of the giant foot hovering above them.

“That soul,” she said. “To me, it looks like a candle. One with a flame so tiny it’s unnoticeable; it may as well not be there.” She thrust her hands, phantom forces nudging the foot upward. “But every now and again, it flares so high anyone could see it. That colour, that light, that warmth…”

Baring her teeth with a howl, she brought her hands together, shoving them forward. The foot flew back.

“It’s beautiful!”

His eyes widened. “Lydia…”

Satan stumbled away, regaining his footing with his face twisted in a snarl. “Traitorous cur! You dare turn your back on history’s greatest undertaking, and for what? For one life that doesn’t matter?”

She glowered with all the power she could muster. Around her, the wind began to pick up, dragging burbling magma across the ground until it hardened.

“Everybody matters to somebody,” she said, holding her palm up. “I was wrong. Even if we killed God, it wouldn’t change anything; this cruel world would keep on turning. So if our lives are destined to be shit either way, they may as well be shit together!”

Pointing her palms at him, she set herself. Jack’s eyes, incapable of growing any wider, flit around in search of something helpful. They failed.

A blast of white light erupted from her hands, cannoning into the devil’s shining armour. Her expression twisted, she took a step, driving him back.

He growled. With a clenched jaw, he tried to force through the beam, but only found himself cancelling out his backward momentum. It reminded Jack of when they first met, the killer light show at the warehouse.

Whimpering, Lydia cocked her head back. “I don’t think I can hold this much longer.”

He glanced at Lizzie. Still deep in concentration, she had taken to a knee with twitching fingers. He shrugged.

“You’re gonna have to.”

Roaring, Satan edged towards them. “There is no hope, humans! This world is already ours, and soon, the Heavens will be too!”

Lydia roared back. “Jack, do something!”

Behind her, he threw his arms out. “Whaddya expect me to do, stab him with my broken sword?”

She spat. “We need to break the armour before we can do anything! IGKA was designed to kill a God, so it’s impenetrable.”

“How are we meant to break it, then? And what the f*ck is an IGKA?”

Satan took another step, rattling the ground. He stopped, snarling, but the ground continued rumbling.

Lydia made a pained expression. “The Infernal God-Killing Armour. It’s so overpowered it took him three days to put it on.”

Jack considered this. “Does exactly what it says on the tin, I suppose.”

“Jack!”

Throwing his head back, he sighed. Lizzie appeared ready to pass out, and Lydia’s beam was starting to fade. How was he supposed to break the power armour meant to kill a God? Especially when it was attached to a behemoth whose steps were shaking the ground.

But he wasn’t moving.

Jack grinned.

“Alright, Satan,” he shouted, pumping his fist. “Dig the wax out of those infernal ears of yours and listen up! You think we have no hope? There’s always hope! Even in the darkest moments, in the deepest despair, people’s hearts will always seek light!”

Sagging to her knees, Lydia gasped. The beam disappeared, and Satan sprinted at them, his steps leaving divots in the cracked and shaking ground.

“Help me!” screamed Jack, hands cupped around his mouth. “I’m being attacked by a Giant Death Robot!”

Satan halted, face twisted in confusion. “Who are you calling a Giant Death Robot? I am the devil himself, the one who snuffs out that light you hold dear!” Raising his arm, the IGKA made a sharp whine, and a ring of turrets emerged from his wrist.

The tip of each one was glowing orange and yellow, the leaking heat washing over Jack.

“Die by Hellfire!” he said, firing.

Six streams of fire shot at him, and he scrambled to the side. Flames licked at him, the heat searing his legs; gazing back, he saw Lydia hadn’t moved. The ground was undulating.

Satan fired again.

He dashed back, pulling the limp Lydia away moments before she was incinerated, and cradling her head on his knees.. Coughing, she looked up with a weak smile.

“I’m done,” she said. “You can leave me, it’s my own fault.”

In an ironic twist, he harrumphed at her. “Don’t be an idiot. I told you, didn’t I; I’m not letting go!”

“How touching,” said Satan, aiming his Hellfire turret back at them. “But now there is no escape.”

At that point, he worried the tarmac may launch him towards space. He checked his watch.

“Why would I wanna escape?” he said, pointing down the road behind Satan. “It’s here.”

The devil turned, eyes gaping when he spotted a creature as big as he was.

This creature, though, was not clad in metal; it was made of it.

Huge steel bars crossed into lattices extending from thick, stubby legs that scuttled with precision. At the top, a windowed cube tapered to a point; had it had eyes, they would have certainly been narrowed.

“Impossible,” said Satan. “We checked the maps—that thing should be going around this area!”

Jack chuckled. “Did you never stop to think why the Tower has a set route? It’s patrolling for big metal things that want to destroy the city!”

Gritting his teeth, Satan pointed his wrist-turrets at the Tower. “No matter. IGKA was designed to kill God, so what have I to fear from a hunk of metal?” He fired.

In a symphony of screeching metal, the Tower bent over, pointing at Satan.

By her car, Lizzie felt herself slipping away. Her vision grew dark, and she couldn’t keep her neck straight, her head bobbing down. She sat on her heels, mind racing through the void.

Having found the space she needed to connect to, reality had hit her. The energy required.

There was a reason Gates were opened by teams.

But she would open it. Even if it cost her her life, she would give them the chance they needed to banish Satan, and stop the spread of Armageddon.

The Gate opened.

She couldn’t see it, but she could feel it: the hum of a different world in the air.

Her energy leached out. However, it felt warm; there was no bright light or shivering cold, just a hand on her shoulder as she felt herself revive.

Flicking her gaze up, she found a portly man with white hair and a blue suit. She said, “but… that’s…”

“A miracle?” said Azure.

“I was gonna say impossible,” she said, before falling unconscious in his arms.

The Tower’s charge avoided every blast, leaving Satan chewing his lip when the metal beast rammed its point into his chest. Cracks webbed out across the IGKA. A few pieces fell free, Satan grunting as he embraced it and pushed.

They were locked in stalemate, the sound of Satan’s feet upturning the road joined by the metallic scratching of his hands crushing the Tower.

Behind him, the Gate blinked into existence.

Rubbernecking, Jack spotted Azure with Lizzie, waving as he focused his energies on the ripples.

Satan pushed the tower back, only a little, but enough to turn the tide. With a bestial howl, he braced his legs to pick it up, twisting his hips in an effort to disrupt its balance.

A tiny figure popped out of one of the top windows. The wind whipped at his shirt and hair, and light erupted from him, the scraping of a sword being unsheathed ringing through the street.

Sam pelted along the Tower’s side, blade raised above his head. His face was set to a determined frown, unbothered by the height or precariousness of his attack; he focused only on the creature before him.

“This strike is not in the name of God! This strike...” he hollered, his voice carrying to the ears of all present, “is in the name of the world!”

Leaping from the tip, he brought Excalibur down on the IGKA’s helm, instantly shattering it. The pieces crashed down around them, and Jack shielded Lydia with his body.

She pinched his hip, provoking a recoil, and held up her hand: shards of metal slid away, a dome of invisible force protecting them.

Satan screamed. Excalibur carved down through him, leaving a wound that both glowed and spurted blood. The IGKA disintegrated, holy light burning it to atoms.

As Sam reached the ground, a pair of black wings swooped down, lifting him back into the air. Next to Jack and Lydia, it had also deposited a monochrome girl with tears in her eyes.

Satan wobbled.

“Jack!” said Hannah, running over and smothering him with a hug. He was still on his knees, so he felt a little awkward with his face in her solar plexus. A nose could do a lot of damage there.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!”

He smiled. “Me too, kid.”

Her head bobbing around, her eyes drooped as they fell on Lydia. “Is she okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Lydia, coughing. “And I’m sorry, too.”

“You are? You?” She pursed her lips in understanding. “What for?”

Stammering, Jack didn’t let her answer. “She’s sorry, uh… that we didn’t let you in on the plan!”

Hannah squinted. “The plan?”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “There was no way we could beat all the assembled forces of Hell, right? So she went undercover. Saved my life.”

Usually, one punishes people to teach them they need to atone; when that person is fully aware of their sins and committed to fixing them, is punishment any more than revenge?

He didn’t know, but he didn’t want Lydia and Hannah’s relationship becoming strained. Even if he could forgive her, would she?

Nodding, Hannah kneeled next to her and smiled. “I’m glad. For a minute, I thought you’d done something really stupid.”

They both looked sideways at each other; he decided to dub this one Promise of Pain. Then, they laughed. Satan was teetering on the edge of oblivion, about to fall into the red ripples leading to Hell.

Something gnawed at his stomach, and his laughter stopped. “I wonder if any Maccies survived Armageddon? I’m starving.”

The other two laughed harder.

Satan fell backward, soaked in blood with a disbelieving countenance. 

Then the Gate wasn’t there. Neither were the boiling pools of magma, the cracks in the road, and the destruction caused not just by Armageddon, but the Bakeneko too. 

Blackpool was back to its original state; the cawing of seagulls seemed almost peaceful as the Tower plodded away.

He blinked, and they were surrounded by scores of demons held frozen in the air. The mix was eclectic, but they all shared the same terrified expression.

“Go on, then, what do you have to say for yourself?”

The voice was deep and comforting, seeming to originate from all around them.

They gawked at each other. It couldn’t be.

Growling, Satan glowered at the sky. “Fuck you, dad. If you want to bar me from Heaven for eternity, that’s fine, but you could have at least let me pick up my stuff! I want my limited edition Transformeow figures back; they’re older than the universe!”

Hundreds of yellow glares fixed upon the devil.

“You’re tellin’ me…”

“We did all this…”

“For a bunch of toys?!”

The mass of demons converged on their leader. Savaging him, they didn’t let up for a second, tearing away pieces of grey skin and widening the present wound.

Beneath them, a pit of fire widened in the road, swallowing them before closing again.

Jack leaned back, breathing a sigh of relief. He scouted around, noticing Sam and Azure leading a teenage boy out of the gate; Alex, presumably.

A blue hatchback approached, and Alex ran off towards it. The man who got out looked similar to his son, but more haggard and weary.

Azure carried Lizzie, who was murmuring in her sleep, over to the rest of the group. “I do believe she overexerted herself.”

“That voice,” said Sam, “that was God?”

“Yes. He seems to have reverted the world to normal, too.”

“Including the stuff that was entirely Lydia’s fault,” said Jack, smirking.

She groaned. “If I could move, rest assured that I would hurt you.”

Sniggering, he eyed the rest of the group. “So, who’s hungry?”

***

After taking Lizzie home, they lunched, before the trio returned to his office.

Lydia insisted she only needed rest, so they supported her back.

Sam left them there, claiming he had received divine providence. He didn’t elaborate any further.

Azure and Crow, having paid their fee, went back to their lives in London, pretending to be human despite the fact angels and demons didn’t even make the top ten for weird shit of the week.

When they arrived, he was delighted to find Choo-chooin sunning himself as though nothing had happened. Which, technically, it hadn’t.

He was significantly less delighted to see Barry next to him, red-faced and claiming that the apocalypse was no excuse to not pay his rent.

Azure’s payment lasted a grand total of eighty-six minutes.

Once again, he was penniless.

AN: I'm so emotional right now, I'm almost crying. I can't believe it's over already. Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck with the absurdity and clunky attempts at emotion in this, my first ever web-novel. That anyone at all wants to read my work (and what's more, tune in every day for it!) is astounding. Thank you so much, readers, and please be sure to join me on Monday for my next work, The Supernormal Volume 3!