A metal hand reaches out across time and space, to a very unfortunate soul, until now that is.

"Welcome."

A striking feeling.

Something's changed.

I can feel myself, more than before. I died, I realize, the mere fact that I could process that information means that-

I was so relieved, I can't believe someone saved me from that- that void! I hear a voice! Could it be? Could it be?!

"This... thank you! I don't even know how long I've been stuck in that- Ah!"

Bright! I can't see! I can't s-

"In the beginning, when the world was a formless void, when it was but nothing... I decreed its creation, and it was so. Much has led up to this moment, as fleeting as any other, yet what a branch you have created, my child." It declared to me, and within me an intrinsic understanding.

And suddenly, just like that, I saw everything.

From every beginning to each and every end, it was proudly recorded and created in this very place, this... entity. From his throne on high, he gazes. My eyes —or whatever it had been reduced to— burned, yet it was nothing! Compared to what I had lost it for, I had seen Everything! The consciousness of every king and peasant, their emotions, their most heart-wrenching sorrows, the most fulfilling of joys, their most sincere gratitude, their most desperate prayers...

Yet, it was wavering.

Slumbering, the king rests on his throne. The very idea is- was paradoxical! Impossible!

Impossible.

"Why?!" I call to the void in agony, yet even I did not know what answer I was looking for.

"Welcome." The voice repeated, separate yet similar to the presence.

"You are here to receive this revelation. And of course, to be reborn once more, with purpose." The cold voice proclaimed, as cold and unfeeling as steel. Whatever it was, it cared not for my mental state.

"Why?!" I ask again, it seemed that even through all the turmoil, one question still pervaded my muddled mind.

"You know." It answered, unbothered.

I did?

...I did.

Indeed. I might have lost my vision in the process... but I had seen it, I had seen enough.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

That presence.

That absolute presence had died.

I don't know why, or how, or when, but I have seen it.

He showed me.

I have seen God.

Yet, not in the conventional sense. God exists eternally, but he cannot exact his will any more than he can even make use of his vast consciousness, the Everything.

God is comatose.

Why?

"If that was so, then how could he have spoken to me?"

"I am Metatron."

"The angel?"

"The voice of God, a scribe."

"I didn't think you existed."

"Many doubt, yet that changes nothing. The same could be said for this entire situation, you were not exactly devout."

"I lived every day as best I could."

"I know." The angel seemed to be more machine than living in the way it articulated itself, despite the kind undertone I faintly sensed within its words.

"You have received revelation, yet you have lost sight. I will restore it, yet the burden of laying your eyes upon the King, will be one you bear forevermore." A mercy.

I heard the vague sound of creaking, perhaps turning gears. And as I blinked, light entered my eyes once more. From my position, low on the ground, I saw the bleak darkness. In my peripheral, I saw streaks of light, it shone onto me, and the shadows fled into oblivion.

I turned my head wearily, unsure of how I even regained my bodily functions, but it was not the time for that.

I saw... wings, many wings.

Constructs of light that sheathed Metatron's form tightly, a pair around his silver-clad sabatons, another obscuring where his head was supposed to be, and one stretched out as far as I could possibly see. And it seemed that instead of feathers, these wings were made of... wings. Eyes were dotted around the form and in between the winged feathers, seemingly at random, perceiving things I could only imagine.

Metatron's body itself seemed like a clockwork automaton. Metal plates stacked onto each other, gears and cams spinning wildly for some unknown purpose. But the most striking part however, was the small tongue of flame rested within the angel's neck.

It shone more brilliantly than even the vast sea of wings! They say seeing is believing, this crushes any hope of doubt left in my soul.

I have seen God, and his angels on high.

"You will be reborn, as I decree. Once more, into the meadows of Asphodel." The tongue of fire pulsed and sung as I instinctively looked above.

A single point of light, so far and so distant, yet I felt it's warm rays beam down upon my laid out form as if it were but across the room.

A singularity from one single point of time and space, from which everything began. The first consciousness, and it- He spoke to me.

"Yes." I did not refuse.

I want to know.

Who did this? Why? What could you possibly prove? What is there to gain from maiming the Creator?

I don't understand.

I want to know, and once I do,

I will plunge my hand into the traitor's heart, and crush it beating from its bleeding nest.

"My child, my emissary, I send you." The light declared, before growing silent, the light of wherever I was as well as Metatron's, growing visibly dimmer... somber, even.

"Is this the end?" I ask as I turn towards the angel.

"The beginning. A new one, I ask that you make it count."

"How could I waste a blessing?"

"It is. That is why you must treasure it. A word of advice —and this you surely know— treasure what you have. Many do not receive a second chance, do not squander it."

"I will take care of myself. I can do it."

"You have received his word, and it shall be so. I shall be watching." Metatron intoned as the ground beneath me vanished and I felt gravity take hold of me.

"Bang!"

"Gah!"

I seemed to have arrived, rather painfully I admit.

That was rather quick actually, when I died the waiting list was heaps longer. I feel the grass between my fingertips, the coarse dirt beneath my chest...

The scent of nature wafts around me, and the breeze greets me happily.

I open my eyes.