The city, the broken streets, the rain—all of it vanished.
In the blink of an eye, they were elsewhere.
God had made a space that wasn't a place at all. No walls, no sky, no ground—just endless light layered with shadows that curved like galaxies. A table stretched across it, long enough that it seemed to split eternity in half. At it sat every one of His children, summoned whether they wanted it or not.
Lucifer leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, crimson eyes still lit from the fight. Michael sat across from him, battered but upright, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword though it hummed faint, tired sparks. The air between them was tight, like one wrong word would split the table in two.
Around them, the others filled their seats.
