"Have I fallen so far that the deaths I have made possible no longer take a place in my heart? What is the point of suffering the tribulations Heaven chose for me if my own humanity is absent? Who do I beg for mercy? Vividly, in my mind, I remember the children Genova killed on television. She was lost, my blue angel. I should have protected her against herself but I've failed to do so. Her body, Heaven. Let me see her body. Let me bury her body and see for myself if she is with you, resting, or in Gehenna, burning. I see a faint image of happiness, and it lets me chase it down the road of redemption. I've crossed every line and still have the arrogance of thinking I'm in the right. I've left that place a long time ago. I make my way of what I find. And right now I find myself lacking conviction. Пожалуйста. Something. A sign. For faith without conviction is insult. I now realize that knowing the whereabouts of Genova is not about keeping ego intact but rather getting closure for once in my life. If it is unbeknownst to me that she's in hell, I have to be aware of it as soon as possible. I am none but the one with the gift. And no one else is named Ismael on this planet but me. One gift for one man."
Ismael was on the verge of collapsing. He had reached an interstate train station that only few people were using by now, and stopped by this entrance in the wall, bricks all around forming a door-like passage beneath the rails. He sat by the grass, backed against the rough wall and closed his eyes, letting the tears flow naturally, without fighting back.
"Genova is dead. That I remember. Basil Morgan is dead. Mateni Tarima is dead. Raven and I. Raven and I have to find peace in a proper country. To rejoice within the righteousness of God, find happiness and die old. For our friends in hell could not bear to see us alive and sad while they decompose for eternity. Not for my sake nor hers but theirs. We owe them this. Whether we sent them there or not. The Killing of Nara. Our sins. Our kills. Our murders. The blood on our hands and the sand in our eyes that blinds us to this day. You wanna know something, angel? I vividly remember seeing my friends smile at Nara. I remember smiling too. Ignorant, happy, compelled, satisfied and free. At my peak I was at my worst. Yet I trembled not and saturated my life of evil, staining my veins of black, ruining my chances of atteigning Heaven the right way. Nara was a disaster. We saw the assassinations take place before the war and somehow accepted every single one of them, for they told us and assured us that they would be paid in honor in due time. Raven made sure they told us the truth, in bombing our childhood country. She made sure they would never lie to us or to anyone ever again, that they would go in truth, leaving us with one good deed, surely so. No more parcs nor school. That bench, erased with no trace and almost none of us to remember it. Raven is probably feeling more devastated than I am at the moment. She loved every inch square of Cressenie. We will never recover from that. I saw her, didn't I? Now that I remember. I saw her and left in fear. I fled the scene instead of engaging. No contact, no connection. Maybe that face was not full of chaos and will of destruction as I presumed but misery and regret. I can see it, angel. With my very own two pierced eyes. I blame myself. In due time I'll be making it right. Or in due time I'll be the one to be judged for my cowardness."
"Lives intertwine in divinity, if not, in despair. The idea that the fence belongs to humanity was a trait of the devil himself. Your soul, while in your keep, in nature belongs to the Holy. Your friends dwell wherever they made their nest. If in a summer place full of life and joy, then the foundations were not those of the very stone of Brennenburg but rather the fragile wood of the beach. If you, in winter, harsh conditions and grinding teeth, you've made your nest all alone in pain and anguish, your basis shall remain solid until you finally reach out to God's hand. Those who stay as low as the world do not get as high as God, they remain on the ground and can only look up. But you, who built and built and built relentlessly all this seemingly eternal winter, ended up so high, God had to only deploy a finger, which you responded in terms. If, as opposite of you your friends were, their actions led them to their demise, then you shall forbid yourself their presence as to ensure your reunion with Lord God. In due time, Ismael, you shall not be judged. You shall be blessed."
"What about the vainquished of useless wars? The parents of Nicole, that I've slaughtered, where are they?"
"The trusty and faithful familial nest is the highest of them all. It shines already at the Gates of Heaven. God only has to open the doors to see his children."
"Is repentance enough? Will my judgement on Earth carry meaning? Will I perfectly expiate as I should?"
"You will, for the path that was meant for you opens up constantly to your vision. Blind, I was sent to be of use. To clear out the darkness."
"Angel."
"Yes, Ismael?"
"I'm starving. Why am I starving? I thought I was dead."
"Haha. You will find, sir, that the very thing you hunger for is not food but the Word."
"Can I eat that?" Ismael asked, mirroring the smile of his angel.
"Words for thoughts, sir. One step at a time, overcoming obstacles."
"Permission to sleep?"
"When did you ever ask for permission for anything?"
"I just...thought that...I was seeing myself as a bother for you. I'm sorry, angel. For a being so holy to be stuck with me. You must truly feel...punished."
Ismael fell asleep, this time looking as dead as he technically is. Yet peaceful.
"I'm already blessed, young man. I found solace in a truly disturbed world."