I knelt there for hours. I didn't move. I don't think I even blinked.

My sobs eventually stopped at some point. As though my brain was trying to work through a thick field of cotton, I vaguely became aware of the fact it had gone quiet. A little while later, I began noticing angels walking around me in my peripheral vision.

I was, at the time, dimly sad the fighting was done. I would have embraced being killed by Paimon. I would have gladly welcomed being ripped apart by a Nephlim. i wouldn't have even minded being captured and tortured by a Watcher, and then handed over to a Fallen. As morbid as it was, I would have gladly taken on Malael's imprisoned station.

I deserved it. I didn't save Mikha'el. And perhaps more to the point, feeling that I needed punishment for my failure, I didn't want to live in a reality where Mikha'el didn't exist.

Time ticked by but I wasn't aware of it. All I could think about was Mikha'el. The first time we met. How scared I was the first time I saw his true form. The dichotomy of our relationship, how strange it was to be petrified of who was also your best friend.

I lamented over everything he taught me. I thought about how my fear and respect slowly turned into trust and understanding. I couldn't get over how we eventually became equals, or at least in his mind, because I never truly believed I belonged on the same pedestal of greatness he belonged in.

It was when it occurred to me that we would never have our late night discussions, quarrels, and philosophical discussions at the tavern did I begin to sob again. He would never put me in my place again when he thought I was being too blasphemous. He would never seek me out for opinions when God was being ridiculous.

I had lost my confidant. I had lost the only person I felt comfortable telling my troubles to. No more did I have anyone I could show my weaknesses to. No longer would I be able to stare upon the living beauty that was Mikha'el, with his sunshine smile, his bronze skin, his straw colored curls. I wondered how many angels had ever noticed when he laughed, really laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkled delightfully.

I retched when I abruptly realized I would never feel him again. No more tingling when he touched my shoulder. No more relief would wash over me if I was injured and he came to my aid. I would never open my eyes and have his worried yet relieved visage staring down at me.

No one was there to save me anymore.

I finally threw up. It was excruciating because of my wound but I didn't care. Nothing mattered. I didn't matter.

I was surprised when I was suddenly draped in a blanket. Confused, I looked over.

A beautiful angel stood before me, and then squatted down. She had ringlets of black hair that put Shirley Temple and Judy Garland to shame. Her skin was smooth, radiant, a supple dark brown. Her eyes were two caring pools of brown love. Her lips, plump and supple.

Had I not been so numb from Mikha'el's death I would have seen this first interaction for what it was—love at first sight.

"Come, Sera. Let's get you some rest. You have a big day tomorrow."

Still shell-shocked from all that happened, I forgot myself, wondering how this two-winged angel dressed in scholar's robes that I had never seen before knew my name. I also didn't know what she meant by "I had a big day tomorrow".

She led me back to my abode, which had, thankfully, sustained little damage. On the way we had to pass Mikha'el's house, and I wept silently but bitterly. Without a word, the angel wrapped an arm around me and gave a squeeze.

Medics were waiting for me. They asked if I was injured, and if so, where. I didn't answer. I didn't even look at them. So, they poked and prodded me, healing whatever injuries they could find. Finally, they left me alone.

The black-haired angel was hesitant to let me be. She talked to herself for awhile, on account of I refused to answer her. Eventually she gave up, put a kidd on the top of my head, and left.

I slumped sideways onto my bed which I had been sitting on and stared at nothing.

Sleep came to me fitfully. Every time I managed to get to sleep, I dreamed about the war and Mikha'el. I didn't sleep much.

The following morning I was collected by two guards in full plate armor. They told me to come with them. Without question I followed. If this were some sort of trap, good.

Sadly, it was not. I was led to the great convention hall. From there I was led to the very front.

God's throne sat, empty and unused. I was placed besides it and Jesus. He began to give a speech, one of which I only half listened to. It was a speech of perseverance, of hope and compassion. It was about what had happened, and in the face of adversity Heaven was still standing, and we should all be proud and love one another.

I couldn't have cared less.

My ears finally perked up when he began to talk about Mikha'el. He was beloved, irreplaceable. How once Heaven was restored to its full glory, a massive monument would be built in his honor.

Even with this new information I was only half-listening. It wasn't until Jesus began to speak of God's Plan, and how we needed to persevere forward without looking back, did I start to understand why I was standing in front of everyone. The only son of God began to speak of redundancies, of carefully planned out backup plans.

With horror I remembered those hundreds of years ago when Mikha'el confided in me that I would take his place as Archangel Primus should he ever die or be otherwise incapacitated and unfit for duty.

I twisted around to face Jesus, my mouth dropping open. He winked at me. He had the audacity to wink at me!

I turned back to face all of Heaven. And as Jesus declared me Archangel Primus, and the tattered uniform I wore was transformed into a new one with green piping, I began to weep. I didn't care who saw me. I cried in front of all of Heaven as they sang and applauded their new leader.

All but one. The black-haired angel from the previous night stood two rows back. Our eyes locked.

She was the only one to view me with the sympathy I deserved.

~

I didn't speak for weeks. I refused to. I refused to leave my house.

My friends visited daily. They all tried to get me to talk. I refused. After a point they a talked at me, no longer expecting an answer.

Malael and Zera visited daily, making me dinner. They made sure I ate. Malael was always sure to male me my favorites. I think it was because otherwise I wouldn't have eaten, and she was trying to bring some joy to my life.

It didn't work.

Zera told me of the innocent trouble he and Zagreus got into. It was all benign. I was told that, begrudgingly, Hades was starting to expect him at his son's side whenever he saw Zagreus in the Underworld.

I never laughed.

I was silently grateful he was trying, though.

When the archangels came, I couldn't look at them. They looked too much like Mikha'el, and it was unbearably painful. Yes, their complexions were different, and Auriel and Metatron had different builds, but otherwise they were all interchangeable. Slap a blonde curly wig on Metatron and give him some blue contacts and he would just be Mikha'el, only skinnier.

I hated it.

Finally Auriel showed up one day, basket in hand. I was confused but didn't say anything. Obviously. I followed him into the kitchen as he slammed the double-lidded container down on the table and immediately began pulling out various items. I was expecting food, but there were jars, and candles, and what was unmistakably Holy Water.

He spat as he talked to me, looking at the items he was slamming down instead of me.

"Seraphin, this has gone on long enough. We all miss Mikha'el. Of course we do. He was my brother. The second I have lost in a relatively short period of time, mind you."

I didn't speak. He turned to me and I looked at my shoes.

"But for Heaven's sake, Sera, you're Archangel Primus. Fucking act like it."

I still just looked at my black-clad feet.

Auriel gave a disgusted snort and then went back to pulling items out.

"You act like you're the only one who lost someone in the war. You act like you're the only one who had buildings come tumbling down on their heads. You act like no one else lost their entire fucking families."

He slammed his fist down and I finally looked at him, startled.

"You act as though the burden of not being able to save a loved one is yours and yours alone."

I blinked. Auriel looked back at the basket, slamming one of the lids shut. He closed his eyes.

"You're being so fucking selfish in your grief."

I looked away. After a moment I heard him shuffling things around. Furtively I glanced at what he was doing. Currently he was lighting a candle in red glass. He caught me looking and I dropped my eyes again.

"Did you know that no one knows where God is?"

I looked at him. Truthfully I did know that. Occasionally I would listen into the angels talking, through the dimension that only angels reside in. So yes, I knew that during the Christmas War God had disappeared and hadn't come back yet.

I merely shrugged.

With a disgusted tsch, Auriel began to light another candle. I watched as he readied supplies, grinding something with a mortar and pistol. When he added the holy water, and opened up a large book he had brought, my curiosity finally got the best of me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice low and husky from not speaking for so long. I cleared my throat.

"Ah! He speaks! Finally!"

When he didn't answer my question, I asked it again. He poured the contents into a golden bowl, sprinkled in some herbs, and began stirring. He turned to me, smiling broadly. "Oh this? This is just a spell that will expel you from this house, and I am going to put up trapped sigils so you can't get back in."

I was shocked. "You will do no such thing!"

Auriel put the bowl down and then threw his arm out, eyes glowing. I was thrown back into the wall behind me. I then watched as he stalked forward a few steps, and I cowered.

"I can and I will!" he shouted, unfurling his wings slowly. "Heaven is vulnerable right now, and I doubt we could withstand another incursion. God is missing. The angels are scared. They need you."

I looked away. "I'm no leader."

"I need you."

I looked at him. Auriel was crying. It broke my heart and I immediately rushed over, drawing him into my arms.

"I'm scared, Sera," he admitted to me. "No one knows what to do. There's chaos. Jesus is barely any help because it was never his place to run anything, so he doesn't know what to do, and—"

"What, and you think I do?"

Auriel pulled away and looked at me desperately. "No, but with no God and no Mikha'el, you're a figure head! I think your presence would help, even if but a short while."

Once more I looked away, and my gravely voice was bitter. "I didn't ask for this."

Auriel cupped my cheeks and made me look at him. "No one did. Please, Sera."

And that's how I became the de facto ruler of Heaven.