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INTERLUDE - The immortal game of Good and Evil

The hotel room was immersed in faint light, and over a large table, there was an old TV model, displaying various types of scenes. From wars and other kinds of conflicts, to more specific scenes, like a group of people chatting in an office, or a woman in suspenders walking aimlessly in the streets.

And at that very same table, sat two figures, playing a game of chess, each one thinking carefully before making their move.

One of them looked old.

Unnaturally old, as if his presence was older than time itself. With thin white hair, wrinkles all over his face, and milky white eyes, that seemed to see everything, everywhere.

The other one, sitting opposite to the old man, looked handsome. Like beyond the mortal concept of handsome.

He had black, wild-wavy medium hair, dark, brown eyes, and a calm expression, almost disdainful.

“Queen to G6” said Metatron, the scribe of God, withdrawing his King from a Pawn’s check. Meanwhile, scenes from a young girl mercilessly slaughtering a middle aged man, ran through the TV screen. Both pairs of eyes paid attention to the chessboard, but somehow, they were still paying close attention to the happenings unfolding on the TV screen too.

“You’re running out of options here, uncle.” Lucifer said, his tone sounding almost like a child having fun. “You even seem like your protégé out there... You know what I’m saying, right?” he smiled, looking wickedly at his uncle. ”Lost, desperate. Almost... As if you don’t know what move you should do from now on... Pawn to H5.” Lucifer said, tauntingly, as he concluded his play.

“You know nothing, foolish child.” The scribe of God said, his eyes glowing coldly, as if to show his adversary that he wasn’t taking the game as seriously as he should. “You really think that Nezariel killing that human will actually affect the scales of Good and Evil?”

On the screen, Nezariel’s body shone softly, as she descended with the crowbar a few more times. Her victim, shrieking loudly, but the TV’s volume was so low, that it could only be noticed by his expressions.

Lucifer kept going, his voice warm and soft.

“Do you really think that I’m betting on such low odds, without a solid reason at all? Uncle... You should know better by now, and it’s still your turn.”

Metatron let out an unconscious sigh, followed by a glimpse of exasperation in his eyes.

“Queen to G5.” the scribe said, moving his King to where it once was. “What do you think will happen, if the Wall is even slightly cracked?”

“I think you will have to bow down to the truth, that the concept of absolute Good and absolute evil is just as outdated as you yourself are, uncle...” the fallen archangel retorted, nonchalantly. “Also, you’ll have to stop doing that naughty thing you do. What was that again? Oh... Yes... Acting as if you’re Father!” Lucifer raised his hand to punch the table, but thought back, not wanting to mess up the beautiful game he built up until then. “Queen to F3.” he concluded.

“If anyone besides me heard you talking like this, one would even think that you love our father.” And as the scribe spoke, the scene on the screen changed to an all-out war. Bombs exploding, soldiers shooting against civilians, a total bloodshed. “Knight to G8.” Metatron said, while moving his piece and going on with his speech. “However, how can it be, if you were thrown into Sheol exactly because you wanted to take our Father’s place?”

“Bishop takes Pawn at F4.” Lucifer proceeded with his moves. “Wanting to take a Tyrant’s place, doesn’t mean one wants to become the tyrant. Different from you, actually, who not only wants to become our Father, but also is trying to lay the whole Haled to waste, just to be at the top of the food chain again.” the fallen one sighed out in frustration, waiting for his enemy to make his move. But then, decided to sting his adversary for a slight moment.

“Do you miss it so much? When we were the most loved creations of Father? Are you really that of a spoiled brat?”

That caused Metatron to flinch for the slightest of moments. His eyes sparked with what could only be the deepest outrage, the vastest anger. And when it happened, there was a wave of energy so powerful that it made the TV screen twitch, losing its image for a few moments.

And on they played...

Metatron and Lucifer, trying to make each other flush it all down and throw the whole game away.

However, when the signal went back, there was the image of a young woman, with just the same features of Nezariel. The only difference was her eyes, and that she was just arriving at the Haled, crossing the threshold between everything.

She appeared to be in pain, and the whole reality around her seemed to act strangely towards the woman.

“She isn’t my protégé anymore.” the scribe spat, completely out of the blue. “Queen takes Tower at A1” and he made the move. “How can I say she’s special... When she couldn’t even keep the Page of Justice locked in the Book of Life? Do you know what her sloppiness brought over us?”

“King to E2” Lucifer muttered to himself, starting to sound bored. “Your defeat is imminent, uncle. Also, is that what your fellow celestials are to you? Just mere tools to keep the powers of the Book of Life safe? Do you have no comradeship towards them?”

The scribe’s tone started to grow cold and emotionless.

“What is comradeship, Fallen? Is it what you harbour towards your fellow demons? Is it what made you sacrifice half of your sacred blood, to open the gates of Styx? Just so that your army could have a slight chance of stabbing us in the back...? Listen young child, this comradeship you speak of, has no value at all, if it can’t keep you alive to seize the power you conquer.” the old figure looked at the board, realising he only had one move. Metatron let out a sigh before announcing his only option. “Knight to A6. You know they’d betray you in less than a blink of an eye, right?”

“I know of it.” Lucifer replied, composed as if nothing ever changed his mood. “Or do you actually believe that I didn’t know of the demonic blood that stains the Page of Justice?"

Metatron’s eyes went wide, the only visible reaction in his body, ever since the duo started playing.

“Yes, uncle. I did know about it.” Lucifer kept going. “Knight takes Pawn at G7, check... One of my demons, one of my soldiers. And you thought, for real, that I wouldn’t know about this attempt of betrayal?” the fallen archangel laughed so loud, so heartedly, that the whole room started to echo with what felt like fun. “Oh, my uncle Metatron... You always think that you’re one movement ahead, but look at that very chessboard. Look as closely as you can.”

And Metatron did.

He looked closely with his eyes that could see past, present, and future.

And when he actually saw the scheme behind Lucifer’s moves and countermoves, the scribe fell silent.

“You know now, don’t you?” the archangel stated. A slightly crooked smile dancing in his lips. “Make your move.”

On the TV, a wild looking man smoked a cigarette, while holding a torn page.

“You’re not gonna get away with this.” the scribe said, his tone carrying such fear, that it seemed as if losing that game meant death. “You can’t put the fate of Heaven and Hell in the hands of a broken Ophanim!” Metatron looked flushed, almost ashamed and angry, while stating his move. “King to D8!”

“Queen to F6, check.” Lucifer’s voice was filled with indifference and boredom. It was as if he already knew the result of the game, and he probably did.

To confirm it, Metatron’s eyes displayed anger, and the TV showed Nezariel, with three companions, leaving what looked like a restaurant.

And the young who looked exactly like the Ophanim, on the other side of town, somehow chasing them.

“Knight takes Queen at F6!” the scribe of God chanted, as if he had already won the game. “Your pawns will never get out of the Haled alive, and my envoys will make sure of it!”

“Bishop to E7.” Lucifer called his uncle. “And I think this is checkmate.”

Metatron looked outraged, his lips twitched in pure disbelief.

“You don’t think you can counter my moves only because you can see time, do you?” Lucifer asked, rather softly, despite the enraged glare that Metatron directed towards him.

“You may be quite good at chess, child. But you better beware of what you bet with your... Moves and countermoves. They’ll mean nothing, once the Haled turns to mud once again!”

“Our Father was a far better adversary than you, uncle. Also, do you actually think that my... As you call them, pawns, don’t know about the other Pages?”

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