Chapter Text
It was a good day.
Aziraphale was extremely pleased with himself, which wasn’t just about the prospect of returning to his bookshop. For the past few months, he had left no stone unturned in his efforts to push through reforms, fighting the resistance of the other archangels and, above all, the Metatron. Today, Heaven and Hell were on the brink of being severed from the fate of humanity. Neither angels nor demons would ever interfere with human lives again; from now on, humanity would decide its own path. Only one signature from the Metatron and it would be sealed. Then his time up here would finally come to an end too. He was a little afraid of facing Crowley, but that was secondary for now. Three years he had endured it here, enough was enough.
He took a deep breath, gathered all his courage, and knocked on the massive door to the Metatron’s office. To his surprise, the door opened and the Archangel Michael stepped out. She bowed her head in respectful greeting to the higher-ranking angel.
„Supreme Archangel.“
„Michael, did the Metatron summon you?“ He could not remember giving Michael such an order.
„There was an issue with a signature. Rest assured, Supreme Archangel, that everything is running correctly. He is already expecting you!“
Aziraphale hesitated. Something felt strange.
„He is already expecting you!“ Michael repeated, a sharp, unreadable smile cutting across her face. Aziraphale offered a polite nod and stepped past her, but as he reached for the door handle, a sudden, heavy silence fell over the corridor. The massive doors didn’t lead into the Metatron’s office. Behind them lay only the cold, glowing light of the celestial elevator—and it was already open.
“I am afraid there is no meeting, Supreme Archangel,“ Michael’s voice echoed, cold and devoid of its prior reverence.
Aziraphale spun around, his heart sinking. „What do you mean? The Metatron—“
“The Metatron anticipated your little rebellion months ago,“ Michael interrupted, stepping forward as two corporate-looking lower angels blocked the exit.
„He knew you would try to sever humanity from our influence. You were allowed to succeed, Aziraphale. Because a humanity left entirely to its own devices is a humanity that will destroy itself without us ever lifting a finger. Heaven wins by default.“
Aziraphale backed away, his back hitting the cool glass of the elevator.
„No... I won’t let you.“
“You won’t remember even if you tried,“ Michael said calmly, raising a hand wrapped in a blinding, silver light.
„The Metatron’s orders were strict. Delay you at the elevator. Erase the rebellion. Erase the reforms.“ Michael’s eyes flashed with cruel satisfaction. „And most importantly, erase every single memory of your precious life... and that demon.“
Before Aziraphale could scream, the elevator doors snapped shut, and the blinding silver light consumed his vision. He could feel the elevator instantly grinding into motion without a single second of delay, but he had not the faintest idea where it was taking him.