The priest printed the photo from the 1897 article and then went back to the painted portrait of Diego Colon Columbus. He printed that image as well. Lastly, he open the photo of Diego and him on his phone from that morning and printed that.
He placed the three photos next to one another and looked in disbelief. The three images appeared to be the same man over a period of four hundred years.
Looking back on that moment, the priest understood now what had seem improbable before. He looked at Diego and wondered where exactly he had been. He knew Diego’s task and hoped his appearance was a positive sign.
To Diego, the moment was surreal. Only hours before, he had been pleasantly intoxicated in the arms of a naked woman. Then, Juan entered the room and told him he must come and help with preparations for the Ark.
Diego had paused to gaze at the woman and she conflicted his duty by sliding the blanket down to expose her full breasts. Diego turned to tell Juan that he needed a little while longer but knew by Juan’s expression that any discussion was fruitless. Reluctantly, he slid from the bed and told his affair that he would be back, even though he knew he wouldn’t.
Now, he had returned to face the Watchers. As he took in his new surroundings, he hoped Juan was okay.
Enoch stood to the side and watched the approaching army. As the Voice of God, he knew many things; he had known this time would come. What he didn’t know was how it would end. The free will of man had the ability to change everything or keep everything the same.
He spotted the priest in the crowd and knew his doubts. If Enoch had been in the priest’s shoes, he would have wondered the same thing: Where is God?
But Enoch knew the truth. God could end the Watchers but that would eliminate free will. It had to come down to free will.
Enoch turned his attention to Diego. Diego was always the instigator in a skirmish and Enoch expected no different now. Diego did not disappoint; he caught Enoch’s gaze and winked.
Diego drew the sword given to him as a gift by Rehoboam and charged the throne. As he ran, his soul awoke and he called for blood and death.
He reached the Morning Star and smashed into him. The others took Diego’s cue and attacked. Swords and spears were thrust and thrown and the air was filled with the resonance of combat.
Soon the sounds of dying men joined the timbre as the Watchers began to slaughter the Sons of Cain. Shamsiel and the angels slowed the human carnage with their ire. Enoch was mesmerized, watching the waves of opposing angels colliding into each other. Until this moment, he had never seen another angel die. God had always forbidden the killing of angels but it seem the Watchers had changed that.
The result of an angel’s death was unique: the body would simply evaporate back into the matter of existence.
Even so, Enoch knew it would not be enough. Total victory fell on Juan and Enoch knew he couldn’t do it alone. He made sure the Watchers were distracted and disappeared.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
If Juan was going to lose Baraqiel, it would have to be in Dudael. Plus, as long as the Morning Star was distracted by Diego, Juan could move and conceal the Ark deep within Dudael as planned.
Baraqiel arrived a moment after Juan. Juan had prepared for Dudael and knew the direction he would take the Ark but would delay so Baraqiel couldn’t follow him.
He watched Baraqiel and waited for the disorientation to set in. Baraqiel came towards Juan, his face twisted with rage and of a single murderous notion. Then suddenly, Baraqiel stopped and the expression of rage turned to confusion. He meandered aimlessly, unsure of his setting and purpose.
That is exactly what Juan anticipated. Dudael was a prison for angels so Juan was not impacted but Baraqiel definitely was. He walked towards Baraqiel and motion caught his eye. He turned, prepared to face more Watchers but saw Enoch instead.
Juan smiled at Enoch; they had accomplished what was necessary. Now Juan could take the Ark where it would not be found. He picked up the Ark and changed direction towards Enoch.
Baraqiel watched Juan approach. He was not expected to be lucid but Baraqiel effectively sold that he was disoriented; Dudael was beginning to take effect but not as quickly as he feigned. He let Juan reach him before he brought his sword up from the ground. With a swing of his arm, Juan was ripped open from his left shoulder to the middle of his right side.
Nearly cut in two, Juan dropped the Ark and slid sideways to the ground. His blood poured onto the ground and flooded the discarded Ark.
“No!” Enoch screamed helplessly.
Baraqiel smiled tauntingly at Enoch, thoroughly enjoying Juan’s death. He raised his sword and the blood of Juan dripped from the sword onto the ground.
Baraqiel’s smile ignited a deep, ancient rage in Enoch. Enoch rose into the air and transformed into the archangel Metatron. He reached out and grabbed Baraqiel by the throat and squeezed. As he squeezed, he looked at Baraqiel and briefly considered imprisoning him in Dudael for eternity. Then, he changed his mind and instead of sending him into eternal bondage, Metatron slaughtered Baraqiel. He felt no remorse.
He turned and looked back at where Juan’s body had fallen. He went to his side with a glimmer of hope but it was for naught. Juan was dead.
Metatron picked up the blood-drenched Ark. As he did, he recalled all the bloodshed that the Ark had brought through the millennia. Juan’s death confirmed it was time to end what had occurred.
