Hyun: The King

Light explodes in the night and throws everyone back onto our backs. The armies of Heaven and Hell dissolve in strands of gold and black dust, the light burning them away into nothing.

My back twinges painfully as I sit up, shielding my eyes. The thought of Coach being caught somewhere within this light explosion pushes me to my feet. I push myself towards the light and the strangest feeling washes over me: comfort. The closer I get, the more my fear melts away.

Until I see Michael, sword still poised over Coach. The fear and panic return. I run at top speed to slam into Michael.

I pause.

I didn’t want to stop, I’m just forcibly held entirely immobile. That light begins to dim and I realize I’m not the only one who is physically stuck. Michael’s swordpoint actually touches Coach’s chest, but goes no further.

“Enough,” says a voice.

I can’t turn my head, but in my peripheral the sun-like glow vanishes, a figure in its place. It walks towards Michael and Coach, and I see that the figure is a man. A guy in a white cardigan over a black t-shirt, denim, and a pair of white trainers. He reaches down to take Michael’s sword in one hand, already holding Coach’s in his other, and steps back.

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My body is freed from its frozen position, and I fall forward onto my face. The staff skitters across the ice. Shit. I don’t see it going well for me if I manage to lose that.

“Hyun.” Large pale hooves block my view and Death runs up beside her mount, reaching down to bring me to my feet.

“He’s unharmed,” says a relieved voice. Raphael?

All those who are left begin gathering around and behind me. I can feel the tension rolling off them in thick waves. But I keep staring at the guy holding Coach and Michael’s swords.

That’s when Michael’s frozen body pitches forward. He manages to land hard on his side instead of on top of Coach, who groans while managing to sit up.

“Hello, Father,” he says.

Death inhales something like a gasp; it’s quiet but I hear it, along with War’s “oh, shit.” The Four Horsemen immediately drop to one knee -- all of them. Raphael, Gabriel, and Uriel, too, bow their heads. Ramiel’s the only one of the angels who keeps his head high. His eyes are trained on Coach; he twitches with a clear desire to run to him.

Maybe he should have Raphael look at Coach because he looks like he’s quite literally been to Hell and back.

Father.

I must have hit my head on the ice too hard. Father. That means...that means this guy is…

“You’re...you’re God?”