Heaven, much like hell, is just another city for the dead. Tall, luminous buildings shine with an aura that surrounds everything and everyone in Heaven. The roads take New York’s claim to fame and turn it into reality as gold seems to be the only material present in this paradise. Each golden street, no matter how many times it may weave through the city, ends up leading to the great throne.

This throne is much like a kings alter, just much more beautiful. The entire thing, made of gold, has not a scratch in it and still shines as perfect as it did the day it was created. Surrounding the seat of the Great One are many elite guards; spears, pikes, and long swords at hand for defense. Any newcomer to heaven that must visit the lord must first be intimidated by the circle of elites.

God sits at his throne, day and night, running Heaven as if it were a theme park. His white eyes scan over his city constantly as a lighthouse scans over the ocean. He is much like any other angel, just simply stronger and more commanding. An order shouted from him will echo throughout the city until it reaches he who it was directed too. Most of the orders and demands are received by the few remaining archangels, who are the untainted protectors of Heaven.

These archangels, being survivors of the previous Angel Wars, are the leaders of Heavens Army of God. The archangels, while still watching over the Gate to Purity, must also train the angels to fight in the upcoming war. After their training is complete, the invasion will begin; and for the first time in Heaven’s history, the Gate to Purity will be left unguarded.

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“What has happened to our scouts? They were not to enter combat!” The monstrous voice of the Lord echoes throughout Heaven, even though the one he speaks to is standing at the foot of his throne.

“I think he has his minions patrolling the Promised Land already. Our scouts could have run into a group of them.” The Archangel Michael bowed his head at the Lord, feeling as if he has failed in some way.

“Lift your head, Michael. I hold this not against you.” God’s voice calmed a bit, though Michael could feel anger surge through the Great One. “He must know of our plan, then.”

“Indeed, my lord. Chances are he has his army waiting at the gate.”

“Why would he have his army wait? He mustn’t know that first strike gives the best advantage.”

“My lord, maybe he thinks if we strike first, the humans will weaken us just enough for his forces to take us down.” Michael cringed a bit, awaiting the angered response from his master.

“Then he must know about them.” God’s voice grew louder and more dangerous.

“But Lord, I thought they were just mere myths told to keep our army aware at all times.” Michael’s eyes squinted a bit, trying his best to remember the stories told.

“No… no. They are real… and the only reason they exist is because of Lucifer.”

“Why did Lucifer betray us… and then Hell?”

“Satan spat out lies to Lucifer, and during the time of the war, he thought I was going to betray the archangels. At the end of the war he was banished to hell with the others, as you know, and his anger was no longer geared toward me but towards his fellow demons, when he learned of the Devils betrayal to heaven.” The Lord’s voice seemed almost sympathetic for Lucifer as he spoke.

“So, Lucifer believes that the only race worth saving is humanity?”

“Indeed. He sees them as the bringers of life.” A pause in the Lord’s speech was never a good thing, and Michael started to back away slowly. “He also pities them for worshipping a false god.”

“How could he see you as a false god?” The archangel seemed almost hurt at this comment.

“The people of the Promised Land view me as a bringer of life, but in the passed millennia I have done nothing but take life for my army.”

Michael hesitated. “Understood, my Lord.”

“Listen to me. There is no more such a thing as pure, and the humans are starting to see that. The angels lost that purity in the Angel Wars, for that which kills can not be pure. This is why we need the Promised Land, for the possessor of that land will not need to be pure to be worshipped. The controllers of the Promised Land will be viewed as the almighty beings, especially through the eyes of the inhibitors of Hell.” God paused again, his eyes scanning over his paradise city slowly. “We shall take the pre-emptive strike, Michael… and we will wipe out those,” God’s voice deepened and seemed angry once again, “hybrids.”