A/N: I don't own any of the characters in the story. They all belong to the creators of Supernatural.

This first chapter just sets up the conflict of the story, and the real story actually starts in the next chapter. Thanks for reading! Please read and review.

Prologue

As a general rule, archangels did not involve themselves with the problems on Earth, unless God commanded it. This was the current stance taken by the remaining archangels. In the absence of Michael and following the death of Raphael, the earth was entrusted with its own survival, with limited divine intervention.

However, the recent intrusion of the Leviathans into the business of heaven had changed this policy considerably.

Dick Roman sat down in his expensive leather chair with a sigh, having recently dealt with the insubordination of several of his inferiors on the east coast. A few of his subordinates had lost control of themselves and devoured an entire office building in Michigan. Luckily, the incident was contained locally, and with his connections, Roman was quickly able to crush any sort of national outcry, but he had been forced to bib the offending members of the party. He held no personal feeling of regard for these compatriots, but losing members of his already limited number was an annoyance to be avoided.

Roman rubbed his eyes and took a swig of whiskey from his cut-glass tumbler. He had no physical need for sustenance, but found the bitter taste pleasing to his limited human senses. He glanced around his sparse, modern office with approval. After the disgusting chaos of purgatory, he enjoyed the order of this albeit primeval world. Unlike other members of the Leviathans, Roman did not despise taking human form. He found that the sense of being encased in a physical form provided a feeling of control that he found pleasing. The other Leviathans were all too quick to eat humans, but they didn't understand the ramifications of this act and what it could do to his plan.

With a crash of thunder and gust of wind that Roman found ridiculously dramatic, two men suddenly appeared in front of his desk. Dick Roman sighed and raised his dark, teeming eyes to meet those of the archangels in front of him.

One of the angels was slight and had a shock of white hair atop his head. He stood with his eyes slightly downcast, but instead of exhibiting a sense of humility, the man possessed an inner might that suggested he could level an entire building if the need arose. This was Sealtiel, the intercessor of God.

The other was large and brawny, with short brown hair and hard eyes. He stood at a sturdy stance, glaring directly at the creature in front of him. Jegudiel had no patience within him for ambiguities or inaction, and believed the situation on Earth had gone on too long without intervention.

"Your ringers have slaughtered a prophet of the Lord." Jegudiel stated without preamble.

Roman stood up slowly, meeting the height of Jegudiel. "Yes, they have. I have no need of prophets in my new world order."

"The slaughter of a prophet is unforgivable. Your insubordination will be punished." Sealtiel broke in, raising his cold white eyes to meet those of Roman's black orbs.

"It is not considered insubordination if I have no superior authority to defy." Roman stated simply. This statement angered Jegudiel, and he stepped forward with a thunderous expression.

"God is superior to all beings in the cosmos. And you would do well to remember that. To me, you are merely slime underfoot. I will not hesitate to crush you."

Dick shook his head. "I don't come from either of your God's realms. My origin is separated from your authority."

Sealtiel spoke up from behind Jegudiel's furious expression, exhibiting cool authority. "Purgatory is contained inside the cosmos, and as such is under our control. Earth is also not under yours. We will not tolerate you destroying God's work."

Sealtiel raised a hand and waved it toward Jegudiel, who stepped forward with his arm outstretched, prepared to smite the Leviathan and send him back to purgatory. However, Roman reached down to his desk, sweeping aside the papers held there, and pressed his hand to an Enochian sigil placed on the mahogany. The archangels disappeared in a holy blast of white light, their hair seeming as if on fire, and furious expressions on their faces.

Dick Roman strode to the telephone, ready to contact his second-in-command. He knew that the archangels would return before long, and next time they would be prepared. Roman knew he had to prevent them from distorting his plans.