Sophia's Chronicles

Chapter 55: Bleed for The Dancer, Fool

Rufus' Cabin, Whitefish, Montana – 7 November 2011, 8.02pm

Raziel barely broke a sweat teleporting the Winchesters with their car to their chosen location. He did it despite Dean's protests but what did they know about the Raziel's time constraint? "Ward the building. Wouldn't want anyone eavesdropping on us," he ordered them. Dean gulped in confusion and frowned. Who was this guy to give them orders? And that was just rude, zapping them away like that. He definitely wasn't prepared and he stumbled on the ground upon landing. Sam, on the other hand, simply rested an arm on the Impala to support his own weight to avoid falling. The brothers just needed a moment to collect themselves. "We don't have all night," Raziel urged them.

Rolling his eyes in mild resentment, Dean stormed off inside and bust out the spray paint. Raziel made himself comfortable, choosing to sit on the red couch in front of the rather messy table with empty beer bottles and takeaway boxes littered on it. This was the first moment of true calm he'd had in the last two days. A buzzing in his pocket caught his attention and he fished out his phone. 48 missed calls. 20 messages. All from his team. Feeling an ache of guilt, he cleared all the notifications. He'd told them all that he was taking a break from work – like a vacation – for a few days. No doubt that lie had unravelled spectacularly by now. Raziel didn't want to talk to any of them about what he was doing until he had something substantial to show for it. Otherwise, he was just putting them in danger by allowing Naomi to use them to get to him.

The whispers sounded loudly and clearly. Raziel flinched, putting two fingers to his temple as he focused. "Raziel is wanted for investigation," the voice on angel radio said. "I repeat, Raziel is wanted for investigation."

Shit. Now they were on the hunt for him. There really was no turning back now. This had all better be worth it.

"What is it?" Sam's voice snapped him out of it.

"It's the Home Office. They're hunting me now," Raziel replied honestly. After all, he did agree to answer their questions.

"Why? What do they want with you?" Sam pressed as he helped Dean out with the sigils.

"I'm onto something that someone up there doesn't want me to find out." There was a reason to this vagueness, of course. No one outside these four walls must hear what he had to say. As soon as the sigils were completed, the boys sat opposite him, across the table. Reassured by the contained room, Raziel told them what they needed to know. During that one hour, the Winchesters found out more about the situation in Heaven – how the power balance was uncertain, and how the angels' freedom rested in the balance. Assuming that Raziel was telling the truth, the Winchesters would have to trust him. Assuming being the key word. Bobby seemed to have trusted him to some extent. It was still a gamble regardless, just as it was for Raziel coming here.

Some of their questions were answered, some were not. But what truly mattered was the task the angel had cut out for them.

"Wait, in 6 hours?" Dean couldn't believe how little time they had left. "We won't be able to drive to Kansas in time!" Raziel gave him a knowing look and Dean suppressed rolling his eyes again. Instead, he resorted to a sigh as he nodded. "Right, you'll zap us there."

"Yes. And I take it you're familiar with making bombs?" Raziel checked.

"Yeah, no problem, but-" Sam leaned forward in his chair, his fingers intertwined as his elbows rested on his thighs. "But how are we going to rig the truck with all the angels guarding it?"

"Hm." Raziel hadn't thought of that. If they used a banishing sigil, it would immediately alert the angels on duty that something was wrong and he couldn't risk that. The whole thing would have to go down with no one suspecting a single thing to achieve maximal effect. An idea surfaced in his head. His first instinct was to ignore it. No way he was going to reveal an intimate secret of his work to two humans. But he was getting desperate. If he could do something to increase the odds of his plan working, he had to take it. With a heavy heart, he reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. The boys tensed up as he placed it gently on the table. "Relax, it's a tranq gun," Raziel explained. "I only use it for emergencies. And I guess this counts as one. It's loaded with sleeping potion and it'll work on angels. But use them sparingly. More than one dose could be potentially lethal to an angel." Dean's eyes widened at the possibility. He eyed the gun like it was a pretty girl giving him the time of day. His hand inched towards the gun slowly at first, and as he saw that Raziel wasn't stopping him, he picked up the fancy-looking thing and examined its exterior. The barrel was an engraved gold length and it was flanked by a shiny grey finish – a work of true craftsmanship. "I'll need that back." Seeing that the angel actually trusted them enough to loan a powerful weapon eased Dean up a little bit.

"Awesome," he couldn't help but grin but his smile faded as soon as he met Sam's solemn gaze. This was supposed to be a serious matter.

"Is that a normal thing?" Sam asked. "Angels using sleeping potion?"

"Well…" the angel exhaled. "Not in this high a concentration, no. Back when we had baby angels to raise, small doses of sleeping potion could be used to put them to sleep, since rest is especially important for the young ones. But once the nurseries closed off, we stopped producing sleeping potion. Until someone had the noble idea to manufacture a concentration of the potion so high that it could put grown angels to sleep." Sam noted how Raziel began to sound bitter towards the end. It was only possible for him to sound so resentful when thinking of Raphael and what the archangel had forced their team to do. All in the name of proving their loyalty after Sophia fell. "Anyway, I'll text you the exact location you need to be at as soon as I find out. Which I intend to do right away."

The angel got up, gesturing for one of them to get rid of the warding so that he could leave. Sam volunteered, promptly moving to arm himself with a spray can. "What about Cas?" Dean said, standing up.

Raziel regarded the Winchester for a moment. He knew the Winchesters cared about Castiel, but to see it first-hand was something else. Strange how a friendship so strong could form between an angel and a human. There was something heart-warming about it, no matter one's feelings about the angel Castiel. Raziel locked eyes with Dean. He needed to hear the truth. "Castiel is not himself right now. But you must never let him know that you suspect anything," he answered. Dean averted his eyes, unsure of how he felt about that. "Whatever Castiel is being made to do, he needs your help to do it. Which means you can keep an eye on him when I can't. But I promise, I will try to free him."

"Not to sound mean-spirited, Raz, but why do you care?" Dean asked pointedly. "Couldn't help but notice the bad blood between you and Cas."

"Because it's the right thing to do," Raziel said. And he believed it, truly. "No one deserves to be controlled like that." A small smile lit up his face with the hope that he could make a difference with what he was doing; that his new approach would bear fruit.


Heaven – 8 November 2011, 9.15pm

Jeremiah looked anxious to be seeing Raziel again. "They're all out looking for you, sir," he spoke in a whisper, like anyone could actually hear them. They were back in the alley where they met, behind the towering building in which Naomi worked. "And not to worry, I didn't tell them anything about our meeting."

"Thank you," Raziel nodded in acknowledgment. "If they're all out then I suppose that leaves the important areas unguarded." Ah, a silver lining.

"Did you find him?" Jeremiah's eyes enlarged with curiosity and hope. It almost broke Raziel's heart. "Did you find Samandriel?"

"I did." Raziel gulped. "But… but I'm sorry." He had to endure watching the spark go out of Jeremiah's eyes. The angel looked away, jaw tightening.

"How did it happen?"

"He was being tortured. By the demon King Crowley." Raziel let it sink in for a moment before elaborating. "Right before he died, he mentioned something about Naomi and Crowley working together. I think Samandriel got too close to uncovering the truth about their alliance and…" The rest was history.

"So Naomi got Crowley to torture him?" Jeremiah frowned.

"Of that, I can't be sure." Raziel thought hard about it. Why would Naomi send an angel to Crowley like a lamb to the slaughterhouse? She did send Castiel to rescue Samandriel and then later kill him. Maybe this wasn't intentional. Maybe this was Crowley taking the reins when things got out of hand on Naomi's side. "I don't think she meant for Samandriel to get caught by Crowley. No matter what she's planning, allowing the demon King to extract Heaven's secrets from one of our own could not have been part of it," he speculated.

"Yet she failed to protect him," Jeremiah sounded dispirited. "I can't believe I've been working for someone like her."

"There is still time to change things," Raziel said, wanting to restore the angel's hope. "We can stop her before it's too late." Again, Raziel took a gamble. He didn't know for sure that Jeremiah would help him. From the way the angel looked at him – with uncertainty, with the desire for direction – he had no choice but to trust that this would pan out. He explained what he'd discovered and what he needed to do next. Jeremiah listened intently, nodding his head as all the details fell into place and explained a lot of oddities that he himself had noticed previously.

"Tell me what I can do," Jeremiah nodded, determined to help the Keeper.

Raziel's suspicions were right. Finding the river which the painting in Naomi's office depicted was the right thing to do. The first thing he noticed when he arrived at the river bank was how quiet everything was, with the exception of the constant burbling of water. Given how far this place was from the capital, angels rarely, if ever, came around these parts. In fact, most angels never leave the capital if they didn't have a reason. It would be easy to get lost exploring Heaven. No wonder Sophia liked it here. It was night on earth and so it was in Heaven. Five moons hung confidently in the sky, appearing as large, coloured orbs. Astronomy in Heaven was often confusing and seemingly didn't follow a pattern – few angels managed to crack the code and predict the patterns of planets, moons and stars in the sky on any given night. Surprisingly, it was Lucifer who had been good with discovering the laws of astronomy, not Sophia. Raziel's mentor had always recalled with delight how Lucifer had taught her to locate the stars. As the cool, fragrant breeze brushed past him, his eyes gradually swivelled from the sky to a point upstream. Though the horizon was visible from where he stood, a clear, bright light shone in the distance and it was at least discernible that this light was not from one of the several stars that littered the night sky.

Making as little noise as possible, Raziel signalled to Jeremiah and both of them crept up towards the source of the mysterious light in the cover of the thick forest that flanked either side of the river. They made sure to remain hidden in the thick ferns as they crouched on the forest ground, gently holding down a leaf to make an opening for their eyes. Through this opening he saw what they came for. A large field, lit up by bright lamps around the perimeter, lined uniformly with crops. The Quartum. Their flowers were large and white, with plump petals. A soft breeze blew and immediately, the distinct smell of the plant's fragrance caught his attention. Suppressing a gag, he put a pocket square to his mouth and nose, blocking out the smell, and gestured for his companion to do the same. Raziel's eyes hardened with strengthening resolve. This operation must have been going on for months. How did it even begin? Had he ignored the signs that this was going to happen? I should've been more proactive, he woefully thought. Sophia's way of doing things, which she'd imparted to them, was to stay out of politics and focus solely on the discovery of new knowledge. Now that Raziel saw what he'd failed to prevent, he realised that it was time for a reform of the way his team did things.

Dark figures patrolled silently along delineated pathways in the soil. Fellow angels. Their eyes looked both focussed and distant at the same time. Must be that 'treatment' that he kept hearing about. One day, surely, he would work to put an end to that. Sneaking around the perimeter, Raziel and Jeremiah neared a compound that oversaw the plantation. It was eerie how the angels moved so robotically – more so than usual – and barely spoke a word when their paths crossed. Their glowing blue eyes seemed to move in the darkness like tiny floating orbs and their wings stood rigid as they did their rounds. These angels probably had never even left Heaven. The dead silence of the field creeped him out. They must have been subject to the harshest of Naomi's treatment to achieve this level of obedience. Raziel felt sorry for them and once again, he vowed to himself that he would free them from this slavery.

"How could they have agreed to be a part of this?" Jeremiah whispered next to him.

"They didn't," Raziel answered. His gaze scanned the field and the compound. He needed to find the delivery details somehow. Like where they were arranging to deliver it from and who was involved. The Winchesters would be waiting for his signal now, if they'd done what he'd asked. "We need to find a way in."

"There," Jeremiah pointed. A line formed at the entrance of the compound. There, at the wide doors, was an angel that Raziel recognised as one of Naomi's most trusted - Aviel. Something was different about this one – he was the only one with animated, lifelike movements. "Next!" Aviel yelled, as he checked the name of an angel against a list. The line moved as the robotic angel entered the building. From the heat signature of the building, Raziel inferred that this could be where the plant was processed to produce the fine powder he saw earlier. Signalling his companion to stay put, Raziel snuck around the edge of the building and found himself looking through various windows. Since this place was seemingly unknown to the rest of the angels, security wasn't very tight here. Naomi probably couldn't risk sending too many angels here when it was supposed to remain a secret. Too many unseen angels was bound to turn some heads. Raziel remained in the shadows, undetected by the lifeless gazes of his brethren lined up at the entrance. He saw the red-hot glow of metal in kilns. He heard the hissing sound of hot metal being doused in water. Most importantly, he saw the angels tirelessly slaving away like zombies. They remained expressionless, just like the ones patrolling the plantation.

Many angels were positioned at each station on each floor – there were four floors – and there was the occasional supervising angel with roving, cautious eyes. Raziel counted six of Naomi's goons in total – one guy guarding the field, Aviel at the door and one on each floor. Only six? Naomi must have been supremely confident that no one would ever find out. At least that made it easier for him, except for one little thing – there was only one entrance and Aviel was guarding it. He returned to Jeremiah in the bushes. "I need a distraction," he told Jeremiah.

"I can talk to Aviel. Tell him I'm here to help out with the delivery," Jeremiah suggested. "But I'm not sure the others in line won't notice."

"They won't," Raziel stated confidently. "If I understand this correctly, they've been programmed to follow routine, like the builders of the capital in the beginning of time. They'll be unable to notice anything other than what they're supposed to be doing."

"That's a big 'if'," Jeremiah mused, nervousness tugging at his voice.

"Yeah, well, I've gone off a lot less the past few days," Raziel recalled, clearing his throat. "Have faith, my friend."

With that, they parted ways. Raziel crept around a corner close to the door that left plenty of space between the line of slave angels and the door frame. Jeremiah went back deeper into the forest and mustering courage, he spread his wings and flew onto the compound.

On seeing the angel, Aviel snapped out of his routine and tensed up, displaying a relentless frown on his face as Jeremiah approached. "Naomi sent me," Jeremiah said. Aviel's shoulder muscles relaxed slightly, though they still maintained his rigid form.

Holding his clipboard and pen to his side, Aviel asked, "What's the code?"

The code. Raziel stiffened as he peeked around the corner. Of course there would be some kind of password to indicate that the angels worked for the same cause. It was basic information security. But if Jeremiah couldn't give him the right code… Raziel rued to think what he'd gotten his new friend into. "Uh…" Jeremiah seemed visibly nervous. Okay, not so much. Maybe it was just Raziel overthinking it. The angel tried his best to remain calm in front of Aviel though a keen observer would notice his knuckles trembling and his throat muscles tightening. "Ol-Ho-Hoath," he uttered in Enochian.

The pause lasted for what seemed like an eternity. "Ol-Ho-Hoath," Aviel nodded, repeating the same phrase. Raziel heaved a sigh of relief. A true worshipper, the saying meant. It was a line from an old Enochian poem. Jeremiah chose his words well. "How may I help you, brother?"

That was his cue. Raziel slowly crept out of the shadows, nearing the door. Detecting this, Jeremiah held Aviel's gaze and adjusted his own position such that Aviel would have his back to Raziel. "I am to check the delivery details before it goes down tonight," Jeremiah said. Keeping low, Raziel took measured steps forward. Now was the moment of truth. The whole line of angels remained where they were, waiting for Aviel's orders. Dead though their eyes looked, they never seemed to falter from a single point in the distance. It's like they couldn't even sense movement around them, not even Raziel sneaking through the wide entrance of the door.

"But all the materials have already been shipped to earth. Why would Naomi send you here?" Aviel asked, scepticism evident in his voice.

"I am to ensure that everything has been done right from the beginning of the operation, starting from packaging and manpower allocation," Jeremiah lied. Aviel merely nodded as though what Jeremiah said made any sense to him. Naomi's name did inspire fear in those that knew well what she was capable of. "If you could show me around, I will be on my way."

"Very well, then," Aviel relented and let him in. "Time for a little tour."

By this point, Raziel had gone deep into the compound, searching for an office. All the important details were bound to be there. As he crept through the dark first floor, among the labouring angels and melting heat of the kilns, he searched every corner only to find nothing. Must be on a floor above then. There had to be some way of locating the office that would save him time, he hoped. As he crept under the stairwell, the distinct sound of Aviel's voice sounded close. The two of them were approaching. Raziel quickly slid under a work bench, completely ignored by the angels standing around it separating flower petals. Just then, the two of them walked past the bench towards the very same stairs that Raziel intended to take. If Jeremiah noticed, he never let on. That was close.

Keeping a safe distance, Raziel made his way up the stairs to the second floor and immediately ducked behind a crate and held his breath. Slowly, another of Naomi's passed him, keeping his eyes out for anything unusual. Before the angel could turn the corner, Raziel slipped into the other side of the crate. The higher floors were all platforms with the centre left as an open space which allowed the furnaces on the first floor to reach high into the ceiling of the building. Railings bordered the edges of the floors. Raziel leaned against a railing, letting his eyes adjust to this new perspective of the whole building. That's when he spotted it. The office was a small, walled room in the corner of the highest floor. That's where he would go. Determination guided his gaze as he monitored and memorised the routines of all the supervisors patrolling the building.

No one noticed the agile shadow expertly navigating the building as Raziel finally made it to the office. Looking around once more to make sure he was in the clear, Raziel gripped the lock and twisted. A frown eclipsed his face. Locked. All of that manoeuvring in the darkness and patience was for nothing. He suppressed a laboured sigh. Now what? Which one of these angels would hold the key? His heart began to pace as he thought of how much time was left. His wrist watch read 11.29pm. Only three and a half hours left. The Winchesters would need time to find the truck and rig it too. So many things to do, so little time, his restless mind nagged at him. Perhaps you shouldn't have wasted so much time on the Winchesters. Crouching as he approached the railing, Raziel peered at the angels, as if glaring at them from a distance would somehow reveal who had the key that he needed.

Footsteps sounded on the steps. It was Aviel approaching, with Jeremiah respectfully following behind. It seemed their last step was going to be the office. Of course. He should have guessed so. If they made it up the stairs, they would run right into an uninvited intruder. Quick, Raziel, move!

"As for the more intricate details, we have them under lock-and-key. Right this way," Aviel beckoned as they began towards the door, which was down an unobstructed corridor from the staircase. The jingle of his keys was lost in the loud rumbling of the heavy machinery down below as Aviel unlocked the door and entered, Jeremiah entering closely behind. The latter angel took a quick peek behind him, as if now worried that his friend was nowhere to be seen. To his relief, Raziel gently dropped down from the metallic scaffold on the ceiling, barely making a sound as he entered the now-open door. "So the actual shipment is already packed and ready to go on Ear-" Jeremiah struck Aviel hard at the back of the head, knocking him out. He caught the body as it fell and gingerly laid him on the ground. Triumphant, he shared a well-deserved smile with Raziel, who closed the door to restore their privacy.

"How did you know the code?" Raziel broke the silence, the question taking utmost priority in his mind. He was well-aware that neither of them would have made it in here were it not for those correct words.

"Well…" Jeremiah rubbed the back of his head as he stared at the unconscious form of the angel passed out on the floor. "I may have… eavesdropped on people I wasn't supposed to… I know it's wrong and probably a sin but I was just too curious." He had the look of a guilty angel but considering the circumstances, he probably didn't feel bad about it. And he shouldn't, Raziel thought. He managed a comforting smile at that.

"Jeremiah, if you ever find that you are bored by whatever work Naomi has got for you, someone with your… affinities could prove very valuable on my team," Raziel offered. "No brainwashing, I promise."

A toothy grin widened on Jeremiah's face. He nodded, willing to consider the offer. Both of them worked quickly, scouring through the drawers and tables for anything useful. "A list of all the angels working here?" Jeremiah said out loud as he held up a document and scanned through the pages. "All these names… forgotten like they don't even exist," he lamented with a growing look of horror on his face. "How could they have taken so many of them without anyone knowing?"

"They have their ways," Raziel answered monotonously as he held up some papers himself. "And we have ours." Finally, his eyes caught a glimpse of what he was looking for and his heart did a little jump. "Here it is. Oh-"

Jeremiah turned around when Raziel's voice got cut off. He found the Keeper sighing at the piece of paper and shaking his head in resignation as if he'd just heard a bad joke. "What is it?" Jeremiah asked, hoping that it wasn't bad news.

"The universe has a great sense of irony…"

Dean's phone beeped just as the boys loaded the readied bombs onto the back of the Impala. Of course, they weren't completely done making them because that would be dangerous for them. The remaining would have to be assembled once they were physically on the truck. Dean wiped his sweaty forehead as he checked his phone. With the clock on his phone reading 12.03am, he was beginning to worry he wouldn't hear from the angel. "Would ya look at that?" Dean huffed.

"What?" Sam asked as he patted his damp neck with a cloth.

Dean showed him the phone screen with what could be assumed as a look of amusement on his face. "Winchester Road," Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise.


"Are you sure the Winchesters can handle it? That many angels?" Jeremiah's face bore concern.

"These are the humans who stood in the face of archangels and resisted. I believe they are capable," Raziel reassured him. "I've told them not to kill any of them as much as possible. Enough of us have died." An uncomfortable mixture of guilt and remorse stirred in the pit of his stomach as he thought of the angels he'd hurt just the day before. No more.

"Alright. Now what?"

"Now…" Raziel took a steady inhale as he contemplated his next move. His deep brown eyes met Jeremiah's ones. "Now we must burn this place to the ground. Not a single gram of Quartum must remain here."

"But all these angels…"

"We must evacuate them. Somehow," Raziel acknowledged. "But first, we must make sure that we can destroy everything here without leaving anything behind. And the only kind of fire angels can't extinguish with a wave of the hand is holy fire."

"All this land – it will require a rather copious amount of holy oil," Jeremiah mused.

"That's not a problem," Raziel said self-assuredly. "What will be challenging is to spread all that oil over the crops and the factory."

They both stood in silence, trying to come up with a solution. Raziel drummed his fingers on the table at the centre of the room as his racked his brain for a quick-fix to all of this. Time is of the essence, he kept reminding himself. Unfortunately, the constant pressure of time was interfering with his ability to think. He kept on worrying about all the horrible things that could happen if his mission didn't succeed. His brethren in Heaven were on the hunt for him for killing three angels, the Winchesters could possibly be walking into an angelic death trap and the human race was on the verge of becoming slaves to Naomi and Crowley. A lot was at stake here. "I've got something," Jeremiah finally spoke up. When he told Raziel his idea, the Keeper had to consciously repress a loud laugh of excitement.

"You are clearly a talented angel, brother," he clapped Jeremiah on the back. "Be ready. I'll bring the holy oil."

Jeremiah nodded, feeling an unfamiliar warmth emanate from his chest. In truth, he'd never expected the famed Keeper of Knowledge to be so… friendly. The angels never heard much about what it is the knowledge keepers did except that they were noble and to be respected. They used to give plenary lectures a long time ago – a tradition begun by their beloved fallen mentor – and these lectures were so famous that almost all of Heaven attended them simply because they were always so fascinating and a lot could be learnt from them. But as the years went on and the chaotic fruit of Eden exerted its true nature on humanity and earth, fewer and fewer angels had the same enthusiasm to learn. And then the lectures were stopped and the academy was closed. Not like there were any more little angels to educate anyway. No one really heard from the knowledge keepers much after that.

Winchester Road, Kansas – 8 November 2011, 12.47am

"Over there," Sam pointed through the window of the driver's seat. A narrow dirt path branched away from the road at a right angle, leading into an area densely populated by trees. Through the canopies, dark though it was, the boys could make out a roof. This was the only building in the area for miles and green pastures extended in every direction visible to the human eye here. Funny that this opportune spot chosen by Naomi had to be on a road named Winchester, like a plan bound to go wrong because the universe seemed to favour the Winchesters no matter what happened. Dean slowed down as he drove down the unmarked path, driving close enough but not so close as to alert the angels. As they got off and snuck around the perimeter, Dean held his new favourite toy in his hands. He still didn't know how he felt about returning the thing to Raziel – Hell, he still didn't know if he trusted the guy – but he just wanted a chance to use it. Use it sparingly, the angel had said. Screw that, I wanna knock some holy rollers out with this bad boy!

Eleven angels. That's what Raziel had said. Eleven shots. They were down. "They're really sleeping like babies, huh?" Dean wondered in amazement as he and his brother stood among the knocked out bodies of the angels, the long end of the tranquilizer darts sticking out of their necks.

"Let's get to work," Sam ushered, unamused. He was uncomfortable with the whole not-killing angels. Sure, Raziel said they would be out for hours, but Sam still worried that they would just get up in a minute and attack them. This was too much faith to be putting in any angel, save Cas. Or not. He just remembered the events of a few hours ago.

Sam was in the middle of adjusting a trip-wire with a plier when wings fluttered behind him. "You knocked them all out?" Raziel exclaimed, flustered at the sight of his brethren around him.

"Jesus!" Sam flinched. "Doing delicate work here!"

"My apologies," Raziel said unapologetically, extending his arms to the side in a mocking gesture.

"You needed us to rig the truck," Dean reminded him as he brought over another bottle containing their explosives. "And how are we supposed to do that with these feather-dusters walking around?"

"All I'm saying is…" Raziel was trying his best to keep calm. "Crowley will be expecting an angel to drive that truck to him. You don't think he'd be able to spot you coming from a mile away?"

"You're an angel. You do it!" Dean suggested indignantly.

"I'm busy!" Raziel argued. "This isn't the only thing that needs my attention. Up in Heaven…" He pulled a hand down his face, sighing. "I don't even know why I'm explaining this to you. There isn't much time before the delivery goes down and Naomi will want to protect the crops after that…" he rambled to himself as the boys stared blankly at him. Raziel, on the other hand, had his eyes fixed on the bodies of his unconscious brothers and sisters. "Wait…" he muttered as his eyes lit up with an idea. "I got it." His lips flashed a smile.

"Got what?" Sam beckoned him to elaborate with a half-nod.

"You boys…" Raziel developed the idea more clearly in his head. He paced about, only drawing the Winchesters into more confusion. "You boys go ahead with the plan. Start driving towards the farm just on the outskirts of Assaria. Pray as soon as you're close – but not too close – and I'll come."

Heaven – 8 November 2011, 2.13am

Jeremiah waited anxiously by the river bank when Raziel appeared, a large barrel in hand. "Should suffice, don't you think?" Raziel patted the barrel proudly.

"Yes. It should do nicely," Jeremiah agreed, though anxiety eclipsed his face. "I'm just concerned that we are exposing all those angels to so much holy oil. What if they catch fire before we can get them out? With all those furnaces there, it's a certain possibility."

"Fret not, brother. I have a plan," Raziel spoke again in that confident voice that gave those around him hope. "Let's load her up first."

What came next required precision of timing on both their parts. Raziel stood ready by the six taps that connected to the pipes which irrigated the whole field. On his signal, Jeremiah twisted the knobs on the taps manually and furiously. Simultaneously, Raziel harnessed water from the river and made it flow through the pipes despite Jeremiah stopping the taps, which were in turn connected to a larger pipe that channelled river water. Struggling, Raziel held on, maintaining the illusion that river water was still flowing through the irrigation channels even though the pipe connected to the river was cut off. "Hurry," Raziel groaned as the muscles of his body strained with effort. It was taking almost all of him to precisely teleport water from the river into six different pipes but it was crucial that no one come to check on what happened to the water supply.

Jeremiah scrambled to unscrew the taps from the contraption that funnelled water from the river into them. In its place, he connected six hoses to each tap. These hoses were in turn attached to a connector which had one end immersed in the barrel of holy oil. Once he was done, he rushed to reopen the taps, allowing the holy oil to flow through the irrigation pipes, dousing every inch of the field. "It's done," Jeremiah announced. With a great relieved sigh, Raziel let go, taking a moment to catch his breath.

Satisfied, they both approached the compound again, staying hidden in the cover of bushes. "Alright. Just one more step, and it'll all be over," Raziel felt like there was hope again. Finally, one success after many failures. That's when a voice reached him. Raziel, we pray that you grace us with your holy presence on this dirt road in buttfuck nowhere, Dean Winchester's unmistakably gruff voice sounded in his head. "I have to go," he stated.

"Wait," Jeremiah beckoned, his hand gripping Raziel's arm a little too quickly. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Raziel's gaze softened. "You'll do just fine, Jeremiah. You've done so well so far and you know what to do."

Raziel straightened up. He had to take his leave now or risk missing the delivery. "Thank you," Jeremiah called out before the Keeper could spread his wings. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity to do the right thing."

"Follow the path to the truth no matter where it takes you and you will not be let down," Raziel quoted Sophia. He gave Jeremiah a respectful nod and took off.

Alone again. Jeremiah repeated in his head what he needed to do. You got this. Pushing his fears aside, he marched on towards the building. He stood boldly at its front, just as Raziel instructed. He timed it right so that the angel watching over the fields would have his back to him. Aviel wasn't at the doors either – the slave angels had all gone to their posts so he was probably patrolling the inside. With as little force as an angel needed to mutilate his own human vessel, Jeremiah tore open an incision on his left palm, drawing blood. In the darkness of night, the crimson liquid appeared stark black as he began painting it on the wall in the form of an angel-banishing sigil.

So far so good. He was almost done. "Hey, what are you doing?" A voice caused him to jump. Jeremiah jerked to see none other than Aviel staring at him with a frown-riddled expression. The jig is up. A dreadful moment passed as Aviel's gaze flickered between Jeremiah and the sigil he was drawing. Immediately, Aviel drew his blade, rapidly approaching the angel.

"I'm sorry brother," Jeremiah uttered as he brandished his own blade and blocked Aviel's strike with a noisy clang. As he parried another strike and kicked the angel backwards, he realised that the only option he had was to kill Aviel. There was little time in between strikes and dodges to finish the sigil. As Aviel swung the blade again, Jeremiah was almost caught off guard, having been lost in his thoughts about getting everyone out of there safely. He blocked the first strike but he only barely missed getting fatally cut. Instead, he fell backwards with only a large gash across his upper arm, leaking angel grace. Aviel got on top of him to finish him but he pushed against Aviel's arms with all his strength. Finally, the angel's arms relented and Aviel flung backwards heavily onto the ground. By now, the scuffle had gotten the attention of the other supervisors, who were now rushing towards him though they were far enough away to buy him some time. Reluctantly driving his blade through Aviel, Jeremiah got up and rushed to dab the blood on his hand onto the wall in that familiar pattern that angels knew all too well. His arm burned with pain and he felt his shoulders begging to drop. But he held on. Just as an angel armed and ready to strike ran out of the doors and dashed towards him, he slapped a bloody hand onto the sigil.

A bright flash of light erupted and suddenly, it was all empty. Jeremiah took a few steps forward, relishing the sight of the empty fields. He turned his head to look into the building. No one was in there. Just lonely fires burning to keep no one warm and molten metal floating around unbounded. That's when he noticed a spraying sound. It came from the direction of Aviel's dead body, which lay alone in front of the door. But just a few feet away from him, an irrigation pipe was broken and clear liquid sprayed out of it in a tall arc. Must have been the impact of throwing Aviel backwards. Jeremiah studied the spraying liquid as it accumulated on the ground. It was a rather large puddle. His eyes followed the widening puddle to see a small stream departing from the main pool that was forming. It led into the building, its tendrils extending towards the furnaces. That's when he remembered. It's holy oil.

No one in Heaven expected to hear a deafening explosion when it happened. The flames roared, reaching into the sky in a blaze of unforeseen absolution. The angels all took to the sky at once, wings holding them afloat in the air as they observed the fire spreading from a single point in the distance. Not only that, but it seemed that a large number of angels were shooting across space in a radius away from the point of the fire, their trajectories marked by a trailing blaze behind them. Some of the angels watching this whole debacle were scared – no, all of them were scared. "What the hell's going on?" someone asked. No one had an answer. They just watched ominously as the brilliant blue flame of holy fire reached its arms into the forests. It grew at an unprecedented speed. Though the origin was nowhere near Imperium, the capital, the very rate at which the scary azure Achilles' Heel of angels seemed to be approaching them was enough cause for widespread panic. "God help us!" someone else yelled. The other angels followed, repeating this mantra as if their Father was sure to come to their rescue.


Assaria, Kansas – 8 November 2011, 2.43am

Raziel spotted the boys as he flew down from Heaven. Sam checked his watch, awaiting the angel's arrival. Just as he was about to relax his wings to make a stable descent, a sudden shove knocked him off his route. With a hard landing, Raziel felt the breath being knocked out of his lungs as he hit the ground. He was on his back, though he felt someone holding down his chest. As his blurry vision focused, he found himself staring into those cold blue eyes that he dreaded so much. "Naomi," he snarled, wary of the blade being pressed to his throat.

"I should've ended you a long time ago," she growled, face contorting in rage. The Winchesters were not too far away, though all of this was invisible to them. "Why do you always have to stick your head where it doesn't belong, Raziel?"

"Because it's my job," his jaw tightened as he spoke.

"Then it's a good thing I found you when I did, isn't it?" Naomi's eyes glinted with malice as she pressed the blade deeper into the base of his neck. He groaned a little as she drew grace.

"Wait!" he pleaded, pushing against her with all his might. "I know all about your plans. About Crowley, about the Quartum, about how you're growing them in Heaven."

"It won't matter if you're dead," she spat out bitterly.

"Oh but it will," his lips grew into a crooked smile as he locked eyes with her. "I have people. People who won't hesitate to blow the whistle on your little operation if I don't return home and tell them not to." By people, he meant Jeremiah. Singular. But that didn't matter in that moment.

"You're lying," Naomi denied, though her grip on the blade was wavering.

"But are you willing to take the chance?" he asked. "Why don't we talk terms? A mutual exchange."

Naomi hesitated. She had him. Right here, right now. Her enemy. Her opposition. The obstacle to her greatness. She had him pinned down to the road. She could end it all. But he was sly. Sly like her. "Your silence about my work…" she began. "… for your life."

"There's more than that," Raziel demanded. "My reputation. Call off this angel-hunt on me and clear my name."

"Done." Hesitating at first, she backed off of him and let him stand up. "Now leave this place."

"Leave?" Raziel huffed. "Did you think I was actually going to let you go through with this operation?"

"Raziel…" Naomi's tone grew so grave in the manner that most angels feared. And if looks could kill, her glare could be Heaven's most powerful weapon. "You have meddled enough with my plans."

"Yes, because it's a stupid plan," he argued, undeterred. "You're working with Crowley! The demon King! What do you hope to achieve with that?"

They both slowly paced, moving in a circle about each other. "Crowley is controlled opposition," she explained. "Heaven will have its victories, and so will Hell. It's the natural order. I don't expect an idealist like you to understand that."

"And how well is that working out for you?" Raziel probed, energised by the atrocities he'd witnessed that day. "Samandriel getting kidnapped and tortured for information – is that what you call controlled opposition?"

"That was…" Naomi averted her gaze, looking sullen. Raziel wasn't sure she was capable of such an emotion until then. "That was a mistake. It won't happen again."

"Is that what you told yourself when Sarah and Marcus went missing too?" Raziel questioned. "Tell me, did they also get captured because they found out about your little secret?"

"How did you…" Naomi seemed puzzled. "How do you know about that?"

"I told you," Raziel reiterated. "It's my job."

"By the time I found out what they were up to, it was too late," she confessed, her voice easing up slightly. That's how he knew she was telling the truth. Better late than never, right? "I never heard from them again."

"All this time, the demon King has taken our kind for his own use and you're still here," Raziel spoke calmly, though the bitterness was evident in his tone. "You're still here keeping your end of the bargain. How much do you actually stand to gain from it, I wonder?"

"The earth will be ours to shape once the humans are under control," Naomi explained her position. "At least they won't destroy themselves. It's for their own good."

"Our role has never been to control them, let alone enslave them," Raziel rebutted. "They have free will. They must choose right from wrong. They cannot be forced to make decisions."

Naomi huffed, almost bursting out in derisive laughter. "After all these years, you still don't get it, do you? What did I expect? You always listened to what that wretched archangel had to say," she snapped. Raziel's eyebrows creased, unsure of how she could turn even this conversation into a tirade against Sophia. "They only have free will because of the Forbidden Fruit. The fruit that the Devil and his whore tempted Man to consume. That wasn't part of God's plan! Humans are now the result of the corruption of God's plan. The result of evil. Their free will is evil!"

"You are so wrong on so many levels," Raziel disagreed. "But now isn't the time to argue theology. I'm going to lay it out for you very simply: Crowley is a filthy demon who has taken advantage of you for so long. Let me deal with him. If all goes well, he won't be a problem after tonight." Naomi's pondering eyes regarded him for a moment. Clenching her jaw, she nodded and prepared to leave. "Oh and Naomi, before I forget, there is one more thing."

"What is it?" she asked, not bothering to hide her exasperation.

"Those angels you enslaved to produce the Quartum – you will restore them to normalcy," Raziel ordered. "All of them. I'll check."

"You ask me to concede so much it might be easier to take your life!" she drew out her blade, ready to charge him.

Raziel put his hands up quickly and whistled, suppressing a smile. "Whistle-blowers," he reminded her as she halted in her step. He sure enjoyed torturing her. Her nose crinkled with fury she could not express. "Better hurry back home. I think you will find that there is a situation that requires your attention."

Raziel watched triumphantly as she spread her wings and took off. With a spring in his step, he neared the Winchesters.

"'Bout time you showed up," Dean remarked as Raziel appeared before them. He and Sam leaned against the front of the Impala while the delivery truck was parked in front of it. Dean's gaze was caught by a glowing slit on his neck. "What happened?"

"Like I said. Busy." Suddenly self-conscious, Raziel buttoned his collar and pulled up his tie to conceal the incision. He gave the truck a once-over, checking that it was intact. "You left all the Quartum inside, right?"

"Yep," Sam assured him. "It'll go boom, along with the truck."

"Great. I'll take it from here," Raziel said. He walked over to Dean and extended a hand. Dean simply stared at him, confused. "My gun."

"Right," Dean reached into his back pocket and held the tranquilizer gun for one last time. He took one long look at it, admiring its design and shiny finish. Raziel exhaled as he patiently waited for the human to be done with it. "It was fun while it lasted."

"I'm sure," Raziel's eyes narrowed condescendingly as he received the gun and returned it to its rightful place in his coat.

Just as the angel made to open the door to the driver's seat, Sam called out after him, "Don't stand too close."

Raziel nodded, keeping the warning in mind. With a heavy heart, he entered the angel death-machine and took off. The Winchesters brought out beers, hoping to watch some demons catch holy fire from a safe distance. Suddenly, the night sounded more exciting than they'd initially hoped.

As the truck pulled up in front of the farm house, Raziel was immediately greeted by a horde of demons waiting patiently for him. He glanced at his watch. 2.59am. Right on time. Surprising, considering the number of obstacles he had to cross that night. Raziel eyed the demon King cautiously as he got down the truck and stood in front of the doors to its rear. Crowley was impeccably dressed in black and wore a cunning smile, as usual. "Just one angel? I was under the impression that a whole troop was coming for the delivery," Crowley said casually. He seemed surprised but it didn't appear to affect his judgment that much.

"Naomi said I would suffice for you," Raziel responded. He studied Crowley closely, seeing as this was the first time he was actually meeting the guy. The demon brought with him a whole battalion of demons. He probably wanted to be very sure that nothing went wrong.

"Ah, a one-angel army. Not many angels could have that honour. The last one was killed twice by archangels," Crowley remarked. "Be careful, my fine-feathered friend."

"Oh, don't worry about me," Raziel advised. He held the King's gaze, staring into those deep, crimson pits he called eyes. Something about the way the angel stared at him rubbed him the wrong way, but there was little time for doubt. Only instinct. One of Crowley's demons promptly moved to check the delivery. As soon as a click from the door handle sounded, Raziel was out of there. A metallic wire snapped inside the truck. And just like that, the dead silence of the night was defeated.

Raziel barely made it to the Winchesters' side when a bright flash and a thunderous explosion resounded. Scraps of metal, ripped from the truck and set ablaze, soared into the sky as smoke bellowed from the flames. From where the three of them stood, they could hear the screams of demons running around clawing their faces with their hands as they desperately tried to put out the flames. The sulfur of their spirits only made the fire burn brighter and suddenly the smell of sulfur filled the air. "Ugh, gross," Sam moved to cover his mouth and nose with a cloth.

"Was Crowley there?" Dean asked as he stared straight at the Hellion campfire. Everything about it was so satisfying. He thought it might be the best thing he'd ever see.

"Yes," Raziel answered, finally relieved that all the Quartum was destroyed. A true victory for his cause.

"Good," a smile spread across Dean's face. He reached into the backseat of the Impala and pulled out another beer, which he then offered to Raziel. The angel smiled and thanked him for the drink as he popped it open and enjoyed the sight of the explosion with the Winchesters. Suddenly Dean was grateful that he had the opportunity to witness and be the cause of something so glorious.