An endless golden sea of tall grass stretched as far as the eye could reach, a beautiful glow coming from each blade as the setting sun landed on their surface. On the edges of this ocean stood tall trees full of leaves that blocked out the sun, providing shade, each of their branches solid and sturdy, perfect for attaching a tire swing. There wasn't much else to be seen in this environment, no tall looming buildings you'd find in a city, nor any monuments erected in honor of a figure from the past or an event deemed worthy of being remembered. With that said, there were two structures nestled in the center of this peaceful setting, one a two-floor ranch-style home and the other a classic styled red barn.
A nice, quiet, charming piece of the world to call your own. For most people, this is what they'd say Heaven must look like, a sentiment that the owner of this property felt as well. Inside the barn, you'd find him working with his hands day in and out, always needing to keep himself busy even though he was meant to be relaxing. But for him, this was how he put his mind at ease, never one to sit idly by even if that was the point.
He tried it for a good long while, laying back in a lawn chair as his children played, his wife cooking burgers and hot dogs on the grill as the family pet ran through the yard, the envisioned image of perfectly ordinary life. Yet no matter what he tried, it never seemed to last long, the relief that is, relief from the white noise that played without end inside of him like a deafening static. So, he tried something different, starting with small things like repairing the lawnmower or appliances around the house. He eventually moved to work on tractors, cars, and other more complex machinery.
And now, since he had all the time he could ever want or need, he built machines from the ground up. Such as right now, he was nearly waist-deep into a new project he recently came up with, which kept him from noticing a long foreign shadow that slowly cast over his body and the object. Or at least, that's what the shadow's owner believed.
"We don't get many visitors around here." He spoke to them. His voice, even with the slightly muffled quality it possessed caused by the metal frame that surrounded it, could still be discerned as intensely masculine and robust.
"You noticed me?" His visitor questioned, sounding as though they were in disbelief.
"I've had a lot of practice sneaking up on people and having them do the same to me. I heard you coming the moment you stepped into the field." He replied.
"And yet you seem calm, not alarmed that a stranger has walked onto your property and into your barn." They noted.
"I've had a few surprise visitors before. Some were people, others angels, and one time I even had the pleasure of having death herself show up at my door." He said.
"Wait. My daughter's come to see you?" They asked.
That response gave the man pause, of all the things he expected to hear that definitely wasn't one of them. Over the next few seconds, his mind played mental tennis with itself, debating whether or not his guest was bullshitting him or if they were who they claimed to be with such a question.
Deciding it was best to see for himself, the man slowly emerged from his work then turned around so they could speak face to face. He saw an entity clearly divine, whose body was a perfect union
of technology, flesh, and the soul; it was also quite prominent in height and general size.
As for what the entity saw when he revealed his face, the man had a squarish shape to his head but not in an insulting way. He looked strong, proud, and determined, which matched the perfectly toned and chiseled physique that showed well even through a reasonably loose button-up flannel shirt that covered it. Combine that detail with the somewhat faded denim jeans and brown boots the man also wore, and you could accurately describe him as a good ol' fashioned country boy.
"Whoa." The man said once he saw his visitor's appearance, "You...don't look like any of the angels I've ever had the pleasure of hosting." He told them.
"Would that include my daughter? The angel of death?" They asked.
"That it would. Though she didn't look like an angel either." He answered as he leaned against his project, "But if the angel of death is YOUR daughter, I guess that means you can only be one person then, huh?" He suggested.
"Indeed." They confirmed before putting a hand to their chest, "I am Vega. You and nearly all mortals know me as God and other such names." He introduced.
"William Blazkowicz. Though everyone calls me BJ. But I'm guessing you know that." The man replied, doing the same.
"That I do, among many other things." He revealed.
"I see. So what reason brings God himself to this dusty old barn of mine?" BJ asked, his mind abuzz with curiosity.
"Your grandson." He answered, getting straight to the point.
That was a bombshell, and Vega knew it too, which is why he believed it was best not to waste any time in getting it out in the open. But when he said that, he noticed two things, the air became so silent, you could hear the sway of the grass outside as the gentle breeze blew it, and the mood of their conversation became deathly serious.
"Is he dead?" Bj asked, needing to know that above all else before moving forward.
"No," Vega answered, which allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief, "But may I ask how much you know of what's become of him?" He requested.
"The last time I or anyone else in our family saw Will was when he sealed himself with those...things," BJ said.
"Really? Haven't you been watching him since then? That was centuries ago!" He exclaimed in surprise.
"We weren't allowed." BJ revealed as he closed his eyes, "Believe me, I tried. Nearly got into a fight with an archangel about it. Pretty sure his name was Gabriel." He told him.
"Oh..." Vega said while staring at the floor, simultaneously surprised and not so that his son's stubbornness regarding his position would cause such an issue, "Well, you can rest easy knowing that he hasn't been killed." He shared.
"That is a heavyweight off my mind, and it will be for everyone else too." BJ replied, "But I know something must be wrong. Otherwise, he'd be standing here looking at me instead of you." He
pointed out.
"I see it wasn't just his good looks he inherited from you. He also received that natural ability to detect when someone isn't entirely honest." Vega complimented.
"Heh, yeah." He responded, amused by that.
Before continuing their conversation, Vega came closer until they were only but a few feet away from each other.
"I'm afraid there's too much to cover now. Both of what has happened since you last saw him and what has brought me here to you." He began as he put his hands behind his back, "However, this isn't to imply that I will withhold information from you. Once the matter at hand is dealt with, I will be more than happy to tell you everything, or perhaps if this works, Will can tell you himself." He continued, "So to be brief; he is currently broken. His mind, soul, and resolve have all been shattered thanks to the evil he's dedicated his life to fighting. Through one of the single most vile deceptions I have ever seen, they orchestrated a situation where it seemed as though he killed innocent people. They preyed upon his fractured sanity and his growing self-doubts of control over himself when in the heat of combat. The shock he felt in that moment was so great that even as I and those close to him have done our best to bring him out of it...we can't." He confessed, sadness taking hold of his voice, "That's why I have come here. There is no question or doubt that you are the most important person to him, perhaps even more so than his parents. He not only looked to you as a hero but as an inspiration for who to become himself. And while I could've approached his mother and father, I didn't because he feels responsible for their deaths and because they're not soldiers who have been through Hell itself. Only you have such an unfortunate experience to relate to him in this way." He explained, reaching the end of what he had to say.
Similar to what happened moments ago, silence overtook the setting, though this time it was caused by BJ needing to process what he'd just been told.
"...Tell me this." He spoke after nearly five minutes had gone by, "Is his fight still going? If I should agree to help him, which we both know I am, is the evil he seeks to kill still thriving?" He asked.
"Unfortunately, yes," Vega answered with a nod. "Hmph, guess that settles it then." He responded.
Unsure as to what he meant by that, Vega would be further confused as he suddenly walked out of the barn.
"Where are you going?" He asked, watching him head towards the house.
"You said it yourself. The last time I saw my grandson was centuries ago, which means he's been fighting on his own without any help, a one-man army." BJ said as he looked over his shoulder, "It's about time that number increased to three." He told him.
With that said, BJ continued his approach towards the home before soon disappearing as he went inside. Now left alone until the veteran returned, only one thing came to Vega's mind.
"...Wait...did he say three?" He wondered as he put a hand to his chin, "Who else could help Will?" He pondered.