Those whom I love, I rebuke and discipline.
Revelation 3:19

When the old earth died in the Final Battle, Hell became the new earth. Damien didn't even have to go down there. Hell stretched to the horizon, and all its inhabitants were standing and singing the glory of the Antichrist.
"That's really strange," Damien said thoughtfully to no one in particular, "I heard some fire is supposed to be here."
"They wanted to burn us with fire after their victory," Ann Rutledge explained to him. "But they didn't win."
"Then what's the punishment?" Damien asked.
Looking at the billions of souls, he didn't see many of those who truly deserved any punishment: many had only come here because they were pagans. Or atheists. There were also Christians who had believed just a bit incorrectly. Or they had committed adultery, only once, in their heart. They had seen a pretty person next to them and that was enough for eternal damnation. There were Satanists as well, but those did know where they were going, so Damien didn't have any questions in that respect.
There were also quite disgusting souls that Damien would destroy himself if he could. It was a dubious pleasure to have the entire Gestapo under his command.
"Hell's punishment is lack of love," Rutledge told him, clearly proud of her role as a guide.
Damien would destroy her, too, if he could. He'd got tired of her.
"Isn't there any love here?" Damien looked at his subjects again.
Simone, standing on his right, was looking at him tenderly. Rutledge herself, to be fair, was head over heels in love with him. Amani was ready to give him a friendly shoulder even if right now the hosts of angels broke into Hell again and went against Damien. Charlie Powell would follow Damien even through Hellfire. Other people, the ones he didn't know, who lived here in whole families, whole clans, also seemed to treat each other with great warmth.
"It's human love," a monk intervened, "but there's no God's love in Hell. It exists only in Paradise."
Damien had completely forgotten about Paradise. Meanwhile, Paradise was still somewhere up there, free, unoccupied, as if there had never been any Final Battle. Or as if this Battle had been in fact the Penultimate one.
"We're going to conquer Paradise!" Damien announced. "And when we do it, we'll settle there."
No one objected.

The path was narrow and difficult so they reached the golden gate of Paradise out of sheer stubbornness. But it was very easy to break down this gate. Damien was about to enter when he saw what was happening in Paradise and froze.
"What's that?" he asked helplessly. "How's that? Who can treat people like that?"
"Holy shit," someone said from behind.
So they saw it, too. So these weren't the Antichrist's hallucinations caused by divine light.
Damien stormed into Paradise, ran to these souls – pure, he could see it, innocent souls – trying to help them, to get them out of here, as if he were a war correspondent again and tried to save refugees from getting shot.
"You can leave now!" he shouted. "You're free! The gate's no longer here, you can all leave!"
"Off with you, tempter!" one of the souls croaked, the one he was trying to drag out of Paradise by force. "God loves me. And though I'm unworthy, He's testing me, and I'll never follow the father of lies!"
Feverish whispers were coming from all sides.
"He loves me… loves me..."
Mrs. Matthews came to Damien and put her hand on his shoulder.
"You won't help them. They're too used to the fact that all their lives God tested them by sending them suffering. Why should He stop doing that now that they're completely at his mercy? You've read the Book of Job, haven't you?
Damien blinked away tears and stared at Mrs. Matthews.
"This is... Something about a whale, right?"
She smiled bitterly and hugged him.
"Let's get out of here. You can't help them. No need to play savior."
"But you're a psychologist!" It was like Damien suddenly woke up. "You'll be able to help them! Tell them that it's wrong, that they can leave."
"I can't do it!" she stroked Damien's cheek. "They must want to leave, but they'll never do it because they were broken when they were still alive. I can't work with them without a request."
"Well, when it comes to killing, she can do it without any request perfectly fine," Charlie Powell snorted beside him.
Damien chose not to interfere in their quarrel: in his army, no one was required to forgive their enemies.
"We're leaving," he said, and the crowd of his subjects headed back to the hole where the gate had been.
"Damien!" someone cried suddenly, and a soul ran to him and hugged him for dear life.
"Mum..." he said, confused. "Are you here? But you killed yourself... You jumped out of the window."
"I helped her," Mrs. Baylock said proudly.
Damien wished again that he could destroy other people's souls. He would gladly burn her with the same fire heaven had once prepared for him.
"Let's get out of here, Mum," Damien said, and they all went down.
The path was now wide and pleasant, some were singing songs, some were talking animatedly about what they'd seen, and at every turn Damien looked back to see if anyone had come out of Paradise to follow him.
But no one had.

THE END