The legionaries finally found that they had a few years to actually be children in, and blended in with the other kids, losing a few members to acceptance of the new environment but gaining a few just out of curiosity and wish for adventure.
Jesus rebuilt the Millennial Kingdom world in His image: green, flat (not in the flat-earther sense, but devoid of mountains other than the gentlest hills), a sort of enormous suburban front lawn. No more storms in the sea, no more snow or bad weather - no more night, in fact, thanks to the sky canopy reflecting and supernaturally amplifying sunlight.
As if to stomp on any space ambition anyone might still have, the sky canopy was a meter of water encased by a meter of solid ice, seventy kilometers up.
But even the Natural-bodied believers and a few Glorified saw something amiss.
(From "Left Behind: Kingdom Come: The Final Victory. Excerpt authorized for reproduction as per the book's special copyright notice)
"You know what I miss?" Bruce said late one night in the Negev as he and Rayford sat outside by a small fire. "Darkness."
The rest of the team slept in the massive trailer, heavy shades pulled against the daylight-like beaming of the moon.
Rayford chuckled. "You know what the Bible says about that. Men love darkness rather than light because their deeds are evil."
"Yeah, I think I was the one who taught you that, Ray. And yep, that's me. Evil."
"I know what you mean, though, Bruce. I'd love a starlit night to aid my sleep. But you've been to heaven, where there is no night, not even shadow. Were you tired of it there?"
Bruce shook his head. "Heaven is different. And I can't wait till the books are opened and all the believers go. As fascinating as this world and this kingdom are, I can't think they hold a candle to the next."
They chatted long into the night, plotting the coming weeks of their mission. Bruce told Rayford of Kenny's call. "Think of it, man. Who'd have ever thought I'd officiate your second wedding, your daughter's, and her son's?"
(End excerpt)
Andy had to admit that there was something good about the Millennial Kingdom: the human rate of aging had slowed considerably. According to Scripture, unbelievers would curl up and die at age 100, but they'd look metabolically 20 then.
That was a long time away. Between planning and plotting under the nose of Cameron and Chloe, there would finally be time to be a kid, play, laugh, do silly things of no consequence. Andy found themself thanking God for small blessings, and meaning it. Which God? Probably not Yahweh the genocidal maniac. Whichever God is listening, Andy thought.
The vast expanse of verdant lawns, the perpetual daylight, and the consistent gentle weather might have seemed like paradise to many, but to the ever-vigilant legionaries, it was simply a new environment to adapt to. There were no shadowy corners to hide in, no varying climates to exploit for strategy, and with such an openly organized and visible world, covert operations became challenging. But in a twist of irony, this challenge is what kept the children grounded.
With the world's battles seemingly put to rest, the legionaries often found themselves in open fields, playing games, laughing and enjoying the freedom they'd never known. They had been trained to think of every movement, every action, as part of a greater strategy. Now, the same maneuvers used in tactical drills became games, the symbols once used to communicate secretly turned into secret handshakes, and their instincts for surveillance morphed into innocent curiosity.
Mara, now visibly a few years older, often led a group in what appeared to be playful sparring sessions. To the untrained eye, it was a delightful sight: children laughing, tumbling, and chasing each other. But to Andy, each movement held significance, and even in play, they practiced and honed their skills.
Toby, having grown into his teens, was still a techie at heart. He tinkered with whatever he could find, often attempting to invent or innovate, driven by curiosity and the thrill of discovery. He missed the stars, the night skies which once held limitless possibilities of space and the unknown. One of his projects became creating a simulated night sky for the children, a gentle reminder of what once was.
The blending of two worlds was evident in their day-to-day. The teachings of the Millennial Kingdom became stories they would discuss, debate, and often act out in play. And the tales of bravery, cunning, and strategy from their past became legends they would tell younger children during their rare moments of rest.
But it was during those late nights, just like the one Bruce and Rayford had, that the older legionaries would gather, look up at the unyielding canopy of light, and share whispered dreams of a world beyond this. They cherished the memories of the stars, the beauty of the night, and the tales of adventures that took place in the darkness. Those were stories of resilience, bravery, and triumph against all odds.
The Millennial Kingdom offered them peace and a semblance of childhood, but it also held the promise of another challenge, another adventure. And as they grew, adapting to the world around them, the legionaries knew that they would never stop seeking, learning, and growing. They had been shaped by adversity, but they would define their future with hope.
Serious plans intermingled with schoolkid fantasies. Stage a terror attack on the Ultimate Temple? Storm Greater Jerusalem? That didn't seem feasible, now or a thousand years hence.
Sergey, one of the kids that weren't in the Legion but had started hanging out with the Legionaries reminisced about his dad being a rocket scientist, left unemployed by the Soviet Union's collapse. Left with little money but much time, he took his son ice-fishing from a very early age, another simple pleasure lost now that all the lakes were temperate and the only ice was to be found in Antarctica.
"You know, we could build a rocket that pokes through the canopy." The thought was shared, played with, and then shelved for, maybe, the future.
Andy had been trained, conditioned in fact, to think of a military solution above all; so were most of the original legionaries. But that seemed an impossibility.
Eventually, over the years the group lost enough original members and gained enough new ones that it didn't make sense to call it the Legion anymore.
"Jesus is so obsessed with being the light of the world that He hid the sun" Jenny mused one day "we should be The Other Light".
The name stuck.
The Other Light became not just a group but an identity. With each passing day, they took on tasks that seemed impossible or too ambitious to many. They continued to blend with the society, keeping a low profile, and often appearing like any other group of children and teenagers. But beneath the innocent facade lay a deep well of strategic planning, creativity, and a thirst for knowledge.
Their meetings became a blend of discussing ancient tactics, understanding new age technology, and exploring the principles of science. Building a rocket wasn't a child's dream anymore; it was a possibility. The canopy that Jesus had constructed was a challenge they felt driven to overcome. To pierce the veil and see what lay beyond became a metaphor for their quest for knowledge and understanding.
With the tales of old rocket scientists and the skills they collectively possessed, they started gathering resources. Ancient textbooks, remnants from the world before, became their gold. They began clandestine operations to procure materials and tools they would need. Each member had a role, from researching propulsion systems to designing the blueprint and managing resources.
While the world outside moved in blissful oblivion, The Other Light worked tirelessly in secret underground locations. They also worked on creating diversion tactics to keep their operations hidden. Innocuous community projects, public performances, and even religious debates and engagements were all strategies they employed.
Yet, with all their plans, The Other Light had no intentions of harming or rebelling against the new order. Their aim wasn't to conquer or overthrow, but to discover, to push boundaries, to challenge the status quo, and to ignite the spirit of exploration in a world that seemed to have lost its curiosity.
And as years went by, they became legends whispered about in the corners of the Kingdom. Some spoke of them with disdain, as rebels who defied the will of Jesus. Others spoke of them with admiration, seeing them as the torchbearers of human curiosity and spirit. The children of The Other Light grew, but their quest remained the same, a beacon of hope and ambition in a world that had become too comfortable in its perfection.
Eventually, COT transitioned from an orphanage to a sort of themed daycare as the older kids came into their teenage years, some even joining COT staff and working under Cameron and Chloe. Andy was not one of them. A good tactical leader, but with little grasp of strategy, they'd found themselves operating a small underground base not too far from the COT campus. There they built weapons and surveillance gear, copied old-world books and media for underground distribution, and - at least Andy - made sure that the various Other Light offshoots didn't overdo it; Andy knew that a TOL cell was planning to reintroduce rave parties in France, and another was intending to kidnap missionaries in Osaze, what used to be called Egypt. Andy had their hands full walking the line between being relevant and not bringing down divine wrath until they were ready for it.
One of the members of the French cell, Ignace Jospin, said that he needed to introduce someone to Andy. "My cousin Cendrillon. She's a little... milquetoast, but has some good ideas. And the younger kids love her!"
"Good for her, maybe we can get her to recruit, but-"
"No, no. She's really good at getting people to play along. And remember your old talk of building a canopy-breaching rocket? She's going to take all her years of COT pay and put them in it. She says she's already got a design from Sergey - she just needs manpower."
Andy smiled. They'd have said "kidpower" just a few years ago. Ignace had even taken up smoking to make his voice lower, and could in fact pass for an adult, which had been expedient a few times. Andy remembered Sergey and his stories about ice fishing in Karelia with his rocket-scientist father.
"Happy to meet, but... Cendrillon? That means Cinderella. Why the nickname?"
"It's her real name. She was the first kid born after the Rapture in... well, anywhere, we think. So my aunt-"
"We'll meet."
Andy was curious. The Legion had also been called the Firstborn. Well, here was the real firstborn. Was she worried about turning 100 soon? Why had she never joined either TOL or the church?
