"Did you hear that?" a young angel asked his companion beside him.
"I heard."
"They're calling for Father."
"Mm."
"Do you think Father will answer?"
His companion fell silent for a moment.
"Father is gone. Now there is a new God."
The young angel did not reply.
He stood there, looking out the window. Outside was the city, gray beneath an overcast sky, the clouds hanging very low. He looked for a long time, then turned, picked up the dough on the conveyor belt, and went back to work.
A new era. Everyone knew a new era had arrived.
It had not come slowly. It had come crashing down all at once. Yanar, Cassiel, and Sariel had been recalled, granted the rank of Archangel, the S-shield on their chests glowing. Those Archangels from the old era knelt in the place of exile, calling for Father, and Father did not answer.
No one answered.
The lights in the factory were very bright, and the machines had started turning again.
An old angel bent down, picked up the dough that had fallen to the floor, and placed it back on the conveyor belt. She said nothing, only kept working, her movements very slow, very gentle.
Outside the workshop, the wind was blowing.
The clouds hung very low, pressing over the city like a quilt far too heavy. No one spoke. Everyone was working. A new era had come.
But the work still had to go on.
When Ian pushed the door open and stepped out of Heaven, the moon was still hanging in the sky. He stood in his own room, the door made of light slowly closing behind him. No sound, no trace. The curtains lifted in the wind, and moonlight leaked in through the gap, falling across the floor.
He