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Crowley leaves the restaurant in tears. He won’t be coming back. His Angel’s final resting place was in the place he loved the most. The fire consumed him amongst the pages of his life. Crowley hadn’t had a heart for over six thousand years but he still felt the hole that the hellfire had burned through it. 


“Where the fuck do I go?”


Crowley barged into his apartment. He had a blank mask over his dying soul. He knocked his well-trained plants over in a fit of rage. He watched as the specks of dirt fell over the polished, concrete floor. He turned slowly, looking around the apartment he had perfected over time. He took a few special items that he treasured and put them into a small bag. He looked for a final time upon his dwelling and strutted out of the door with a sense of finality. 


Crowley stood outside the main gate of the grandiloquent apartment complex with empty eyes. He put his sunglasses on, turned around, and snapped his fingers. The building behind him burned with an unnatural fervour. The souls inside the building cried out as the flame tore through them.


Crowley’s Bentley served him well this final time as he travelled to Alpha Centauri. The car drove at speeds beating light and he arrived within the hour.


He arrived at the site of his final creation before his fall. Memories of the time before his fall and his grief fell back as he relived his moments as an angel. 


A singing voice echoed through the system, interrupting his reflection.


“𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖'𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘!

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘!

𝕎𝕙𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕖?

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕦𝕟𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕪!

𝕊𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕪!”


Crowley jumped, not having expected any other activity in the system. 


“𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕠 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟!

ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟!

𝕆𝕙, 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕪 𝕚𝕟 𝕤𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕤?

𝔻𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕙𝕖𝕟𝕕? ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕤?

𝔹𝕝𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕤𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤!”


Crowley turned around in his seat, looking for the source of the telling voice.


“𝕃𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘

𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕖𝕕𝕕𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘

ℕ𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕦𝕥 𝕒𝕟 𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕒𝕕 𝕠𝕟𝕖

𝕊𝕒𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕓𝕪𝕖𝕤, 𝕀 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕧𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕗𝕦𝕟

𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕦𝕤 𝕖𝕥 𝕧𝕚𝕧𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕦𝕞!”


Crowley saw it


“What the fuck.”


In all his years Crowley had never seen such an uncanny, repulsive creature. It was a huge blue mass bearing no resemblance to anything on Earth. And Crowley knew as he had made some of the things. Crowley walked up to it,


“The hell are you?”


The blue mass turned. 






The blue mass seemed to stare at him, despite his eyes looking rather stone-like and not alive. 


“𝕀 𝕒𝕞 𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕦𝕤. 𝔾𝕠𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝟜𝟙𝟛𝕥𝕙 𝔻𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟.”


Crowley was frightened. He never knew that there were other dimensions besides the one he resided in. And other gods ? Wasn’t there just the One?


“What are you? What are you doing here?”


Crowley wondered what this entity was. And what it was doing here.


“𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕞 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕪, 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕓𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕄𝕒𝕟. 𝕀 𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕚𝕫𝕖. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕞.”


“Well, I certainly hope it’s not.”


“𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝒹𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂?”


“My what?”


“𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝓎𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓇. 𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂?”


“Oh, my eyes.”


Crowley considered how delusional it would be to confess the whole tragedy upon this entity. Well, better in than out.


“My friend, Aziraphale, was killed by the weapon of my enemy. There is no way for him to come back.”


“𝐼 𝒶𝓅𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝒾𝓏𝑒, 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹. 𝒜𝓏𝒾𝓇𝒶𝓅𝒽𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊.”


“He was. He was the only one who acted angelically. I’d kill the bastards who did it. Only, it isn’t what he’d do.”


“𝒲𝒽𝑜 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓂𝒾𝑒𝓈? 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓂?”


“They inhabit Hell. And please, don’t go after them. I’ll get to them in due time.”


“𝒜𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒. 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊? 𝒲𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒜𝓏𝒾𝓇𝒶𝓅𝒽𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔?”


“Who says I’m running ?”


“𝑀𝓎 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓃. 𝒲𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒.”


Crowley stopped to consider Aziraphale’s fall. He shouldn’t leave his angel alone. Not after all they’d been through.


“How do I honour him? He is worth every realm to me. Nothing I could ever do would compare.”


“𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁. 𝐻𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊.”


Crowley thought on what Grobletombus had said. He owed it to Aziraphale to at least try to understand what all six thousand years of friendship had meant to him, and he should at least try to honour Aziraphale and all that he had done for him. 


“Thank you. I will honour him in the ashes of his life.”


Crowley decided that he would not leave the bookshop in shambles. Even if the end of the World was coming he would commemorate Aziraphale’s memory from the ruins of their life.


“𝐼𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒, 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇. 𝐼 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓌. 𝐹𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁, 𝒞𝓇𝑜𝓌𝓁𝑒𝓎.”


“Goodbye, Grobletombus.”


Crowley revved up the Bentley. Grobletombus tore a hole through nothing, but Crowley looked through and saw another universe, one much more chaotic and disorderly than his own. Crowley looked away, as seeing it for too long made him feel slightly dizzy. 


Once Grobletombus had moved through the tear he had made in space-time, and the hole was resealed, Crowley stepped on the gas and moved so quickly one could have sworn it was somehow faster than the prior trip. 


“I’ll never forget you, Angel.”