Lucifer was everywhere in this new world, this paradise reborn, this return to Eden, and He pondered merely enjoying it. Yes, He could forego His plan, but He wouldn’t.

And then, Lucifer was nowhere.

“Where are We?” the seraph asked. Realizing that He was completely separated from everything, even His majestic form shivered. “Where am I?”

“This was Our plan,” a voice boomed out of the black.

“Met… Metatron?” Lucifer inquired.

“The Voice of God, the Bush that Burns, the lesser Tetragrammaton, for which the term YHVH was born,” the voice continued for Lucifer. “And you hath invoked Our wraith.”

“What has happened?” Lucifer asked.

“We hath removed a disloyal archangel and a disobedient, fallen seraphim from Creation. Our plan hath been fully realized.”

“Where am I?” Lucifer insisted.

“Hell is the absence of God’s love and light. This is the Nothingness, from which all of Creation was once born. You are in the true Hell.”

Metatron’s voice dissipated. And Lucifer was horridly alone, for all eternity.