Metatron stared down on Creation and whispered to it.

“Let there be Famine,” He said. And millions of empty stomachs gurgled in reply.

“And let there be Pestilence,” He said. And millions of hospital patients agonized in reply.

“And let there be War,” He said. And millions of guns burst into life in reply.

“And let there be Death,” He said. And millions of people fell silent in reply.

“And let there be Conquest and Victory,” He said. “Earned by those with free will but not granted frivolously.” And Blake and Simon — knowing all was right in the world — sighed with relief in reply.