Los Angeles, California

April 29th, 2010

It is a breezy spring day in the middle of Los Angeles. A park is bustling with the sound of children and birds. The leaves sway softly in the wind, carrying the sweet aroma of the fresh green fauna.

A non-descript man sits on a bench by himself. No one notices him, as he stares so profoundly into the sky. He wears a brown leather jacket, black khaki pants and brown leather shoes. His shoulders are broad and his gaze is serenely calm.

Another man approaches the bench from across the green field.

This man is thin and, to a certain extent, handsome. One would expect a man like him to be on the cover of a famous clothing magazine. He wears denim jeans, a Kashmir sweater, and a pair of black and white Converse.

He carries a foot long BBQ chicken sandwich in one hand, in its brown paper bag, and smiles as the wind blows against his wavy brown hair.

The non-descript man on the bench waves to him to catch his attention.

The thin man catches his wave and heads over to him swiftly, as if he were walking on clouds.

The thin man's green eyes brighten and he smiles, holding out his hand.

"Longtime no see, old friend."

The non-descript man stands up, shakes his hand, and gives him a friendly embrace.

"Ramiel!" He smiles, patting the thin man's back. " I was half expecting you to drop in from the sky, my friend."

Ramiel laughs. "I went to go pick up my lunch." He replies, holding up his sandwich. "Care to have half of it?"

"I thought you and your kind weren't suppose to feel hunger." The non-descript man says with a chuckle. "Since when do you eat so often?"

"Since I was sent down here to blend in, of course." Ramiel answers. "Though I have gotten this eating thing into a bad habit...but what can I say? Angels were taught to love. And I love the way this food tastes."

The non-descript man gives Ramiel a hearty laugh and the two of them sit down on the old brown bench.

"So, what did you bring me here for?" Ramiel asks. "Still feeling pain in those big shoulders of yours?" He continues, patting the non-descript man's left shoulder.

"No, no." the non-descript man replies. "The pain is no longer present. I brought you here for another reason."

"What is it?"

"It's an innocent question, really."

"Shoot."

"I mean, it shouldn't be much of a problem to answer."

"I'm all ears."

"I want to know more…about the plan." The non-descript man hesitantly says.

Ramiel glances down at the green grass below them and shakes his head.

"Atlas…you know I can't tell you." He replies.

"After all these centuries, Ramiel? Give me a break…"

"Yes…even after all these centuries. Only the four archangels who surround Him know God's plan. I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to."

"You must know something." Atlas continues. "Or at least have an idea."

Ramiel shakes his head. "I don't. I simply follow orders."

Atlas lays back on the bench and stares up into the sky with a long sigh.

"And as I recall…" Ramiel continues. "My last order was to save your ass from punishment."

"So?" Atlas replies, still staring up at the clear blue sky.

"So…what I'm trying to tell you is to loosen up a bit, friend! Enjoy Earth while it's still here."

Ramiel grabs his sandwich and holds it up.

"Mind if I indulge?" He asks.

"Not at all." Atlas answers.

Ramiel unwraps the sandwich and takes a hungry bite.

"Aay," Ramiel continues with a mouthful of food." How's the search going, anyway?'

"The search for the gods?" Atlas inquires.

Ramiel nods in agreement, chewing his food.

"Well… I've only found three since last month. Huehuecoyotl in New Mexico…"

"Oh, he must've given you trouble." Ramiel grins.

"Almost got me run over by bulls." Atlas responds, laughing now that he looked back on it. "I also found Freyr over in Nevada, living in an old house full of lustful women."

"You sure it wasn't a brothel?" Ramiel asks.

"Didn't bother to check." Atlas replies.

"It was probably a brothel." Ramiel continues before taking another bite of his sandwich. "And who else?"

Atlas takes a deep breath and sighs. "I also managed to find Susano-o in San Francisco."

"You gave them all my number, right?"

"Yes, I did."

"And you told them everything I told you?"

"As best I could."

"Awesome." Ramiel cheers, taking his third bite out of the sandwich.

"Awesome?" Atlas chuckles. "I think you've been here way too long, my friend."

Ramiel shrugs and chews his food, staring into the distance of the vibrant park.

"You know," Atlas continues. "They were all confused when I told them Heaven…Judeo- Christian heaven needed their services."

"So were you…but you came along nicely, didn't you?"

"They all had reason to believe you and your kind were trying to kill them."

"Why?"

"Why?" Atlas repeats in disbelief. "I think you should know the answer to that question already."

"I don't, but please elaborate."

"Well, where should I start? How about with that incident in Spain? Or perhaps the Black Sea disaster? Not to mention you and your angels have already succeeded in killing Zeus."

"That bastard had it coming. You know that."

"But Artemis and Hermes? Did they have it coming to them as well?"

"I told you," Ramiel replies. " Zeus refused to let us free you. And his little lapdogs chose to stand by his side. We had no other choice."

Atlas shakes his head and pauses, staring out into the sunlit distance.

"I still don't understand it. Why go through all the trouble to free me? I can name over one hundred other gods who are much stronger and wiser than I am."

Ramiel smiles and pats Atlas' back.

"Don't worry about it, friend. All will come together very soon."

"Is that you or your 'father' talking?"

Ramiel ignores the comment and takes another bite of his sandwich. He stuffs it back into its brown paper bag, saving the rest for later.

"You're special." He says with yet another mouthful of food, checking his watch. "You just don't know it yet."

Atlas shakes his head and turns his nonchalant gaze to a mother and her young son, playfully making a sand castle near the swings. He tries to imagine having a life like theirs. He tries to imagine himself being mortal.

"Well, my friend," Ramiel suddenly says, standing up from the bench. "About time I hit the old dusty trail, I'd say."

"Angel business?"

Ramiel smiles. "Yeah, punishing the wicked and blessing the just, all that jazz."

Atlas smiles, stands up and shakes his hand.

"Until we meet again…right?" he says.

"Until we meet again." Ramiel replies.

With that, the Greek God and the angel of the Lord head in two different directions, treading a path neither of them can even begin to recognize.