The lights flickered in the underground base. The ten psychopaths that had surrounded Metatron suddenly froze. For a moment, it felt like time itself had stopped. Their eyes rolled back, their weapons clattered to the ground, and silence filled the chamber.
Metatron lowered his hand slowly, the glow of divine energy fading from his palm. "Sleep," he said softly. "You have done enough damage in this world."
One by one, the killers collapsed, their breathing steady but deep, as if trapped in an endless dream. The guardian angels spread their wings, ready to escort the victims to safety. But before they could move, Ernest stepped out of the shadows, holding a little girl by the neck. Her tears fell down her cheeks, trembling, her eyes fixed on Metatron.
"Stop right there," Ernest said coldly. His voice had no hesitation, only precision. "You move again, and she dies."
Metatron's expression hardened. "Let her go."
"Do you think I care about your morals?" Ernest replied. He pressed a small device against the child's head. "Do you know what this is? Antimatter bomb. Compact, efficient, erases everything within ten meters instantly. You can stop me, yes, but you will erase her existence in the process."
The guardian angels spread out, ready to act, but Metatron raised his hand slightly. "Don't move."
Ernest smiled. "Good. You are learning. Even glorified humans understand limits."
Metatron's eyes burned with restrained fury. "You call yourself intelligent, yet you use a child as a shield. That is not intellect. That is cowardice."
Ernest tilted his head. "Cowardice is a word fools use to justify weakness. You think this is about bravery? This is about control. Knowledge. Perfection."
He stared at the girl's terrified eyes, then turned his attention back to Metatron. "You are not the only one with faith. I believe in my own evolution. I believe in science. I believe that fear and knowledge are tools to ascend."
The girl sobbed. Metatron stepped forward slowly. "You believe in nothing. You are lost, Ernest."
Ernest's smile faded slightly. His expression turned blank, thoughtful. "Perhaps. Or maybe I have simply seen the truth. Have I become dumber? No. I have become aware. I am facing beings with no physical limitation. That means I must think beyond the physical."
He released the girl. She fell to the floor, sobbing, but before Metatron could react, Ernest whispered something under his breath. The air shimmered, and three holograms appeared around the room—Ryan, Sophia, and Thompson. Their faces flickered, expressions confused, frightened, and in pain.
Metatron looked around, his voice sharp. "What have you done?"
Ernest chuckled, stepping back into the shadows. "Activated my contingency plan. Say hello to my doubles."
A holographic version of Ernest appeared next to the others, smiling mockingly. "That is not me," the real Ernest said. "That is my doppelganger. Now, tell me, angel, can you save them all?"
The holograms shifted to display the one hundred children trapped around the room, each with a small glowing device attached to their heads. The ten psychopaths, still unconscious, were also wired with bombs.
Ernest's voice filled the chamber. "Can you save the children, the killers, and yourself at once? You can, can't you? Glorified human, chosen of God, faster than light. Go ahead."
Metatron's jaw tightened. "You are insane."
Ernest laughed, a sound both joyous and empty. "No, I am above fiction. This is not a story. This is reality. You are bound by physics, but I am not. If you move at light speed, your energy will destroy them. The antimatter bomb reacts instantly to kinetic interference. Move too fast, and everyone dies. You are powerful, yes, but you cannot outthink me."
Metatron closed his eyes for a brief moment. Then his wings expanded, light filling the room. "I trust God."
He moved, not with the speed of light but with the precision of faith. A divine barrier formed, wrapping around every child. The antimatter triggers flickered, confused by the distortion of space and grace. One by one, the lights dimmed. The children opened their eyes. The angels caught them, pulling them to safety.
For a moment, it seemed that the day had been saved. The light faded, and the barrier began to dissolve. Ernest stood silently, staring at the empty cages.
Then he smiled.
A soft beep echoed.
Metatron turned sharply. "No…"
Every child's eyes widened in horror. Their heads glowed faintly for a second, then a chain of explosions erupted through the chamber. The sound was deafening. Light, fire, and blood consumed the air. Screams filled the void, then silence fell once more.
Metatron dropped to his knees, the devastation reflected in his eyes. His scream tore through the heavens. "ERNEST!"
The sound echoed far beyond the walls of the bunker.
Ernest stood amidst the fire, his mask reflecting the glow. "You trusted a miracle," he said softly. "I trusted a plan."
He turned and walked into the smoke, disappearing through a hidden door.
Weeks later, a beggar sat on the steps of a ruined city street. His clothes were tattered, his beard grown. No one looked twice at him. Underneath the dirt and disguise, Ernest watched the world continue its slow descent into chaos. His AI network was still active, hidden beneath layers of encryption, analyzing every human behavior, every emotion, every reaction.
He spoke softly into a small device. "Thompson, status report."
A mechanical voice replied. "Behavioral simulations complete. Humanity's emotional algorithm continues to destabilize. Global trust levels decreasing. Average empathy reduced by thirty percent."
Ernest smiled faintly. "Perfect. Continue observation."
The voice of Sophia's AI cut in. "Metatron is searching for you."
"I know," Ernest said. "Let him. He needs purpose."
In the distance, Metatron stood atop a skyscraper, looking down at the city. His face was grim, his faith shaken but not broken. The angels beside him whispered in worry.
One of them said, "He hides among humans. We cannot interfere unless ordered."
"I will find him," Metatron replied. "No matter what form he takes."
The world grew colder. The incident had been broadcast worldwide. The death of the children was attributed to a terrorist attack. Yet whispers began to spread, seeded carefully by Ernest's manipulation.
A leak surfaced—videos, documents, AI forgeries—all showing Metatron working alongside Lucifer. The footage was flawless, the deception absolute. The narrative was simple: the angel had betrayed humanity, working with Hell to enslave the world.
Outrage spread like wildfire. Governments united under fear. Ernest, still dressed as a beggar, released another message under a hidden identity. "We cannot rely on angels. Humanity must defend itself. I will create weapons powerful enough to destroy even divine beings."
His plan was in motion. Factories began producing machines, armors, drones, and weapons powered by his AI. Humanity was preparing for war—against Heaven itself.
Far from the chaos, Kira watched the news in silence. She knew the truth. She had seen Ernest's mask fall once before. But without proof, her words were meaningless. She gathered her notes, her files, everything she had recorded.
"I will expose you," she whispered.
But Ernest was already watching her through a hidden drone, his voice cold through her speakers. "You should have stayed silent, Kira."
Her computer screen flashed with numbers. Then an announcement spread across every device, every network, every screen on Earth.
"Bounty issued," the automated voice declared. "Two hundred billion dollars for Kira, dead or alive."
The world froze.
People gasped. Some laughed, thinking it was a joke. But then the official broadcast repeated it—signed by the World Defense Council, verified by military codes.
"Target identified as traitor, accused of conspiring with demonic forces. Engage with full authority."
Even her own family stared at the screen in disbelief. Within minutes, soldiers surrounded her home. Helicopters circled above.
Kira ran, heart pounding, through alleys and abandoned buildings.
Metatron appeared in front of her, descending from the sky in a burst of light. "Come with me."
She stopped, tears in her eyes. "They think I'm working for Lucifer."
"I know," he said gently. He lifted her in his arms and soared upward, the city shrinking below them.
As they rose above the clouds, she whispered, "Why is this happening? Why is the world turning against me?"
Metatron looked ahead. "Because Ernest has declared war on truth."
Below them, the world burned with paranoia and greed. Millions hunted for a woman who had done nothing wrong. Nations armed themselves for a divine war. And in the ruins of the city, a beggar smiled faintly at the chaos he had created.
"Let them chase shadows," Ernest whispered. "Every mind I break brings me closer to perfection."