Michael looked at the names of her family etched into the unforgiving stone. A way to remember them. The rain of Heven poured down around her, soaking her clothes, her hair, and sending thick streams down her face to hide her sorrow. A small mercy.
Michael reached out and her delicate fingers touched the cold stone.
I’m not Lucifer. I was unable to change the path.
Her fingers dropped and absently went to the scarf tied to her arm. John didn’t have a memorial. He lived on only in her memories, and the memories of those that knew him.
I’m glad you’re the one that’s here.
To miss someone … and only have them know a chaotic fragment of her soul…
Would it have been so unbearable to stay by my side?
A choice must be respected.
It was something she told herself often since remembering what the fragment of her soul had been through in the cursed timeline. It didn’t stop the questions, though.
Michael’s jaw tensed as she crouched down in front of the stone memorial, seeing her own face reflected amongst the dead. Michael leaned into the image, her fingers gripping the cold surface as her eyes glowed and Angel Sight marred the surface. When she pulled herself back from the wall of the dead, John’s name was etched beside her family.
Did I fail you too, John? Like the rest of the names on this cursed rock.
Michael leaned forward and pressed her forehead against her reflection, like a bridge to what lies beyond. She knew death wasn’t the end, but it was…lonely. It felt like she was a rock, a memorial to the past, never changing as the world became unrecognizable around her.
“In this life or the next, Noodle Human.”
