“Remember our bargain. We’re keeping keep this to ourselves, right?”

Hansen looked at his ex-car. “What am I going to tell my insurance company?”

Qaphsiel thought. “Act of God, perhaps?”

“They won’t pay for that!”

“Then I can’t help, other than to suggest you get better insurance, Hansen. But thanks for the jacket.” Qaphsiel walked a few steps. When his knee started to ache he thought of something and went back. He grabbed the boy by the shirt and looked deep into his eyes. “Beelzebub. Is that you in there?”

Hansen didn’t move or try to squirm away, but he looked like if he could have slid out of his skin like a snake, he would have gladly run down the street, just a bunch of wet muscles and bones. “Dude, I don’t know any Beelzebub. Is he another X-Man?”

Qaphsiel gritted his teeth. “Leviathan?”

“Please, man. I just want to go home. Take my jacket. Just don’t Wolverine me.”

“Sorry,” said Qaphsiel. He let go of the boy and smoothed down his shirt. “I just had to check.”

It was dark now. A crowd was beginning to gather around the wreck. Qaphsiel limped back up Gower. He opened his map. The lines of force were there. The stars. Best of all, a spot on the map pulsed with light, and it was just a few blocks away. Qaphsiel laughed and waved. “Thank you, Hansen,” he yelled, holding up the map. “It’s working again.” No one in the crowd waved back. They were too busy posing by the wrecked car and puffing out their muscles like the Hulk.

Qaphsiel looked up toward Heaven, more sure than ever that today had been a test of his resolve. To get so close, then having a broken map and a traffic accident. If it was one of Lucifer’s little Job scenarios, someone in Heaven had been looking out for him. Raphael? Sure, maybe someone in the crowd had snapped a photo of his wings, but the world was full of crazy Photoshopped images. No, the accident and photos weren’t important. Not with a working map in his hand. Qaphsiel tried running to the glowing address, but his scraped leg refused to comply. Screw that. Patience might be a virtue, but he’d been virtuous for a long time. If he had to bunny-hop all the way to Fountain Avenue, he’d do it.

As he went he thought that after he destroyed the world, there were things he was going to miss. Sunsets. Pangolins. Spats (admittedly, he hadn’t seen any of those for a while, but he remembered them fondly). Continental drift and photosynthesis. Spaghetti and banana pudding (no, Qaphsiel didn’t eat, but he liked the smells). Muscle cars. The color plaid. He thought for a moment. Was plaid a color? Whatever it was, he liked it. Also, those fizzy mountains that made such pretty colors. Volcanoes.

Yes, he’d miss those.