Pain.
Red hot pain.
Drowning, in a whirlpool of Watchers, their eyes weeping grit, and at the hole of the world, where grime, tears, and natal fluids of ice and fire fell into a gaping yawn of a void, Lucifer and Metatron, hovering in the vortex like a pack of starved wolves.
They held my naked body, devoured me from head to toe, raised my heart, set it on fire, then fed it to the cast off wine dregs of World Falls.
My heart burst into a star, and a phoenix rose, crackling with Holy Dove fire, like when Jesus fused with me to save Michael.
The Lion of Judah wrestled the Phoenix, and Samael's snake intertwined with my claws and Michael's paws - the great dancers of the elements, beasts defiling nature, raised three sons, cherubim immanent with baby blues, up to a New Jerusalem:
One redheaded.
A black haired boy.
And a blonde Antichrist.
