Perfection is suffocating.
The angel soared through the clouds of Heaven, enveloped in a gentle breeze that carried with it a comforting warmth. Above him, the sun radiated brilliantly, casting away any hint of darkness and bringing boundless joy to the beings below. And below him, spread out as far as the eye could see, were humans—each nestled in their own personal paradises, basking in their individual perfections.
Beside the angel, other angels flew effortlessly through the sky, their forms radiant and serene. Everything seemed to exude happiness, with every soul content in this tranquil and idyllic afterlife—an eternity of peace and pleasure.
It was apathetic.
The angel seamlessly blended in with the other male angels, all of them halo-less and nameless, their identical pure white wings creating a striking uniformity from afar. Clad in matching attire—crisp white button-down shirts, sharp white suits, and impeccably polished white shoes—they moved as a singular entity, indistinguishable from one another. The female angels mirrored this uniformity in their appearance.
Yet, there was one notable distinction that set the angel apart: his face. It wasn't his physical appearance, much like all the other angels, he possessed the conventional attributes of attractiveness that rendered them virtually indistinguishable from one another. Rather, it was the look on his face—an expression of annoyance, boredom, and apathy—that distinguished him from his counterparts. Amidst the sea of positivity that surrounded him, he stood out as a lone figure of disinterest and discontent.
"What's up with you, man? We're angels, so smile!" chirped one of the male angels flying beside him, radiating excitement and positivity. The angel glanced at him from the corner of his eye and sighed, recognizing the familiar presence of Kevin. That was the name the angel had given him, borrowing it from overheard human conversations about friends in paradise. It seemed fitting, though ultimately inconsequential, as angels only received true names from beings higher than themselves.
"What do you want?" the angel replied, his tone lacking any semblance of sociability.
"A smile that rivals the sun, of course," Kevin replied, his positivity unwavering. The angel's eye twitched. Kevin was a beacon of positivity, shining brighter than the rest and setting himself apart somewhat. His relentless optimism almost prompted a change in the angel's mood—to something even more annoyed—but, as they say, it's the thought that counts.
To get him off his back, the angel forced a fake smile, struggling to keep it straight. "That's the spirit!" Kevin exclaimed, giving a thumbs up, seemingly oblivious to the smile's falseness. The angel nodded, though the fake smile pained him, not physically but in a spiritual sense.
Kevin then shifted his attention to a female angel. "Okay, you keep that up. I'm going to go talk to her, alright, buddy?" He said, giving the angel a pat on the arm before flying off to join the female angel. As soon as Kevin flew further away, the angel let the fake smile fade. *It hurts,* echoed the words in his mind as he redirected his gaze to the destination of his and every other halo-less, nameless angel's flight: a shimmering white obelisk that floated above the clouds of Heaven itself.
To experience paradise and perfection, one must go through pain and mediocrity.
The angel sat in a comfortable chair in front of a desk. Atop the desk lay paperwork and a futuristic, high-tech, and magical-looking computer. Otherwise, the desk was bare, lending the space a sterile feeling. The angel rested his head on his right hand and let out another sigh. "The same things again," he muttered.
Around him in cubicles were other angels, all of them with the exact same setup—paperwork and the aforementioned computer-like device on their desks. This was a side of Heaven not seen by most humans, where angels performed monotonous tasks repeatedly in pursuit of being given a name. The angel himself had been doing the same tasks for over two hundred years without change, without true challenge within paradise.
What is the point of luxury when you haven't earned it?
The angel took a sip of the perfect drink. "So bland," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He looked around the breakroom, where angels like him mingled with others of their kind. His eyes glazed over them, all blending into a white glob of similarity and familiarity.
Suddenly, he felt someone smack him on the back, right where his wings would emerge. "Hey! How's it going?" It was Kevin, accompanied by an annoyingly cheerful expression. The angel turned to him with a face filled with annoyance and a very slight blush. "Why did you touch there?" he asked sharply in a whisper. "You know that's sensitive, right?"
Kevin's response was a sheepish "Oh, yeaaah," followed by a self-inflicted tap on his head with his knuckles. "I forgot."
Another sigh escaped the angel as he felt his eye twitching again. "Whatever, what do you want?" he asked, his irritation palpable.
Kevin gave a smile before leaning closer and whispering into the angel's ear, "I heard that an Archangel is coming today, so I wanted to give you a heads up."
The angel narrowed his eyes at the mention of an Archangel. It was the highest point an angel could reach, with both a name and a halo and sometimes different colored wings. Throughout history, there have only been sixteen Archangels. Currently, only twelve of these sixteen exist, or at least reside in Heaven.
"And, so? It's not like I care about a promotion or whatever," the angel said dismissively. Kevin put his arm around the angel's shoulders, much to his annoyance. "Eh, you don't? Well, whatever. Now you know, and I got to use it as an excuse to talk to you," Kevin said with a smile that made the angel think, *I want to punch him.*
Then, all of a sudden, they both heard two of their supervisors, named angels, whose names the angel didn't bother remembering, talking nearby. "Did you hear about the whole Aetheria situation?" one asked. "Yeah, which one of us named ones didn't? Though I don't really see a reason to talk about it," the other replied casually before taking a sip of the perfect drink he held in his hand.
"I mean, it's another world we're not going to save from demons, right? Don't you think that number is getting quite high?" asked the first angel, his tone filled with concern.
"What do you think we should do? It's not like we have enough operators and angels to protect everything. Besides, it's not like they even pray to us, so what's the point?" replied the second angel, waving off the first angel dismissively.
The angel clenched his fists in anger, glaring at the angels who were meant to be his superiors. As if able to sense his animosity, they turned in his direction, only to find him gone. Kevin had pulled him away and out of the breakroom. They both stood in an office hallway, with a long, giant window looking over the paradise below right next to them.
"Look, there's a little girl playing with a swan down there!" Kevin said with nervous excitement, trying to distract the angel, who had a darkened look on his face.
"What's the point?" the angel asked, frustration clear in his voice. Kevin rubbed the back of his head, a nervous habit. "Who knows? Anyway, look, there's a couple renewing their wedding vows!" he said, not only trying to distract the angel but also seemingly himself.
"We're supposed to be messengers of God and the image of justice, so what's the point?" the angel asked again, gritting his teeth in frustration. Kevin's smile faltered for just a second before he put his hand on the angel's shoulder, prompting him to look into his eyes. "I don't know," Kevin replied sincerely. He was as lost as the angel when it came to the meaning of their existence.
Paradise is punishment.
The angel once again sat in his comfortable chair, staring blankly into the abyss of perfection, trying to wait out eternity. *There's no point anymore,* he thought to himself, feeling his soul darken. *We're all just decorations in the machine of perfection, just there as dress-up for it to look appealing,* he concluded.
He was broken from his thoughts as he heard everyone around him suddenly stand up. The reason? Someone important had walked in. The angel also stood up like everyone else and watched as someone wearing a loose black suit and a red buttoned-down shirt walked in, his menacing-looking red eyes gazing over the angels.
"The hell? None of these punks are interesting," the Archangel said brashly, making everyone widen their eyes in surprise. The Archangel wiped away a strand of his white hair from his eyes. "Don't fucking gawk in surprise, it's the truth. All of you are boring as this entire dump," he continued, with all the grace of a dying gazelle, making everyone even more shocked. Even the angel looked at him in confusion. *An Archangel behaving like that?* he thought. It just didn't make any sense.
Suddenly, the Archangel locked eyes with him, making him freeze. "Huh? Nevermind," the Archangel muttered before he pointed at the angel and yelled, "Oi, punk! You're coming with me!"
To suffer is to live.