"Do you know who Jesus is, Doug?"

It was hard for Doug to think while hanging upside down with his hands quite uncomfortably bound behind his back, but he was pretty sure he'd never met a Jesus. "No, I don't think I know him."

His questioner smiled, and it still looked like a smile even upside down. "You wouldn't know him personally. I was just wondering if you knew of him."

"No, I don't. Uh... who is he?"

A light shove sent Doug swinging and spinning around. All he could see of the room around him was darkness. A firm hand grabbed him and he was back to being face to face with his captor. Upside down and in a dark room, it was hard to see him too well. He appeared neither young nor old, but he had a regal air to him... and it wasn't just the suit he was wearing. Doug just had this feeling that, for some reason, he was now talking to someone very important. Despite his predicament, Doug was a bit flattered that anyone important would bother talking to him.

"It's an old story, Doug." The man smiled again. "Jesus was a man of great principle. He lived his life never compromising those principles, and do you know what happened to him?"

Doug shook his head.

"He died penniless and abandoned by his friends."

Doug thought about that. "That's not much of a story."

The man let Doug go, and he swung back and forth a bit. "Well... there's a bit more to it, but that's the gist of it. You can call me Stan, by the way. You're probably wondering why you're here."

"Yeah... that's true. Last I remember I was in my barracks going to sleep." As much as Doug hated hanging upside down, he was hoping this meant he could miss the battle tomorrow. Then again, his best friend Bryce was counting on him. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, not at all."

"Then why am I hanging upside down like this?"

Stan shrugged. "Why not?"

Doug thought about that. "Because I don't like it."

"It was a rhetorical question, Doug."

Doug thought even harder. "Is that like a math question?"

A woman's voice then piped in, "Is this going somewhere, Stan?" Doug tilted his head to see the embers of a cigarette being smoked by someone standing a ways back from Stan.

Stan still faced Doug. "Patience, Ms. Bee. Doug has an important mission to do for us."

"I do?" Doug was never given anything important to do as he had usually screwed up even the simple tasks.

"You're quite special, Doug."

"Really? How?" The only thing Doug could think of that he could do well was make coffee. No matter how many bullets and bombs were flying, Doug could be counted on to make at least one decent pot.

"Let's not worry about the specifics." Stan seemed to stop to think, and Doug tried to look at him a bit more closely.

"Do I know you?"

Stan smiled. "I'm often told I look familiar." He leaned closer to Doug. "I'm God."

Doug could hear Ms. Bee laughing. Stan now turned toward her. "If you're not going to help, do you have something else you could be doing?"

She laughed again. "I'll be quiet; I don't want to suffer the wrath of the Lord."

Doug, as usual, was confused. "Empress Proserpine says she is God."

Stan shoved Doug, sending him spinning again. "As do the five other Emperors, but the problem is there can be only one true God. After The Great War and the defeat of the prior ruler, there's been a foolish rush to power." Stan grabbed Doug. "Everyone wants to rule the world, Doug, but few would know what to do with it should he succeed. I know what needs to be done, though."

"Who was the prior ruler?"

Stan stepped back. "Let's not worry about him."

"He was a jerk," Ms. Bee added and smoked her cigarette.

"Suffice it to say, the old ruler was defeated in The Great War," Stan said.

"The one with the nukes?"

"Yeah, that one, Doug. It was a continuation of a battle that started long ago... one fought over a long, long time. It's nearly over, but the world has to be put in order again. That's where you come in."

Doug tried, and failed, to process all this. "Well, I'm not very good at... uh... stuff. I’m just a soldier, and not a very good one. I’m not even sure I score high enough on tests to get that fry cook job I want after I’m out of the military."

"You'll do, Doug; don't worry. You have a greater destiny than frying things. Now, do you know what the Emperors are?"

He had always wondered that. "I think they're supposed to be really powerful."

"They are, and they're not human."

Doug furrowed his brow. "Are they aliens?"

Stan considered that a moment. "Something like that. Let's call them the 'Fallen'."

"What did they fall from?"

"Not important. What is important is that they are evil. You know what evil is, don't you, Doug?"

"Like really bad, I think."

Ms. Bee giggled. "It's like we're dealing with a child."

"Hey! It's hard to think when you're hung upside down in the dark!" Doug shouted.

"Ignore her, Doug. Anyway, these Emperors are quite bad and must be dealt with, but they cannot be killed."

"Even if you shot them in the face?"

"Yes."

Doug thought about that. "Did you try shooting them in the face?"

"He's got you there," Ms. Bee said.

"Shut up, Bee. No, Doug, shots to the face aren't going to do it. These beings can't even harm each other. That's why they use you humans to fight for power. They believe if they can defeat all the others and have all the remaining humans as their followers, they can be rulers of all there is."

"But you want to rule?" Doug looked at Stan wondering if he was one of those beings that didn't mind being shot in the face. He looked like a regular person to him... just maybe cleaner.

"I orchestrated The Great War." Stan started to appear angry. "I gave us this opportunity, and those fools are squandering it in pointless battles. Thus, something must be done about the Fallen. They can't be killed, but there is an old prison - the oldest prison - which used to hold them. I need your help sending them back."

"Where's the prison?"

"It's... um... well..." Stan paused for a moment. "You've seen sci-fi movies, Doug. Let's just say it's in another dimension."

Doug now considered this on top of everything else and only found himself getting increasingly confused. "Are you sure you can't just shoot them in the face?"

Stan grabbed Doug. "Forget about shooting in the face! Okay?"

"Sorry!"

Ms. Bee laughed again. "Oh, this is so going to work."

Stan closed his eyes and, when he reopened them, he was much calmer. "The only way to deal with the Fallen is to send them to this prison. The problem is that no one has done such a thing for thousands of years... since that one called Jesus I told you about."

"The guy who died penniless and with no friends?"

"Yes, but we'll try to keep that from happening to you."

This was a lot for Doug to process. The part he still had the most trouble with is that someone seemed to be counting on him to do something of importance. "Uh... so what do we do?"

Stan paused for a moment. "We'll have to figure that out, but I have confidence you can take on the Fallen."

Doug was pretty sure he heard Ms. Bee stifle another laugh. "All of them?" Doug asked. "If anyone found out I was plotting against Empress Proserpine, I'd be in big trouble... the sort where they gut you."

"Don't worry; you won't take on an Emperor at this point. There are many Fallen, and most serve one Emperor or another. We'll start low, and see what we can do." He smiled. "This should be fun."

"So what happens to me now?" Doug tried to look up at the rope he was dangling from. "Can I get down from here?"

"Soon enough. I'll return you to your barracks. Tomorrow, go to battle as normal, but do whatever you can to keep safe. Avoid any unnecessary risks. We need you alive, Doug."

If there was one thing Doug had done successfully in Emperess Proserpine's wars so far, it was stay alive… but just barely. "Okay."

"We'll talk again soon. Good luck."

Stan's face began to become blurry and fade away. Before everything disappeared, he heard Ms. Bee utter, "I’m just going to go ahead and start working on the next plan."

NEXT

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