He had finally made it back home. Whether he believed the events that had transpired or not, they had happened. Sitting less than comfortably in his favorite chair, he was sure of that. The proof physically hurt in his extremities. The scars of the final fight would irritate him forever.
He lit another cigarette.
Flames in the fireplace bounced dim light about the room. He wondered if it might be a sign of his eternity. After all, he had led them against the Almighty. He was trained and unleashed against Him for the benefit of mankind. Now, doubt seemed more blasphemous than the act of saving the world from God’s Armageddon.
He puffed his cigarette.
Until now, saving the world was necessary. Briefly, even exciting. Suddenly, even with everyone still alive, the world felt empty to him.
He pulled another lung full of smoke. Relax, he thought. It’s over. It’s all over now. God and His army have fallen at the hand of man.
There is no one left to fight.
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