Everyone teleported onto the mountainside in a flash of golden light and sulfurous smoke.
Cold air rushed in immediately—sharp, thin, and biting—carrying the scent of pine, stone, and distant snow. The sudden quiet was jarring after the chaos of Hell. Far below, the forest stretched endlessly, dark green waves rolling toward the horizon like an untouched painting.
The old man stood near the edge, bundled in a heavy coat, staring out at the view with tired, hollow eyes. The Cherubs hovered around him in a frantic halo of optimism, wings fluttering too fast, smiles stretched too wide.
"Life is a gift!" Cletus declared, spreading his tiny wings wide as if that alone would make it true.
"You just gotta appreciate the little things!" Keenie added, gesturing wildly toward the mountains.
"Nature's beauty! Fresh air! God's creation!" Collin chimed in softly, voice trembling with rehearsed sincerity.
Blitzø leaned toward Max, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Hey, think you can, uh… help convince him the other way?" He finished with a wink.
Max watched the scene for a moment, unimpressed. "I still don't get why you don't just shoot him," he muttered flatly. Then he shrugged. "But sure. Messing with angels is always worth my time."
He glanced toward the tree line, ears flicking. "Just… watch out for the animals."
Before anyone could ask what that meant, Max dissolved into black smoke, melting into the shadows of the forest as if he'd never been there at all.
The mountainside felt different away from the group. The wind howled stronger here, pulling inward toward a narrow valley like the world itself was inhaling. Max stepped out of the smoke, boots crunching against frost-bitten soil, eyes scanning the terrain with careful intent.
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's not kill anyone we don't have to."
He crouched and pressed two fingers to the ground. A faint circle etched itself into the dirt—not flashy, not dramatic. Just enough to nudge probability.
A spark caught.
The fire started small. A whisper of flame licking at dry brush. Then the wind took it.
Within seconds, smoke rose through the trees. Animals bolted—deer crashing through undergrowth, birds screaming into the sky. The fire spread unnaturally fast, not infernal, not overtly magical… just wrong enough to feel inevitable.
Back on the cliffside, the old man turned sharply.
"Is… is that a wildfire?" he asked, panic creeping into his voice as smoke curled into the sky behind them.
The Cherubs froze.
"Oh—uh—nature's cycle?" Cletus tried weakly.
"Controlled burns are healthy?" Keenie added, already sounding unsure.
Sirens wailed faintly in the distance. The smoke thickened, blotting out the horizon.
From the shadows, Max watched silently. "Despair doesn't need blood," he said under his breath. "Just inevitability."
Before things could spiral further, golden light flared violently.
"Oh! Let's, uh—let's change locations!" Cletus shouted, panic finally breaking through his cheer.
They vanished.
They reappeared in a brightly lit children's shopping mall.
Color exploded everywhere—balloons, oversized mascots, glittering storefronts, shelves packed with toys. Children laughed and ran between stores while parents stared at phones, oblivious. Cheerful music blared overhead, too loud, too happy.
The Cherubs perked up immediately.
"See?" Keenie said smugly. "Joy! Innocence! Hope!"
Max materialized near a pillar, arms crossed. His jaw tightened.
He didn't like this.
Blitzø whispered, "You got anything for this one?"
Max exhaled slowly. "Not my favorite setting," he admitted. "But… I can work with it."
He walked toward a toy store display—bright, shiny, absurdly expensive. With a subtle flex of power, he nudged something loose from his shadow.
A single toy slid across the floor and stopped dead in the center of the mall.
It was perfect. Sleek. Limited edition. Something no kid there could realistically have.
The effect was instant.
"That's mine!"
"No, I saw it first!"
"Give it back!"
Children swarmed. Shoving. Crying. One kid swung first. Parents reacted too late as chaos erupted in seconds.
Max immediately dampened the aura before it escalated further, his stomach twisting. "Enough," he muttered, pulling the influence back before anyone was seriously hurt.
The old man stared, shaken. "Even kids… even kids can be awful…"
The Cherubs scrambled, voices overlapping in panic.
"No no no—this isn't supposed to—"
"Children are good! Usually!"
"This is circumstantial!"
Golden light flared again.
"Next location!" Cletus yelled, voice cracking.
They reappeared inside an opera house.
Velvet curtains, chandeliers, polished marble floors. The music swelled beautifully as a soprano poured her soul into the stage. The Cherubs floated proudly, confident once more.
"Art," Cletus declared. "Pure expression!"
"Music uplifts the soul!" Keenie added.
Max stared at the stage, unimpressed. "Yeah," he muttered. "This always confused me."
Blitzø and the Cherubs started arguing again, insults flying. Weapons were drawn. A holy arrow whizzed past and struck Max in the shoulder.
He hissed, actually feeling it. He snapped the arrow in half and pulled it free, blood sizzling faintly.
"Angel-grade steel," he muttered. "That's dumb. They can just make these?"
The fight escalated. Someone fired wildly. A rope snapped. The chandelier swung.
The piano crashed down.
The old man never saw it coming.
Silence followed.
The Cherubs screamed as they tried to go back to heaven but was banned.
"Welp," Blitzø said brightly. "Job completed."
Max dusted off his coat, stepping back into shadow. "Angels," he muttered. "Always think they're above consequences."
The portal opened. Hell waited.