-Mike-

Mike opened his eyes, finding himself somewhere familiar. He was bound to a cross once again; back in the cell they started in. However, the door was opened this time and he could see footsteps leading outward, the same footsteps left by him and Michael when they first exited the cell. Beneath his dangling feet and dripping from the cross, Mike spotted that orange, ooze-like blood from when they'd broken free the first time around.

"This place again?" he whispered. To say the least, he was completely dumbfounded. It was as if the previous events had still occurred, yet his body was thrown back in time to the moment he'd first regained consciousness. He thought about how the situation was flipped this time around as he was the one in control of the body upon waking up. He realized then that he hadn't heard Michael's voice, and for a moment, he felt joy.

“Please tell me you’re dead at least.”

There was nothing but silence for a moment, silence that Mike had been craving for so long. The ends of his lips curled upward and he let out a sigh of relief, "Thank God." he whispered as his body fell into a relaxed state.

AAAAAAH!

Michael yelled from the inside of their collective mind, startling Mike so hard that he tugged on the nails pinning him to the cross, drawing blood.

-Michael-

Michael, who was then in control of the body, started laughing as he hung from the cross. “Gotcha!”

You think this is funny? YOU got us killed.

Michael continued to laugh until an unfamiliar, feminine voice could be heard beside him. “Um… Excuse me.”

His eyes searched the room, then locked onto a young woman who looked to be around the age of a college student. She was wearing business attire, a white suit jacket with a white skirt and matching high heels. Her hair was brown, reaching halfway down her back, and she wore rectangular glasses that were nearly slipping off of her nose before she pressed them upward. By the way she was standing, she seemed shy or perhaps even guilty about something. She avoided eye contact with Michael, looking down at her two fingers that she pressed together nervously.

Hello.

“Hello.”

Both Michael and Mike were instantly entranced. For once, the two of them were on the same page without saying a word. This mysterious woman was otherworldly and her skin had an almost ethereal glow to it. They both agreed silently that she was the most beautiful woman they'd ever seen.

“Are you Michael Ray Thompson?” she asked nervously.

“Why, yes I am.” Michael said with a smile before speaking in a more flirtatious tone. “And just who might you be?”

You really are shameless, you know that?

“Have you possibly met the other Michael Ray Thompson by any chance?” She began pressing her fingers together even faster as she spoke and the guilt on her face was made all the more obvious as her skin began turning pink.

“Yes… How do you know about that?”

The young woman buried her face into her hands. “Oh dear… It’s just as I feared!” She shook her head left and right while she ran in place. "I'm so gonna get fired. I'm ruined!"

What's this chick's deal?

“Uhm... Miss... Are you okay?" Michael asked. The woman immediately remembered where she was and hid her hands behind her back.

“I’M SO SORRY!” The young woman apologized, bowing her head and staring straight down at her feet. She couldn't even look at Michael, not after what she'd done to him.

“I’m so confused. Who exactly are you and why are you sorry?”

The woman stood up straight, moved the hair away from her eyes, and pressed up her glasses. “My name is Petronilla…I’m the daughter of Saint Peter. You can refer to me as Petra if you'd like, Petronilla is a bit of a tongue twister. You see, I’m in charge of making sure souls go where they’re supposed to when they die…”

As Petra spoke, she reimagined the events that took place, leading to the conundrum that the two Michaels found themselves in. “I was sitting at my desk, clicking and dragging souls toward their respective destinations. However, as I was working, I noticed something odd. I thought it was a glitch at first. 'Michael Ray Thompson, time of death: Three o’clock Pacific Standard Time.' That on its own isn’t weird, but there was a duplicate one right beneath it. So… I highlighted both and dragged them to Hell thinking it was the same person.

Later that day, as I was taking attendance for the tour for new entrants to Heaven. I noticed that name again on the roster. 'Michael Ray Thompson.' I did some digging and I found out that two people with the exact same name died at the exact same time. It wasn’t a glitch at all, it was a crazy coincidence. I told God, my boss, and he said until I get the right Michael Ray Thompson back where he belongs, I will remain on leave! Today was my first day and I’m already practically fired!"

“Wait… You’re telling me… You guys have computers in Heaven? And jobs?” Michael wasn't sure exactly how heaven worked. He pictured it as a garden where angels held hands and frolicked around. However, the way she described it, it just sounded like Earth 2.0.

That’s your first question!?

“Well… yes. Every member of Heaven has their own role in the community. When it comes to technology, once humans invent something, Heaven is allowed to access it. The iPhone is especially popular. Oh! And the Design Team really appreciates the digital art equipment that you guys invented.”

“Design Team?” Michael repeated.

“Yeah, the ones who design the life forms placed on Earth. They don’t do much work these days since God is really picky when it comes to introducing new animals, but they do make a lot of new designs for fun. My favorite one was a type of shark that could walk on land, reaching speeds of up to fifty miles per hour. God rejected it..."

Michael stared at Petra blankly, his mouth slightly ajar. “Why would anyone come up with that?"

“It was cute.” Realizing she was getting off track, Petra stiffened her body. “Oh! Sorry, I got distracted. Uhm… I’m on the Judgement Team. The Data Team sends us the files of those who’ve died and decide whether or not they’re allowed to go to Heaven or not. When I saw the other Michael’s file, I immediately sent that guy to Hell. Did you know he’s killed twenty-seven people?”

“What! I thought you said eleven!?” Michael asked Mike, compelling Petra to tilt her head curiously.

Sixteen of those were while I served in the Marines. I didn't even know those types of kills counted against you in Heaven.

"You were a Marine? No wonder you’re such a dickhead.”

Petra placed her hand on her chin, studying Michael as he talked to himself before raising her own question. “Excuse me, are you talking to the other Michael? You said he was here, but where exactly is he?”

“He and I share the same body now." Michael pointed to his head. "Only one of us can control it at a time while the other is a loud, annoying voice inside the body’s head.”

Petra covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, dear...this is worse than I could’ve imagined. This complicates things.”

“Well, now that you’re here, you can sort this all out, right?” Michael's fanged smile was beaming. He figured, since she was close with God, she could simply take him back to Heaven just like that.

“Mmm… Not quite. This is Lucifer’s realm. I have no power here; therefore, it's impossible for me to separate your souls from your shared form. I’m not even supposed to be here! But I do know how I can bring you back!”

Michael immediately had a bad feeling about where she was going with all of this. He remembered what Harut mentioned earlier about the top of Tartarus and immediately figured that it was the key to his freedom. “Is it Tartarus?”

“Yes! So you’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah, but we died trying to climb it.”

“Died? That can’t be right. You would’ve been sent down to the Inferno if that was the case.”

Michael's eyebrows furrowed. “The Inferno?”