Nephilim

Chapter 1 - The Apocalypse

It was the year 2100, and the gods were angry. They had all come together to discuss the fate of humanity, but it was merely a formality, because there was a general consensus that humans should be extinct.

Yahweh, the one humans called the god of the Old Testament, was particularly pissed off. He sat on his chair, made entirely of gold, and urged his fellow gods and goddesses to cause apocalypse to come down on Earth. There were many who agreed with him, and they nodded their heads in unison.

The godly council, as that reunion was called, was formed by all gods worshipped by humans, in the past, present and future. They lived in a dimension separate from Earth, where time didn’t actually exist. As the so-called downfall of humanity had become clearer, the desire to exterminate their own creations became stronger for most divine beings. The opinion expressed by Yahweh was simply a general assumption, and the only reason he got to speak his mind was because of his personality, which was as cruel and angry as in the Old Testament. He also liked being the centre of attention.

‘My fellow companions’, Yahweh started, ‘the time has come to make up our minds. I say humanity has reached a new level of cruelty, as the fourth world war approaches. I see many of you agree with me. Let us vote on how it should be done. I propose another cycle of seven plagues, starting with grasshoppers this time. Put your hands on your cores, and think about your answers. The most recurrent idea shall be executed’.

Each god had a core, which was a circular structure the size of an orange. It was something akin to their hearts. As they were beings of higher dimensions, they could communicate through telepathy, but used their cores when there were too many of them involved. It made things more organised.

Suddenly, one of the gods spoke up, and all of the others trembled in fear. His voice was cavernous and scary, and even the ill-tempered Yahweh fell off his chair. He was called Tupã, and was known as the voice of thunder.

None of the gods, however, could understand what Tupã was saying. He was a big, muscular fellow, and his appearance alone caused fear. Had the gods been less afraid of his tone, however, and had they been a bit more willing, they could have understood what the voice of thunder was trying to say. 

At times like these, his wife, Arasy, known as the mother of the sky and home to the Moon by some humans, always intervened with her good humour.

‘Come now Tupã, you know how scary you can be. Let me translate it for you’, said Arasy, laughing. ‘He thinks you are being unfair, Yahweh. If humanity is doomed it is mainly because of your children. OUR children have done nothing wrong, except, maybe, being courteous to your kind. They were explored and raped, time and time again. Why should they have to die? Besides… our children respect the planet. They only take what they need from Earth, none of that capitalism bullshit your kids invented’, Arasy said and, at the same time she looked beautiful and kind, she was nearly as scary as Tupã, when angered.

Other deities nodded their heads, agreeing with Arasy and Tupã. Yahweh was enraged, as he always was when someone contradicted him. He was about to say something, when someone else intervened:

‘They are right, dad. What’s with you and your horrible temper? That’s why mum did not want to marry you, and chose human dad, Joseph’. It was a dark skinned young man who said this, and he was sitting far away, hugging a beautiful woman who looked just like him. He was Jesus, and the woman was Mary.

‘Oh yes, you always go and make a huge fuss about everything. And what’s with the obsession with grasshoppers?’, said Mary.

Yahweh’s face started to turn red, though it was difficult to tell whether he was furious or embarrassed. He had always had a thing for Mary, but she refused him countless times after that night when Jesus was conceived. 

As things seemed to be going in an unexpected direction, another deity intervened. This time it was Athena, the goddess of wisdom, who brought up an unexpected suggestion:

‘I have to agree with them, Yahweh. You chose to punish your children instead of teaching them through love, and look at how they turned out. Tupã and Arasy are right when they say their children are victims, as are most of those who are not white on Earth. I say let’s give them another shot. If they still screw up then we blow everything up’.

The gods were in agreement, much to Yahweh’s dismay. They all put their hands on their cores and the same suggestion was made: Listen to Athena’s plan.

‘Very well. What’s your plan, Athena?’, said Yahweh, as he sighed.

‘The fallen angels. Remember them? They were part of your army of angelic creatures, but fell in love with human women and deserted you. You never forgave them, and kicked them out from heaven, Earth and even hell. I always felt it was a pity, because they were actually in love with those women and cared a great deal about their families. Free them. Let them go to their descendants and give them a kiss, that will awaken their angelic powers and we will put them in a tower, for training’, explained Athena.

‘And what good will that do? They were absurd creatures, those kids. Giants! And I killed a bunch of them because they were the fruit of disobedience’, replied Yahweh.

Both Mary and Jesus sighed. It seemed that, no matter how much time passed, Yahweh remained the same. Jesus reminded his mother, however, that ironically time did not pass where they were. So, it was only natural his father would not change.

‘They are our best shot, I think. What were they called again? Nef… Nefilem? Nefilam? Neflom?’, asked Arasy.

‘Nephilim!’, cried Jesus. ‘I always liked them’.

Tupã nodded in agreement, and looked at Yahweh with an angry face. The god of the Old Testament sighed once more, because he knew most of his fellow deities were in agreement with Arasy, Tupã and Athena. Even his own son never seemed to agree with him.

‘Very well. Let us bring in the fallen, first’, announced Yahweh.