When The End comes for real, it’s just as Crowley supposed, with Heaven and Hell united against humanity. There are a lot of people who don’t believe what’s happening, but about half earth’s inhabitants do. And they show up for the fight.
The army humans have guns, there are doctors wielding baseball bats and taxi drivers with tire irons. Masses of youths are forming up with nothing but broken bottles and spite to defend themselves with.
Lucifer scoffs at them, his beauty already luring some people from their posts.
Not too many of them, though. Aziraphale has to believe that…
There may be millions of angels and demons among the ranks, united for a common goal, but there are billions of humans.
Crowley and Aziraphale are in the thick of it, of course. Of course. Aziraphale has come into the possession of his flaming sword again, through a series of events that Crowley really doesn’t want to think too hard about.
They stare down the Morning Star across the open expanse of the soon to be battlefield, humanity behind them, as much of it sheltered beneath their wings as they can manage.
And then the Heavenly forces begin to sing.
ginyia