THE FINAL CHAPTER
- Chapter 30 -
Everything happened so quickly. Really, they never stood a chance because hatred and cruelty can lead a person to do terrible things; things a person with a pure soul could never contemplate doing. Madonna had accepted the end result as it should be. She somehow knew it was probable for this Shadowland to be destroyed. Their Saviour was just not prepared enough. Something had to change.
Luckily, Madonna had the power to move between the Shadowlands. When the Adephi struck down and tore a seam in the destiny, Madonna wasted no time in abandonning her people and moving to the next and last Shadowland.
She looked at the scene from above. Michael, scrambling to get his troops in line to battle Angels. Jesus, concentrating all his efforts on healing those who have been corrupted too much. Madonna cried at the deaths of those who stood by good when evil was so tempting.
The events unfolded within a matter of minutes. The Adephi had won. Jesus lay against the rusted walls of the abandonned Mill, breathing in his last breath. Michael was stiff and blue resembling every other body that was strewn about the unkept lawn. Only Anna Simeon and the two Angels remained as smoke rose around them. Grins painted on their face.
Madonna could only feel regret. Regret for not training the Saviour herself, for not having changed the events, and for not saving one of the last Shadowlands left. Anger could easily express how she felt about the loss, but it was not nearly enough to describe how she felt towards her sister.
They had been born in the lap of luxury and still it wasn't enough. As Madonna sat in front of the globe, watching the war come to an end, she contemplated on what her next move would be; attempt to save save the last Shadowland or return home and prepare the battlefield for the likely war that was going to erupt between the Fallen One and The Almighty Source? Madonna could not decide.
When the last breath was taken, Madonna grabbed the globe and threw it against the wall. It erupted in glass and whisps of gray smoke billowed out. She stepped out of her tent and her eyes had to adjust to the bright landscape of the desert.
Martin was standing beside the tent, ready for his commander to give him orders. Madonna smiled at Martin.
"Bring me the boy. His training starts now."
"But, Jesus isn't ready. He's still so young, Madonna. Surely you can't expect him to lead a battallion." Martin answered.
Madonna looked out to the horizon and decided on her next move. She would try and save this last hope. The only shadow left of the Birthplace.
"We have no other choice. They're coming."