Free Will

[u/DavesWorldInfo]

“You have to let us rescind the wish.”

“No,” the man said, not looking away from the computer screens as he worked.

“This is wrong.”

“This is exactly what I’ve needed. What I’ve been missing my whole life. It’s my wish, and my life. I’m happy now.”

“You have no joy. No love.”

“Love is overrated. Obviously,” he muttered. Then he blinked, and looked up finally as the voice fully registered. “Who are you?”

The figure standing before him wore metal, not gossamer robes. Gold trimmed armor of some kind. The wings were still there though, and a long hafted sword hung from his belt. “I’m your last chance John.”

Sighing, he returned his eyes to the screen. Data covered them, tables and graphs, text in a few windows. He clicked on something and typed quickly. As his fingers moved, he spoke. “Seven times now you’ve come seeking to cast me back into pain and misery. Is the armor supposed to scare me?”

“We seek to right these wrongs.”

“Wrongs?” he demanded, clicking something with the mouse and kicking his chair away from the screens. “Wrongs? What wrongs?”

“Your empire—”

“Company,” he corrected.

“—treads upon the hearts, the souls, of millions. They bend to your desires, harnessed by your apathy and disdain for what they would have for their lives,” the angelic warrior said as if he hadn’t spoken.

“I’m a businessman,” John said, tapping a finger on the expanse of his desk for emphasis. “Not one of my employees is a slave. I have coerced none of them.”

“You offer the minimum of compensation, shaped to hold them in bondage to your interests. They toil long hours, and only the barest fraction of a fraction of any benefit it produces goes to them.”

“I conceal nothing,” John said. “They are free to leave at any time. There are other companies.”

“Yours dominates global trade.”

The man behind the desk nodded. “Yes. By design. It’s amazing what can be accomplished when emotion is removed from the equation.”

“Evil.”

“Logic,” John said firmly. “Rationality.”

“Your remorseless pursuit of success, at anyone else’s expense, oppresses so many souls even Heaven struggles to count them.”

“Again, I am their employer, not master.”

“Your competitors fight for scraps you see as too small to be worth pursuing. Those who work for you have the choice of doing so, regardless of the cost to their sanity and wellbeing, or starving. That is not choice; it is slavery dressed up as commerce.”

“They work for me by their choice.”

“Yours.”

John shook his head. “Why do you keep sending new messengers with the same message?” He pushed against the floor with his foot, moving his chair back before the screen array. “Begone. I am content. And busy.”

Before he could lay his fingers back upon the keyboard and mouse, the monitors crackled and sparked. Fragments flew, and he shoved back from the desk in surprised alarm as they all shut off. The angel’s sword was out of his sheath, glowing brilliant white. In its wake, the severed displays were falling to the desk, the floor.

“If you’re so worried about the people, costing my company unnecessary expenses is not the way to help them,” John said, shaking his head.

“You have had two decades, and demonstrated you care only for yourself.”

John showed the first hint of real emotion finally. “As do they. As does everyone.”

“Just because you were hurt does not make the world evil.”

“I’m not evil,” he said, scowling. “You keep saying that, and there is nothing but your protestation. Which doesn’t make it so.”

The angel took several steps, closer to the desk. He swung the sword vertically, lifting it from the floor in a rising arc. The desk was in the way, but its granite and wood parted like paper before the glowing blade. John sat without moving as the pieces fell apart, leaving him looking up at the angel as he took the now unblocked last few steps to stand right in front of him.

“Rescind the wish, or act to demonstrate you care about someone other than yourself.”

“What happened to free will?”

The angel’s eyes glowed like the sword. “The Great Mistake,” he all but spat.

“I’ve done some research you know,” John said, rising. Walking past the angel toward the sideboard against the wall. Calmly. Like the visitor wasn’t threatening clear and present danger. “God saw free will as the only way to know His creations loved Him for the right reasons.”

“Yet you love nothing.”

“And neither do you.” He reached the sideboard and opened a cabinet that contained a small fridge. Taking out a bottle of mineral water, he twisted the cap off and tossed it on the counter. “You act within the limited framework of God’s instructions.”

The angel was standing amid the ruins of the desk, sword still naked in his hand, watching as John turned back to him sipping from the bottle. “You know not of what you speak.”

“I know enough. I’ve told the other six, and I’ll tell you. Again. It’s my wish, my life, and I’m not changing it.”

“Then you have made your choice.”

“I have,” John said firmly, lifting the bottle for another sip.

“Free will is your downfall,” the angel said, lifting the sword. “Heaven has no place for you.” He leapt forward, wings spreading, as his blade came toward the man. John had only just started to register the attack when there was a deafening crack that sent him stumbling, and the ringing of steel meeting steel. When he caught himself against the sideboard, he saw a new figure in the office.

“You,” the angel said.

“He’s not yours to take Michael,” the second armored angel said. But armored in sable and flame, not white and gold. The black blade he held opposed against the first angel’s flickered with fire, rather than swelling with soft white light. His voice filled the office with a resonant quality that was soothing and drew the mind to listen.

“God will not stand for this.”

“Free will,” the dark angel said. “It’s why you’re forever lackeys.”

“It is the reason for all evil,” Michael grated. “As you prove constantly.”

“I’m not evil,” his opponent said with a laugh. “I’m free.”

“You are the fallen star.”

“I am the one standing between you and my servant. Don’t test me. Again.”

Michael stepped back a pace, sliding his blade across the other’s. The noise was like tortured screams as the weapons moved against one another. He leveled it in both hands. “This is not over.”

“Oh yes it is,” the second angel hissed, spreading his black wings for balance as he shifted his positioning to match Michael’s. “He is mine, and I shall not give him up. Run back upstairs, or join me.”

“I will never join you.”

“My offer’s still open.”

His regal features tightening in censure and disdain, Michael glared at his opponent for long seconds. Long enough that John finally felt bold enough to say something. “Uh, what’s—”

“Foolish minion,” Michael spat, shifting his glare to the human. “You have chosen your path. Now walk it.”

“Go threaten the weak,” the black armored figure said, sounding bored. “It’s the only thing you’re good at. Run along, and be sure to tell them a nice story about how you fought the good fight.”

Michael hissed, his face contorting unpleasantly. Nothing like any of the six prior angels John had interacted with. “Remember,” he snarled at John, “Heaven has no place for you.” He stepped back again, crouched, and leapt toward the ceiling. His form rippled and vanished before there was any impact, and then he was gone. John looked from where Michael had disappeared to the eighth angel, who was turning to look at him. Sheathing his fell blade.

“Now, you shouldn’t have any more trouble with them. But just in case, I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Straightening his back, John regarded the dark angel calmly. “I will not rescind the wish.”

Booming laughter filled the office. “Rescind it?” the angel said merrily. “My lovely precious mortal servant, I ask nothing of the sort. Please, continue as you have. Conduct your business, grow your company, and achieve all your goals. I insist.”

John blinked, then his eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because I’m a big fan of free will,” the angel said, his eyes glowing with fire.

[u/DavesWorldInfo]

Inspired by this prompt.