God, once again in his Christian form, smiled at the scene on the monitor.
"You must be delighted to have been proven so right. This business of Hell on Earth isn't at all what I'd expected—and to have gotten another chance to redeem none less than Hell's second-in-command . . ." The recording angel leaned back from his keyboard and looked up at the Almighty.
"I'm happy for Agonostis and for Dayne. I always rejoice when my children find love, and when they triumph."
The angel chuckled. "I must say I was glad to see Jezerael get what she had coming." He looked up at God, expecting a smile, or some form of agreement. Instead, he was startled to see a tear roll down God's cheek and disappear into the luxuriant white beard. "You weren't amused?"
"No. I always hope, you see. . . . She did something good. I thought for a moment that the results of her actions might reach her—that she might feel once again the joy that comes from kindness. I always hope." The Almighty wiped at the tear, and the one that followed it. "Heaven is for you," God said gently, "and for them," as he pointed to the Earth spinning lazily below. "For me, there can be no Heaven until the last of my children is safely home."