Ordinary World
By Jason Morgan


Chapter One: The Sign

“Man's greatness lies in his power of thought.”
- Blaise Pascal

Most of the time, Kylie found her life to be disinteresting, but satisfactory. She would never put much stock in the concept of ambition; rather had a strange tendency toward the mediocre. “Why strive to be so great,” Kylie argued, “when you really only have to do what it takes to make yourself happy?”

Some would consider Kylie lazy. While they would be correct, that was not the basis of her lifestyle choices. She felt no need to go to college; why should she? She already knew enough to get a job. Even though said job was a mere six dollars and fifty cents an hour selling video games and CDs, that’s all she really needed at age 19. She had a ten-year old used car, a room at her parent’s house, and a boyfriend that she thought would stay with her forever.

Then, of course, the car was totaled, the boyfriend vanished, and Kylie’s parents started hinting that she may be getting luggage for her next birthday.

The years rolled by, and not much changed.  Kylie went from retail job to retail job, and at one point worked 3 different jobs, simultaneously, in the same local shopping mall. After several more failed attempts at relationships, she became far more reclusive. When she was not at one of her jobs, she delved into the internet.  Instant messaging replaced phone calls, e-mail replaced dating, and really; who needs friends when you have Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games? Seven years after dropping out of college, Kylie had become a stereotype. Kylie was living in her parents’ basement, playing video games into the wee hours of the morning.

In short, something embedded itself in Kylie’s mind that caused her to simply stop caring. She certainly didn’t have a lack of willpower; it takes nerves of steel to work your Elven Lore-Hunter up to level 43 while carrying on seven different conversations over three different Instant Messaging programs. She had simply become disenfranchised with the outside world. Out there lay only disappointments and struggle. Her cable modem was a gateway to a wondrous place where she could be whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted, wherever she wanted. There were no limitations! Even cameras and microphones could not reveal her true self, thanks to PhotoShop and voice-alteration software.

Her parents tried the best they could, but nothing could break the girl’s enthrallment to the machine. Her computer desk was so overloaded with equipment that it began to creep its way over her dresser and onto her TV stand.  Eventually, her television was abandoned altogether; why watch TV? There is no interaction there! CDs became worthless; MP3 audio files did the same job and took up no space in the real world. If there was any possible option that would keep Kylie from having to leave her computer chair, that was the option that was taken.

Reality had become obsolete.

However, Kylie was not alone. All around the word, thousands of people became more attached to their electronic gateways. Fewer children were playing outside; more were playing in fictional worlds. Predators no longer stalked outside of playgrounds; they instead stalked IRC channels. “The Matrix has you,” some would joke… but the problem was becoming quite serious.

The problem was noticed by most humans, of course, but was not of large concern for them. The Internet was an invaluable tool. Perhaps the old way of life could finally be laid to rest, and this new medium of communication could pave the way to an upgraded version of society; an electronic global community.

However, that which the humans followed blindly was causing a certain Someone a great deal of discomfort. That Someone in question paced about Their chambers, mumbling to Themselves about just where They went wrong. They had to find a way to restore humanity’s love of the world, and soon. After thinking a long time (in Their own terms), Someone had come up with a plan.

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Baraqiel lounged languidly in her chamber, casually looking over various sectors of Earth. She was quite happy with the world, as it was; being the “Angel of Lightning”, it gave her great pleasure to see electricity put to so many versatile uses. She chuckled to herself as she focused on a group of people playing a first-person shooter online. “Every time you frag a noob, an angel gets its wings,” she said to herself in a sing-song voice.

Just as it seemed the red team was about to finally capture the flag, a very dour-looking angel materialized between her and her broadcast of the game.

“Ramiel,” Baraqiel whined, trying to stretch herself to look around her colleague, “I’m trying to watch something!”

Ramiel rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder at the high-tech armored soldiers shooting each other, and then back to Baraqiel. “You do realize, of course, that this is not what the Deity had in mind when They assigned us the title of ‘Watcher’, right?” he snidely asked.

With a huff, Baraqiel flapped her wings to fly above Ramiel, looking back down at the game. “I’m your commander, buddy! Now let me watch my game!”

“I’d love to, really,” Ramiel replied in a tone that could only mean he would not love to let Baraqiel have her way, “but They have summoned us.”

Baraqiel’s heart sunk at the same rate as she did back to her floor. “Oh, crap… not another mission, I hope?”

Ramiel shrugged, looking a bit more dour than usual at the prospect of what They may need assistance with. “I’m sure it won’t be anything… too distasteful,” he hoped aloud.

“Not that we have a choice,” sighed Baraqiel as her armor of faith materialized around her.  She checked her sword in its sheath before she folded her wings behind herself. “We’d best not keep Them waiting.”

The two of them made their way to the chamber of the Deity.

To a normal being, entering the chamber of the Deity would instill great awe, perhaps even fear. To them, the Deity is the creator of all creation, the God of Gods, and the absolute power in the entire universe. However, those who worked for the Deity knew better. The Deity was simply put in charge of the universe by some even higher, more unfathomable power. It stood to reason, then, that even the one that commanded the Deity would have a yet greater being to answer to, and so on; an infinite chain of command with the each tier of power becoming more unfathomable than the one below it.

Basically, to angels like Baraqiel and Ramiel, the Deity was nothing more than middle-management.

The chamber of the Deity was grand in size only; the massive hall was almost devoid of any decoration or furnishings. The one object that the Deity did take some allowance with, however, was the Throne of Ultimate Authority.  In ages past, the throne would take on whatever form was appropriate to the dominant race on Earth at the time. At first, it was nothing more than a notch carved into a mountainside. Later, it became crudely-crafted stone slabs. The Throne has been hieroglyphically adorned sandstone, wrought iron, bronze, silver and jewel-encrusted gold. In these days, the Throne of Ultimate Authority reflected the modern era’s opulence quite well – it had taken the form of an expensive leather massaging chair with multiple programmable settings and even a dock for one’s digital audio player of choice.

As the two angels knelt before the Throne of Ultimate Authority, the Deity simply nodded to them.  It put It’s Zune on the “pause” setting, removing the ear buds to regard the two “lesser beings.” Of all the inhabitants of the celestial halls, only the Deity chose to remain genderless. Some say it was so It could differentiate Itself from those It commanded; others claim it was just because It was too lazy to figure out the difference. As such, the Deity looked the traditional part of mythological androgynous beauty.  When the Deity spoke, it sounded as if every being on Earth were speaking at once in a chorus (without the deafening roar that would bring to the listener).

“Good of you two to arrive,” stated the Deity as It raised It’s hand, signaling for Baraqiel and Ramiel to stand once more.

“I could never refuse a summons from thee, oh mighty Deity,” replied Baraqiel as she raised her eyes to the Throne.

“Oh, cut the crap, Bara,” snipped the Deity, “you know I only call you here when there’s big problems that happen to be your fault.”

Ramiel cringed, but Baraqiel just chuckled, placing her hands on her hips. “Alright, so I guess I’ll default to my typical entry phrase; what did I do, this time?”

The Deity stood and walked a few steps aside of the Throne, waving It’s hand to display an illusionary diagram of the Earth. “In the beginning…”

“Don’t go there,” sighed Baraqiel, looking over the holographic globe with interest. The clouds and rotation were being displayed in real-time, and Baraqiel could even squint her eyes to make out various cities alight with activity.

“Right,” the Deity began, again, “humans were supposed to be a simple race. A group of animals that was unremarkable from the rest. We learned our lesson with the lizard kings and made some slight modifications for adaptability, but no more than we’d given to any other creature.

“That was about the time I was given this job, being as the Creator had moved on to other projects…”

“I remember,” Baraqiel sighed, growing impatient, “I was there. What is it with you and explanatory dialogue, anyway?”

“In short,” the Deity went on, heedless of Baraqiel’s chidings, “I appointed a group of angels to oversee the Earth closely; the Watchers.  You were among their commanders, Baraqiel.

“However, as I went on to tend to other Deity-specific duties, it seems you Watchers became a bit… close with the humans.”

Ramiel shifted uncomfortably, but Baraqiel just grinned. “It was fun.”

“The creation of the Nephilim is no laughing matter,” scolded the Deity, “we’re still having troubles with—oh, never mind, that’s not the point. While you Watchers were gallivanting about with the humans, you inadvertently caused them to develop an intellect unbecoming of the creatures of the Earth.  Even after I cancelled the Watcher program, this caused humanity to progress at an astounding rate. Eventually, these smallish, weak creatures became the dominant species on the planet. Even though this was not the vision of the world that the Creator, nor I, had in mind, I decided to let the course of events progress. It was a matter of observational curiosity, on my part.

“Though it seems mankind was greatly enamored by one particular encounter with one particular Watcher,” the Deity continued, now turning his full attention on Baraqiel, “and eventually, this fascination lead to studying how electricity could be useful to every day life on Earth.”

“You’re welcome,” beamed Baraqiel, flipping her hair.

“I’m not complimenting you!” snapped the Deity, “eventually, everything changed because of what you did! While simpler creatures can take the time to marvel at a rainbow or watch the clouds, the ‘information super highway’ is causing humans to become completely disinterested with the natural and supernatural aspects of the world we have created for them! Before the advent of electrical power, there were tales of dragons and ghosts and vampires and sorcerers…”

“Those tales still exist!” protested Baraqiel, “Haven’t you seen World of…”

“But they know that’s a game!  It’s fiction to them, now!  The humans don’t understand that the stuff of legends is really… it’s real…”

“Stuff?” added Ramiel, helpfully.

“Yes, thank you,” commented the Deity, before proceeding, “they’re not interested in real stuff, anymore! All the wonderful things we created for them have become unrealistic in the face of their scientific advancements.”

“So, okay, now that you’re done verbally masturbating,” groaned Baraqiel, “what do you want me to do about this? You’re obviously saying this is all my fault and I have to fix it.”

“Quite,” agreed the Deity, “you and Ramiel are to return to Earth.”

“Really?!” squeaked Baraqiel, excitedly, clapping her hands in delight, “oh, awesome! Are you bringing back the Watcher program?”

“No. You two are to inform a human that she is to be our new Prophet.”

“A prophet?” queried Baraqiel, “We haven’t had a prophet in a long, time… I mean, remember what happened about, oh… two thousand years ago?”

“With all due respect, Deity,” Ramiel politely interjected, before the Deity could get upset at Baraqiel’s snide remark, “what do I have to do with any of this?”

“As Baraqiel’s lieutenant,” stated the Deity, “she’d have made you come along, anyway.”

Ramiel looked to Baraqiel, who just chuckled and shrugged. “The Deity’s right, on that one.”

Defeated, Ramiel turned back to the Deity. “So, who have you chosen to be your Prophet of these dark times?”

The Deity pointed to the globe, which had paused in it’s display. To the human eye, it would look as if he were simply pointing to the eastern area of a landmass known as “North America,” but to the eyes of the angels they could see exactly where the Deity was indicating. In the country known as the United States… in the State of Maryland… in the city of Baltimore… and in an unremarkable suburban house’s basement sat Kylie Stephenson; the Prophet of the Modern Age.