It was astounding, when it all came together. No-one in Heaven saw it
coming, except for one, who was mostly wrong. And only two people in Hell
had. Well, that's wrong. Millions of people in Hell had seen it coming. If
you widened the definition of "people" somewhat.
It started on the Savannah, of all places. (Actually it started in Hell five hundred years beforehand, in a hidden Principality that very few of the Royalty in the place knew about. But we'll say it started in Heaven.) Very quietly, the Servants of the Apocalypse snuck in. Jordi noticed, of course, but then he was the one who told the Enemy how to shield itself from the Light of Heaven in the first place. The numbers milled around the vast plain for months without anyone commenting (although one or two people did point, at one stage). Then, when all was in place, they struck, savagely and without warning.
Novalis was the first to be lost, stripped of all her Forces in a flurry of murderous mastication. Even as the Archangels death cry was echoing in Heaven, and Jordi was still saying "Oops.", the walls were breached by the invaders, more sneaking in from the Marches every second. The Host never stood a chance.
They might have, of course, if they'd actually responded in time, but the plan was crafted with a skill unseen by either side in *any* past conflicts. Michael was reported to have just stood gawking in amazement while the Horde approached. Yves, standing slightly behind him, flipped through his tome in a panic, yelling "That's not supposed to happen!"
It didn't really take long at all.
The few demons that had marched with the destroying army were later heard to tell tale of souls fleeing before complete destruction, of angels diving into the Horde only to be dragged down and crushed underfoot. Laurence made a valiant stand, but he lost his drive when he saw them pushing over Blandine's Tower. After that the sheer weight of numbers dragged him down. Jordi was jumped while still in shock from realising what he'd done. It took a while, but he was chewed up in the end, along with the rest of them. His last sight was of the horde (awkwardly) dragging themselves up Jacobs Ladder, and the screams filtering down from above.
The Princes were as shocked by the Archangels, truth be told. They had gathered near the Granite Throne to try to work out what was going on, and had just be wondering where Kobal had gotten to when the penny dropped. They'd been wrong all along. Even the Lightbringer had been wrong. It wasn't about the humans at all. As Baal's jaw hit the floor, Furfur screamed, pointing out the window.
"Cow!" the Prince of Hardcore screeched, "COW!"
In the short few minutes they had left, all the Princes learned something. Asmodeus learned that some Games you just can't win. Haagenti learned that some beings will eat things even he won't. Like him. Kronos learned that he'd been keeping track of the wrong Destinies all this time. Belial learned that sometimes it isn't too bright to try to resonate on the most powerful Prince in Hell, and blew himself up with the backlash. Vapula learned that it had been a mistake to trade off all his Doomsday cattle prods for that natty new leather lab coat. And so on.
Eventually, Ronald sat alone on the Celestial plane, with his herd. His forces on Earth were joyous from the news that had filtered down to them. They had some clover to celebrate. In Hell, the bonemeal which had been Kobal was distributed to those who had distinguished themselves in the fighting. Poor sod had made the mistake of *telling* the Demon Prince of Cows when he finally figured out the joke. He had been congratulating him, sure, but still ... he knew too much. There were a few things left to do in Heaven and Hell, but not much. He'd have to figure out wht to do with Lucifer one of these days, but for the moment the trampled ex-Lord of Hell was still only cursing, surrounded by six hundred and sixty six of the most powerful sorcerers who ever lived, who mooed their spells quietly into the still air. David was still wandering around Heaven as well, insulting the parentage of the heffers that were follwing him, but not actually touching him. "Stupid dissonance", thought Roland as he worked on the final stages of his plan. The most important stage. The eradication of the human race.
Tomorrow, it's going to be an Apocalypse ... Cow!
(For those few of you who are completely lost, go have a look at Moe's Ronald.)
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