People called him Zee, and he had been on Earth, on and off, for the last few hundred years. He had seen the world through its Renaissances, its Industrial Revolutions, and both its World Wars. And now, as he sat on the moutain above the city's highrises, he found that his opinion of mankind had moved little from where it had begun. He understood them better of course, but all in all, man was still man, and he was just as pathetic, dependant, self-absorbed and stupid as Zayde had expected he would be.
He took another long, slow drag on his cigerette and savoured the rush of nicotine along his nerves. His eyes were lost in the see of grey and green and red of the dying autumn landscape below him, his mind swimming with a thousand thoughts.
He thought about Hell, his home, about his mentor, and his friends. The world, in the end, was not so different from Hell. People still behaved the same ways. They never learnt. The only place that was any different was Heaven.
A ripple of memory shook him to the core. Heaven.
But those ripples that were all that were left to him now, and Heaven was just a word. A foreign concept which meant 'Something other than Hell' in his mind, and little more. Tie's quest seemed ludicrous to him. He knew it would fail, he knew it was just a matter of time. But damn it, he wanted Tie to suceed. He wanted him to break down the Gates of Heaven. Because if he did, and if he found himself a place up there once more, then maybe Zayde could too . . .
One of the better photos in the 'Angels' sequence. A real nice pic of my little bro here. Thanks again peeps.