Gabriel wouldn't- couldn't- accept that. With a rustle of wings, he entered the chamber himself, uncaring of the lack of courtesy, of the fact that Michael would likely be offended by his audacity, but audacity was what he was good at. He stood in the middle, staring up at the endlessness of it all. Like most things in Heaven, it could be whatever was most comfortable, but it was without its God, so it was cold, empty, like a tomb.

"Father!" Gabriel shouted, repeating the word over and over again, at first tearfully desperate like a child and then furious. "If you won't talk to anyone else, talk to me. What messages am I supposed to send to our family? What will we do?"

Michael's words weren't good enough. He hadn't gotten answers from God in a long time, so only answers from the Old Man, himself, would suffice.