I sat down near the altar, tears running down my cheeks and falling onto the ground. My body shook with sobs as I clasped my hands together.

"Please answer..." I whispered to myself, looking upwards.

I got no reply still, so I stood up, walking out of the church, attempting to stop my tears. This was the seventh time I've tried today. Yet nothing came to me. Not a word of encouragement, faith, or hope.

The world I now walked through was a wasteland of life. There was something here, yet it was really nothing. Nothing to me, that is. The humans' houses were jailhouses of pain and sin, their artificial landscapes swaying in the poisoned air.

What have they done?

Many stories of Apocalypse have since formed, depicting the violent end of the world and all life on Earth. I would discuss these tales with God, and we would try to stop it as long as the humans would be cooperative. And now they really weren't. They've denied our existence, giving up.

I suppose I shouldn't give up, though, because nothing really is something I can work with. I have before, at least. But the humans are now refusing to repent, living on in their spoiled lives, forgetting what will happen in their own demise.

But I've got to find my Leader before I can start destroying this evil, or I will ultimately fail and break the humans' faith more. Perhaps I'll try to find Him again...the eighth try this round.

The End

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