"Lev! --It's going to mean 'heart' in human."

"Aww. That's cute."

"Hastur was like 'that's a terrible demon name, Lev.'"

"I like it. I'm not a demon, but."

"I wanted to name myself after a human word because humans are going to be the best thing."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. --I used to hang out in the place where they were designing humans, just looking at things. Did you know they have dreams? Dreams are cool."

"I did hear about dreams! Those do sound cool. The whole idea of telling stories to themselves while they sleep. I think I mostly want to see what they do with the world, you know? We can look up anything about what we did, but I have no idea what they're going to do with what we did."

"They're going to do such awesome stuff, I bet. Clothes! I would never in a million years have thought of clothes."

"Well, we'll have to wait and see what else they come up with."

"It's really exciting! --I will make sure to stop by and tell you since you're going to be, uh. Guarding the gate."

"Oh. Yeah. That sounds nice."

Six thousand years later--

Everyone was confused about how Hearts & Halos Bookshop stayed in business.

It had been on its particular London street corner as far back as anyone could remember. (The sign said Est. 1032, but presumably that was someone's idea of a joke.) So presumably it was making a profit.

But it was very unclear how.

Hearts & Halos Bookshop had, in a certain sense, plenty of customers. There were comfy armchairs to curl up in, and long tables for debating philosophy, and lots of little nooks for studying. The tea was always hot and the homemade cookies were heavenly. The female owner always knew how to recommend a book that uplifted you or said something about whatever you were struggling with or gave the perfect piece of advice. The male owner could explain whatever homework problem you were stuck on so that you understood it, could suggest the perfect source for your essay, and gossiped about historical economists as if he had personally known them. While the opening hours were erratic, it was always open when you really needed it.

But the tea was free and the cookies were free. While the books technically had prices, you could get them for free for reasons such as "you don't have any money", "you really need it", "books are supposed to be read", "it belongs in a good home", "you would really enjoy it", and "I forgot where the cash register was."

The students of London often speculated about the true nature of the owners. Perhaps they were mobsters laundering money, but it was hard to imagine the female owner doing any crime worse than jaywalking, and while the male owner did technically wear sunglasses inside he also bounced excitedly about NBER papers. Perhaps they were eccentric billionaires, although none of the wealthier students had any idea who their families were. Perhaps they were spies and it was their cover story.

Kairiel was of the opinion that spending time in the bookshop was an entirely valid and responsible use of her time, since technically her job was to keep an eye on Lev, and Lev could hardly be doing very much evil while primarily concerned with the bookshop, now could he. She also did other things, like appearing to people who were about to commit suicide, or visiting people in nursing homes who were in danger of losing hope, or occasionally curing children of incurable diseases even though she kind of probably wasn't supposed to do that as much as she did because probably 'they were just so small' was not, like, a very good reason in the grand scheme of things.

But she does spend a lot of time at the bookshop. At the moment she is very carefully shelving new science fiction novels.

Lev bursts in through the front door.

Normally, this is when he starts arguing with her about whether they can just do a miracle to put the new science fiction books on the shelves, and the fact that he does not immediately do this is the surest sign that something is really really wrong.

"What's up?"

"...The world is ending."

" - like the world is really ending, or like someone said the world is ending, because the humans say that practically once a decade now - "

"Got a call from downstairs. They want me to give the Antichrist to the American Cultural Attache."

"Oh. Well. Oh."

"We have eleven years."

"That's not very many years. I guess there are smaller numbers of years. But not many. At least if you limit yourself to integers. - Do you know exactly what happens when the eleven years are up - "

"The Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse ride, the seas turn to blood, the Antichrist destroys the entire Earth, there's the final battle between Heaven and Hell, my side wins or your side wins and either way Earth is a cinder. --There might be nukes. I hear nukes are very popular these days."

"Wow."

She pats the bookshelf like it's a small fuzzy animal.

"I guess we're not gonna be able to commemorate a thousand years of running this place. Not quite."

"I was going to throw such a giant party. Confuse all the grad students."