25 Chapter 23

Gravel crunched beneath my feet as I crossed the unmaintained road towards the door of the refurbished colonial manor. Above me, a neon sign flickered, half the letter's unresponsive and dull.

Two Rivers Hotel And Casino.

The I in the casino had even fallen off at some point and the whole place gave this feeling of age, battered by the ravages of time, yet somehow holding onto its regal beauty and class, bearing its fate with a subtle but noticeable dignity.

It reminded me of my grandfather's old ranch.

I smiled as I walked in through the door and took in the insides too. The furniture was positively victorian, plush and embroidered with those garish yet tasteful patterns so common in the 1900s. It had the smell often found in the homes of old people, the scent of stuff that had soaked in the flow of the times, made faint by regular cleaning but present nonetheless. And covering it, the faintest whiff of books, new and old, fresh printed and withered.

The man at the reception seemed surprised to see me. He was a native american man that personified drab to a T, dressed in a plain, teal suit, that had seen better times, quite like the hotel itself in fact. Watching me walk in, he almost raised an eyebrow on his stoic stuck-up mask of a face but held himself back in time.

"A room please." I slid him my ID and he nodded, producing a ledger from a drawer behind him.

"Thank you." I smiled and put in my fake name, noting the last entry. It was in 2006.

Current year was 2011.

I almost snorted with laughter.

I mean seriously?

If you're trying to hide yourself, at least pay attention to the details. Such a big hotel, in a remote place like this, with no customers, somehow making it work and not going immediately bankrupt?

It was suspicious as all hell!

I shook my head as the man looked at me with a questioning look.

"Nothing."

Maybe I was looking at him from the point of view of an economist when clearly, the hotel was sustained via heavy magic. I felt it even as I walked into the place. It was warded up the ass, against every possible creature and spell, to the point of redundancy.

There was paranoid and then there was this.

I'm surprised the guy in 2006 even found the place with how many spells here turn unwanted eyes away. Only those who came here with deep, needful purpose were allowed to find it. Lost souls, stranded travelers, injured hikers who chose this part of Colorado for some godforsaken reason to die in. And of course, at one time, the Winchesters.

I was here a few years in advance however, ready to reap the benefits they would never even consider in a million years.

I wrote my name in the ledger and closed the book, sliding it back to the man in the teal suit.

Silently, he checked the entry, then stuffed the dusty old ledger back in the drawer and placed a key on the counter.

"Thank you." I swiped it and tapped the counter, "Just one more thing before I go. I have a message for our friend in 306."

I saw the man's eyes narrow as he reached below the counter and I grinned, wagging a finger.

My magic circuits flared and the gun flew out of his hands and clattered to the floor, much to his shock.

He looked between me and the gun with a worried look as I calmly walked over to a nearby couch and sat down comfortably.

PK, do the thing.

[On it!]

Immediately, the ring flashed with a Kaleidoscopic swirl of magic and a bounded field sprang up around me, covering the entire lobby. It wasn't just any bounded field either. Pulling on the Kaleidoscope's power to overlap worlds and the conceptual nature of the bounded field to be an isolated world, I created a space in the lobby which followed the time stream of a different world altogether, that of Game Of Thrones. This way, no time manipulation shenanigans could affect me; an extra layer of protection in case my new friend got a bit....feisty.

I turned to the receptionist again and made a finger gun.

"Tell him to get his ass down here in ten seconds or I blow his location live of angel radio." I tapped my watch and continued, "And your time starts...now."

A look of panic flashed across the man's face as he made to run but before he could do anything, space shifted before me, like a blanket unfolding and a portly man in a comfy looking cardigan appeared, pointing a gun to my face.

"Who are you?" He asked, trying in vain to sound authoritative.

I raised an eyebrow and snorted in amusement.

A gun?

A gun?!

Is he.... Did I over prepare? Is he dumb or am I?

[You both are.] PK sniggered.

"Really? A gun?" I couldn't help it. I had to ask. It was just so bizarre and stupidly funny.

"Metatron, Scribe of God, my dude. You are an angel. You could burn my eyes out, smite me with divine tribulation, make the plagues crawl a marathon through my veins, make my heart explode in my chest with a thought and you use a gun to threaten me? A gun?" I laughed, catching him off guard, "I mean, I prepared against time manipulation, in case you stopped time to scry my memories or something. But this.....hehehehahaha." He looked both confused and mildly offended at my laughter, "I'm sorry, I don't...heheh... don't mean to offend, but I must ask. What is the logic in... that?" I gestured at the situation.

But he kept his eyes fixated on my every move, unamused.

"I asked first."

"If that's how we're going, you'll have to answer mine too."

"You go first." He gestured with the hunting rifle.

"Very well." I reached into my pockets, and pulled out a card.

"Ardwyll Heathschilde Ymirsson. Multiversal Merchant Magus." I put down a folder on the table and patted it with a car salesman smile, "And I have here an offer you cannot refuse."

"No, soliciting, thank you." He waved his hand, shooing me away but his powers didn't work quite as well in my bounded field. This was my world and he was a prisoner within. Sure, it wasn't hard to break free but a gesture as casual as that wasn't about to affect me.

"Not so fast!" I wagged my finger, and he glared at me, "You haven't answered my question yet!"

"What?"

"Why not- Goodness, Metatron, put down the stupid gun. It can't harm me and it's annoying." I said, rolling my eyes and pushed the barrel away. Metatron scoured my face for a moment, skeptic, before he complied.

"Thank you. Now it's your turn to answer. Why not just stop time?" I asked, genuinely curious.

I wanted to know. Did I waste half a week prepping a useless spell or was this a different situation altogether?

"And reveal my existence to every angel across the universe?" He replied.

Oho~

So my theory was correct. The angels of Supernatural can't actually stop time. If they could, they'd be too overpowered to be killed by normal humans, or really anyone at all.

Stopping time is basically the 'Fuck You, I Win' move in almost all situations. That and time travel are just so overpowered as abilities, it's a wonder Heaven ever let Hell's demons gain any influence at all on Earth, especially when they were still under Michael's command.

Apparently, they can't. It is as I suspected then. Time manipulation isn't a power the angels have, it's a remote access service built into the world that they use to manipulate time and space, like a public wifi. And the moment he tries to stop time, it will stop everywhere in the universe, attracting everyone's attention. I can see why he chose not to.

"Doesn't explain why you chose the gun though?"

"That's two questions. I answered one. Now leave." He said as his eyes flickered a bit, a tinge of fear clear in them, "I don't want any trouble. So leave me out of it, whatever it is."

"You don't want it?" I asked with a cheeky grin.

"No. Get o-."

"Not even revenge? Against all the other angels that drove you from Heaven? Forced you to slum it up here, among mortals?" At that his ears perked up and his eyes flashed with desire.

And I grinned.

I knew I had my hooks in.