It was evening in the city, darkness had already seeped across the skyline, pooling shadows beneath dim, buzzing streetlights. A very young pizza delivery man stood silently in front of an average house with a long, cracked pavement driveway illuminated by motion detection lights. He was of average height, handsome, with striking facial features, holding six pizza boxes steadily in his hands, steam gently curling upward into the chilly air.
The front door swung open abruptly with a harsh creak, casting a sliver of sickly yellowish light onto the driveway. A shorter, bulky man stepped hurriedly out, wallet already gripped tightly in his hand, face etched with impatience and arrogance.
"Hey, pizza's here!" the shorter man announced loudly. "You know we ordered five, right? Hey, I'll take it, your mistake, here's cash for five—and a buck tip for being stupid," he laughed obnoxiously.
Without a word, the delivery man casually tossed the pizza boxes into the air. Boxes spun briefly before crashing down, pizzas tumbling chaotically and spilling sauce and greasy toppings onto the cracked driveway.
In disbelief and quickly rising rage, the shorter man holding his wallet exclaimed, "I'm gonna smash your teeth so hard, your fucking mother won't recognize you!"
"Maybe," the delivery man replied calmly, politely unfazed, "but my Father always will."
"Jesus fucking christ," the shorter man yelled, turning his head towards the inside of the house, "hey guys, come out here, this cocksucker just threw all of our Pizza on the ground!"
Several large, aggressive-looking men rushed out, dressed in track suits and sweatpants, cursing and growling as they assessed the mess.
“How you gonna fix this, pizza boy?” snapped the shorter man, voice shaking with agitation.
Suddenly, a voice sliced through the night air, resonating clearly and powerfully inside each of their minds:
Let the people in the basement go.
Instant panic flashed across their faces, confusion clouding their anger. The shorter man hastily drew a silenced gun, pointing it at the delivery man, hands trembling.
"What kind of games are you playing? Some new app or something?"
The voice echoed again, colder, unwavering:
Let the people in the basement go.
"Alright, fucknut, you're done," the shorter man snapped, firing repeatedly. Bullets pierced through the delivery man's body as though it were smoke, ricocheting off parked cars and a fence, sparking in bright metallic bursts. A very small amount, very few drops, of clear liquid dripped from the delivery man's clothes, faintly glowing as they touched the pavement.
Unfazed, the delivery man’s calm voice continued speaking directly into their minds. Yes, it didn't work on him either. However, I'm not Jesus— he made very slight air quotes, his voice calm and polite as ever. Time to be reborn.
Instantly, an invisible force erupted around them, violently lifting the shorter man and his companions high into the air. Their bodies twisted briefly, expressions locked in momentary shock, before they slammed forcefully down onto the pavement with a thunderous impact. They lay still immediately, lifeless and unfeeling, their eyes empty yet oddly serene. Their weapons skittered silently across the driveway, broken into harmless fragments of metal and plastic.
In the immediate, deafening silence that followed, the delivery man reached inside his jacket and vanished, his clothing gently drifting onto the ground. He glided silently away, nearly floating.
Another voice whispered politely, quietly in his head, "How was your first mission?"
The delivery man's own thoughts replied calmly, quietly resolute:
Is this all we can do for humans? Can't we help with conflicts, like in Palestine and in Ukraine?
The voice answered patiently:
Humans can't change. We can only give them a little more order for the brief decades they have left.
Sirens wailed closer, louder, police vehicles rushing onto the scene. Officers poured out, guns drawn, eyes widening at the surreal horror littering the driveway. Flooding into the house, flashlights quickly revealed frightened young faces, even children, bound, gagged, and clearly suffering. Most were pale, malnourished, and terrified—many had been reported missing within the last three weeks. They blinked painfully against the sudden, harsh brightness, hope cautiously flickering in their eyes as the reality of their rescue dawned.
