Fleur appeared within that sphere, brighter and more aware than the assembled crowd. It was she. The dark-skinned woman of exquisite charm. Fleur in pure energy.

— Rose! Rose of the Winds!… Why disturb the peace of paradise? Why deceive me? Why trick me, abduct me, seize me, and imprison me in your hell with a voodoo doll? You told me that you felt remorse for everything you had done. I trusted you. Yet you knew that I cannot react when I take on a form I have just created, and that, despite the passion that carries me during creation, such an act exhausts me. Fortunately, the unconditional love of these two beings awakened me from my stupor, from my hypnosis, from the absence of mind into which you had plunged me!

The black woman fell silent for a moment, as though she wished to leave Rose des Vents alone with his thoughts. All the demons who had been transformed into tailless angels stared in amazement.

Almost the entire crowd was wondering. Every one of them, without exception—whether Potato Peels, his wife, the new angels, or the former demons. Only two creatures knew who the woman truly was: Rose des Vents and, in a way... Uncle Maxime. Even Henri did not know, unlike Marilyn, who had guessed the identity of this dark-skinned being.

— Tell me, Marilyn, do you understand any of this?

— Oh yes, I do! I was jealous of God. God is this woman, Henri! Can you believe it?

— Good heavens, if I hadn’t loved you, I might have made love to God. Fortunately, no one took advantage of her!

God-Fleur continued her sermon to Rose des Vents. It was high time, for everyone was hanging on her every word.

More than noble, God even kept her form and her color.

— In just a few days, you have done more harm than since the beginning of time. Do not try to flee. Do not lay a hand on that body you have lost sight of. You have seen that I have regained control of my will. I am going to prove it to you this very moment.

As she spoke, God made a broad gesture, as though drawing a great circle in the air. Then she paused and waited.

— And so, we are still waiting! Rose remarked, more sarcastic and brazen than ever.

And Fleur went on:

— What you believe is not necessarily what you see, Rose des Vents. Yet I have restored all the books in the library at the entrance to paradise to their proper order. I have put all the leaves of the tree back in place. So that people may once again return to eternity and tell one another nonsense about Earth in order to make money. I have also removed the nightmares from those whom you tormented with my computer. And I have repaired and corrected the damage you caused to my works. I have also done something else: I have called back your body, which should appear shortly. But above all, I want to deal with you.

— Then I must be going! If some of them show up in hell and I am not there, I may disappoint them.

— That will not be necessary. I shall replace you!

— But you can’t. I am the devil.

— Perhaps. But I am God. (A divine reflection.) So be it! But you must promise to undergo therapy, to say prayers, and to keep a reasonable personal journal. You must confide in someone. Do you understand, Rose?

— I don’t know. I’ll speak to a few therapists…

— Very well, then! That is already an improvement. You will begin your sessions tomorrow with Freud and Jung.

— Freud?… I don’t have sex!... Jung? I don’t dream!

— Very well, I shall give you the power to dream. By saying that, you have just made me realize why you are unlike the others. I had not endowed you with a subconscious, so that you might always remain in contact with me. As for sex, in your case, I would rather make you wait a little longer. I shall give you one when you are more balanced. Then I may create a companion solely for you, said God, weighing each word.

— All for me alone! But my head would need to be put back on my body, and I don’t know where my body is. If I find it and complete my double therapy properly... You... me... a companion to my taste? Could she be very hairy?

— Why not? But she will differ in temperament, because at present you are expressing desires that correspond to your current state. Since you are likely to change, your tastes may change as well. Very well! Off you go now! Here comes your body! You can sense it from miles away.

Fleur-God continued:

— And that is not all. Expect, Rose, to receive many visitors who will merely pass through your domain. Tourists from Earth and from other planets. I have decided to stop guiding beings blindly from every place. They will no longer have to suffer from the threats and archaic descriptions of hell—or of any other accursed place. The overactive imaginations of certain spiritual guides have described such places as necessary.

I have never wanted to disappoint any being, and I never shall.

But religions will have to evolve in another way. Therefore, I shall give all living beings, without exception, the power to travel from life to death, and from death to life, without extinguishing themselves, as my little Earthlings say. The decisions made by souls will no longer be justified by the randomness of their encounters, nor by the path of their existence. They will be observed and truly protected from evil, since evil will no longer exist.

— May I say a word, God? Henri intervened, somewhat troubled by that brilliant and divine idea.

— So it shall be. Speak, Henri! replied “Fleur the Divine,” smiling at him.

— It’s just that Marilyn and I went down into hell to escape Rose des Vents and his soldiers, and we extinguished the weak flames of hell that still remained. Don’t you think that, if people visit hell, they may no longer know where good was and where evil was?

— I thank you for your compassion toward your kind. These visitors will enter hell as they would those abandoned prisons that are opened to the public. Quite simply. They will recall a certain history and then move on to something else. Rose des Vents, stripped of his powers, will serve as a humble guide.

— I’ll be able to sell Bengal lights and postcards! shouted Rose.

— I am happy that God finally takes the form of a woman! sang Marilyn. And above all, Fleur, that because of your beauty, you were not raped while searching for your soulmate!

— Now, if you will allow me, I am finally going to enjoy myself a little. It so happens that I too feel like having fun. In fact, I invite all of you—including those far from here, and those to whom I now send the same call by thought—to come next week to my opening... It will take place near my resting place.

— May I come too? Rose asked enthusiastically, his body carrying his head beneath its arm.

— We shall see what progress your treatment has made.

— While you are here, God, what are we to do about Marilyn Monroe and Henri Toutrec, also known as Pen Name? Potato Peels nearly blurted out.

God did not have time to reflect before Rose intervened, somewhat irritated:

— What! This weakling—is this the soul for whom I waited an entire day? Was he at the gates of paradise?! Minus Cule, where are you? Come here, I want to know why you said nothing to me about him! Come on, show yourself...

— Enough, Rose! Minus Cule no longer obeys you. He is like all your cronies: he became independent and was transformed into an angel... without a tail. Human, in short! said God authoritatively.

Then she turned to Potato Peels and addressed him:

— They love one another, do they not?

Potato Peels nodded with the desired sign of approval.

God then turned toward the couple, who were waiting for a divine answer, their hands clasped tightly together.

God looked at them for several moments, shifting her gaze from one to the other, not even bothering with the third eye.

That little trinket is for angels. At last, she addressed them.

— I now want to hear your answer. Do you love one another unconditionally?

Marilyn and Henri answered simultaneously, with one voice, to the woman-God:

— Yes!

— Then let their Lulum begin its eternal passage from one to the other and from the other to the one. Case closed!

A sphere appeared above Marilyn, taking on the colors of the rainbow one after another.

Then it appeared above her half-moon, Henri Toutrec, shortly afterward, and returned above Marilyn, and so on.

Marilyn and Henri threw themselves into each other’s arms and embraced tenderly, their eyes closed as though to feel one another more deeply.

They proved their joy to one another for so long that, when at last they released their embrace, everyone around them had already gone home—or elsewhere into the infinite.

Including Rose and God.