The angel Rosemary waited above for the event.
Millions of years of preparation had gone into this Event, and countless lives had been given so that it would come to pass, and many more would be effected by the Event of the next few seconds. Despite all of the preparation that had been done, the outcome was by no means certain. For that was the nature of what the next few seconds would represent. Soon, even if for just a short period of time, all would be equal in power. The lowest ant would have the same power as the mightiest angel, but more importantly, God him-self would loose a great deal of power and his greatest nemesis would be able to look him in the eye.

That terror was nothing however to the fear Rosemary would feel if the next few seconds went awire the domination of the prince of darkness would be preferable to that option. For Rosemary her entire existence has been had been geared toward this approaching Event, and beyond it there could be nothing as great as the joy that she would feel at her victory. It was not truly her victory because she was now just a watcher, helpless in the Event of the next few second, unable to effect the course of what was going to happen any more then then she could rival the beauty of the Almight One.

She considered and revised all the preparation that she had made, and caught herself, it was too late now, and besides, even if she did find a way to effect the outcome of the coming Event, she would not.

Then the moment arrived

From out of the place that had been it world for it's entire known existence, an entity crawled. Struggling to get free and have full access to this new place. Having reached almost all the way out, the entity gave an almighty hear and ripped it self from it's old world, destroying it in the process. Then after a moment to adjust, the butterfly spread it's wings and flew away on the morning breeze.

The angel Rosemary gave a hymn of praise, for what had just happened, without incident. For that moment all had been equal, and Rosemary had known joy the likes of which she understood that she would never be able to match again. Then she moved on.