[ WP ] Every person in the world undergoes a `` goodness '' test . It 's designed to give a score from 1 to 200 , where 1 is pure evil , and 200 is an angel in human body . Then the world is divided into 200 zones , where people can live among their own kind .

I had stared at the same number every day I woke up. Every single day since I was born, ripped from my mother's arm and given the Assessment. Which, come to think of it, I never remembered taking, but all they had to do was take my DNA and run it through their machines. And by they, I do mean the Vassals that rule over us. 
 
 And by us, I do mean me. 
 
 You see, ever since I was born, and ever since the Assessment was given to me and I scored the single number no parent ever wants to see, I have been alone. Living in this zone, by myself, staring at the Number painted on the walls and doors and buildings that inhabit this abandoned city which could be a ghost city if anyone had ever *lived* here before. I'm the first person ever, in the history of the Assessment, to have been given the Number. 
 
 The next, I want to say, thirty zones or so are empty. Others have scored those numbers before, but they were long before me and their bones are now ashes buried under the dirt and weeds that crowd over the buildings. All the other zones, there are two hundred of them, have anywhere from a few dozen to over thirty million. Zone 100, for instance, has the most at thirty-two million. Those people, neither good or evil, have no position in the Vassal, have no authority over how the government works, and have no care for if the rest of us live or die. 
 
 They care for themselves, which I can understand. 
 
 Going up from a hundred, you have the Good. The men, women, and children who will eventually take on roles that range from politician to servant to noble lords and ladies who give more to the people of the other zones than they ever give to themselves. Those who would risk their lives for the safety of *our* Vassal rather then see it burn. Our system works, as they have said it did, because we have people that will gladly ( and heroically ) die for it. 
 
 Going down from a hundred, you have the Bad, the Ugly, and the Evil. And by ugly, I do n't mean physically, I mean mentally. People who would rather sell others into slavery then do anything themselves. People who would kill others for the sake of killing, or holding their power, or any sort of deeds like that. Sure, some of them slip into politics, even more slip into the gangs and clans and groups of assassin orders and cults. But those people usually end up dying in any of those zones, and the people who make it into politics are usually the ones who keep their power for life. 
 
 There is some system of corruption in our world, but when you look at it as either Good, Bad, or Neutral, there's bound to be some sort of evil that gets through to the Good. And some sort of Good that gets through the Evil. That'd be the missionaries of one hundred forty-nine and fifty. 
 
 I do n't usually talk so much about it, but then again, I do n't usually talk so much in general. The occasional missionary or servant will come by with supplies. Usually some medicine if I'm sick or some books and entertainment. My zone, just like the others, is completely self-sustaining and I export ( to the same servants ) some commodity that everyone in the goddamn Vassal wishes for. And some people have the money, or commodities, that I need. 
 
 Our system is an easy one. You get assessed, you get assigned, you work, you buy, you die. 
 
 It is, of course, not the best, but it is the one that has lasted seventeen generations. Through war and famine, disease and drought, the Vassal has been there, giving the Assessment and living off the backs of others for generations. And they will certainly be there, albeit in a different form, long after I am dust and howling in the wind. 
 
 That is, of course, after I burn this place to the ground. 
 
 You see, I've stared at the same number for twenty-two years. Ever vigilant. A guardian to the world I live in, a watchful reminder that I, twenty-two years ago, was named the `` Angel of the World.'' But in those twenty-two years, with little contact to the other zones except population updates, and years spent in books of history and philosophy, science and math, art and the soul, I realized something very important. That Angels come in many forms. 
 
 There are the Angels you know, the ones the missionaries speak of time and time again. The Angels that guard our world, the protectors, the watchers, not unlike the numbers that litter our zones. If you have ever heard the story of Michael, one I'm sure no one talks about, but still exists in books. He was an Archangel, a leader of the armies of God and defeater of Lucifer. They are the ones they see in themselves, as preachers of the faith. 
 
 But did you know who Lucifer really was? He was, once, a great Angel and guardian, a protector of the faith of God who eventually fell from grace. Who eventually rose from the ground and burnt the world. At least, in my telling. 
 
 You see, there's a fine line between good and evil. It does n't separate itself between the number one and two hundred. Hell, it hardly separates itself between one and two, or a hundred and a hundred one, or a hundred and forty-nine and fifty. There is no wall that can hold that line, there's no amount of politicians or servants or missionaries who can keep that line from snapping in two. You see, when you try and separate good and evil you get black and white. 
 
 And when you get black and white, you get grey. The middle line, the line the world rests itself on. But that line. Oh, that line is so very fragile. A bribe here, a bribe there, a transportation of goods from one zone to another and everything *breaks*. Everything collides. Every line, every wall, every zone collapses. 
 
 It only took me twenty-two years to realize that. It only took me a few books, a few thoughts, and more than a few arguments with some people to say that everything is evil. And everything is good. 
 
 They call me the Angel of the World because twenty-two years ago I was given the number Two Hundred. The first ever in the history of the Vassal. But they call me an Angel and never specified what kind I could be. Sure, they assumed it would be the Archangel that lead the armies of God to defeat Lucifer, but when they separate you, when you are isolated from the World that you are the Angel of; well, you learn some things. 
 
 You learn a lot of things. 
 
 You learn why Lucifer fell. Why he saw what he saw in us. And why the Vassal is what is. You learn that the good were never in charge, that the bad were never really bad, they were just given a number. You learn that in a world where you are placed in a zone on the *possibility* of who you might become you become someone else entirely. 
 
 For instance, instead of becoming the Angel that brings upon a new age of life and of goodness. The Angel that would lead the armies of Good against Evil, you become something else entirely. You become the Morning Star, the Bringer of Dawn, the Light-bringer. You become the Devil that the people never expected to see. But the one that *they* created. 
 
 And you realize that a number is just a number. But you are the Bringer of Light.
