'I beg your pardon', said Susan.
As unbridled scenes of jubilation erupted around her, Susan strained to hear the reveller's response.
'It's all over S News. Abaddon has discovered the technology for mass space travel,' he laughed. 'We're all going into space!'
Susan shoved off the white bearded man's attempt to hug her. 'No, there must be some sort of mistake.'
'That was a neat trick though,' the reveller continued, 'what news alerts do you sign up to, to get updates so early.'
But before Susan could protest further with the man, he was swept up in an impromptu conga line.
She was mortified, in desperation she attempted to halt the celebrations. Climbing onto the nearest platform she screamed at the crowd.
'But it wasn't Abaddon, he's just taking credit for it. It was Alan! He did this as a miracle to prove to you his existence, halt that conga at once! The eternal torment of our souls is on the line.'
But it was all too late, across London she could hear car horns beeping and echoing waves of euphoria as the news spread.
Susan sat on the floor defeated and disheartened. She found her phone and read through Abaddon self-aggrandisement, fuming as she read.
Anger crumbled quickly into self-pity as she wallowed in her failure.
'If they only knew what awaited them, they wouldn't be cheering.'
How could she face Alan after this; after all the faith he had put in her; after all the chances he gave mankind? Surely there could be no more second chances, he would leave them to endless torment and it was all her fault. Because of her there would be no paradise, no hope of redemption.
No, because of Abaddon! Because of the endless selfishness of one man all hope for humanity was lost. How she despised him.
She picked herself up off the floor, too disheartened to dust herself off and shuffled despondent towards home.
As she paused to let the conga line pass, waiting by the exit was the same hooded figure, unmoving and as disinterested in the celebrations as she was.
Susan felt a shudder trickle down her spine as the figure walked purposely towards her and looked instinctively for anything she could use as a weapon, but as she drew closer, she noticed under the hood was a young woman, possibly still in her late teens. A shock of dyed pink hair protruded from the jet black hoodie as she approached.
'You know more than you let on. If you're still interested in getting your message across then maybe we can help each other.' She put a folded up piece of paper in Susan's hand and walked back towards the crowd. 'I know she'll be interested in talking to you.'
Susan held the paper tightly. 'I'm sorry, what? No, don't leave, I didn't catch your name?'
But she was already deep within the crowd and out of sight.
Susan's heart pounded as she scurried out of the park. When she was sure she was alone, she opened up the piece of paper.
'Lambeth Arches. 7pm. Ask for Justice.'
'That was somewhere near the old Waterloo station,' she thought, but it had been abandoned for years.
She was perplexed, the young woman couldn't possibly know about Alan, could she? Susan was hardly the type for clandestine meetings with sinister looking strangers, but in the face of total destruction at the hands of an enraged God, she quickly realised, she actually had nothing left to lose.
'What a curious life this is turning out to be,' she thought as she wandered away from the ever expanding conga line.
Susan spent the next few hours within earshot of Big Ben, observing the celebrations of her fellow man. She hadn't the heart to join in, instead she conceded to being the only living soul that felt more hopeless because of the news of their survival.
She tried to take comfort in their joy, but deep down she knew there would be repercussions.
As night fell she made her way south to what was left of Waterloo Station. Across the river the lights and noise reminded Susan of the New Year celebrations of her youth and for a brief moment she bathed in the distant sound of communal joy and love.
Then just as quickly, she turned her back on them and continued down the cold cobbled streets that ran beside the railway arches. The flickering street light illuminating only emptiness as dark clouds covered the last remaining moonlight as she entered the tunnelled entrance.
Tunnels led through to more tunnels as she followed the barely lit maze, the smell of damp growing ever stronger.
Susan's pulsed quickened as the echo of her own footsteps bounced off the stone arches, she was desperate to see another living soul, just one friendly face to assure her she wasn't willingly walking to her death.
Big Ben rang seven times.
She neared a corner and slowed her pace as she saw a large heavy set figure dressed in black, smoking outside the only doorway.
Susan froze as the man spotted her. He immediately rose up to his full height, his expression unnecessarily combative and aggressive.
She couldn't turn back now even if she wanted to, terrified it might set the man off, she had also lost track of how to get back in her desperation to find the place.
Susan carefully approached attempting to look too harmless to attack and smiled warmly at the man who remained stone-faced.
'Um, do excuse me but I was looking for a young woman with pink hair, usually under a hood. She told me to be under Lambeth Arches for 7pm, but I'm afraid I don't have any more information than that.'
'Don't know what you're talking bout, Luv.'
'Oh my, well I don't suppose you know how to get back from here do you, I'm not sure I remember the way.'
'No,' he grunted, flicking his cigarette at her feet.
'I see,' said Susan, taking a step back gripping the folded up piece of paper in her hand.
'Oh, I think her name was Justice, if that helps at all? Well, if she happens to come by this way looking for me do please tell her I tried and I'll be heading back up to Paddington station, if I can find it.'
The heavy set man looked her up and down with suspicion then opened the door behind him and stood to one side, shepherding her in as he nervously scanned either end of the tunnel.
'You'll find justice in there, luv.'
Susan, taken aback, hesitantly peered inside to another dimly lit corridor. She attempted to see what was at the end but beyond the stained dark-red walls there was only shadow.
Before she could turn and ask the gentleman what she was looking for, he'd closed the door behind her and she heard the heavy lock click.
Feeling instant regret for most of her recent life choices, she did her best to compose herself before walking blindly into the shadows.
She fumbled through the darkness before abruptly stopping at the feel of thick cloth in front of her, it was heavy and cold and smelt old and a little damp - reminding Susan of the stage curtain at her old primary school. Searching for the opening she made her way into a brightly lit antichamber with walls of exposed brick, painted white and a large wooden ornate door at the furthest end.
It was clear that people had recently been here from the footprints on the floor.
Susan nervously approached the door before getting a hold of herself.
'What on earth am I doing, this is utter madness.'
She resolved to politely let herself out and make her way home before something seriously untoward happened. Why was she attempting to remedy this situation on her own when she had the creator of all things back at home?
She could just get Alan to strike Abaddon down, or perhaps reverse time, or who knows what wondrous powers he possessed that she couldn't even think of.
'Ah, there you are, I didn't think you would show. Come on it's about to start.'
Susan spun round to see the young woman from the park standing right behind her, her pink hair jagged across her shadowed eyes.
'Well I'm really not sure this is a good idea, Justice.' Said Susan backing away towards the exit.
The young woman unlocked the heavy wooden door.
'Oh, I'm not Justice,' she said, swinging the door wide open to reveal an auditorium filled to capacity with thousands of people.
'We are justice.'
Susan peered into the cavernous room, she had never seen so many people in one place.
'I'm Kali. Come on, she's looking forward to meeting you after her speech.'
Susan followed her into the auditorium as all the lights were cut to the rapturous screaming adulation of the crowd.
A single spotlight shone down onto the podium, bathing their leader in golden light.
She stood tall and imposing in front of the baying mob, her steely gaze determined and righteous.
A Revolutionary in red lipstick.
The founder and strategic military leader of Justice For Earth.
'Oh my,' gasped Susan. 'It's the princess.'