Issue 8: Whitefall
C’tar and some of his Light Sages have come to Earth. To understand the future we must dive into the past. Not only of Whitehome but of Humanity’s home as well. What dwells within the depths must be revealed. If we are all to survive. –Sir Avalon
My mother. I gave her file to Thomas Murphy. Knowing he’d keep things to himself for the required period. Her tale began like most do: Setting out to explore. What she found would lead to Convergence.—Father Dennis Miles Brookes
It's not known how many were taken aboard Void Walker Null Ships. Experimented on and returned. But like the Morrigan, the mother of the Brookes clan ended up providing a needed boost to the side of Light. It makes me wonder how Hilary would have turned out had her mother been able to escape with her.—Sleeping in Starlight, a memoir of the 23rd century (vol. 2)
Oregon (Edenverse)
Haden Family Ranch
October 8th, 2055
The earthy aroma of planets and vegetables surrounded her.
Alice Haden sucked on her thumb. Wincing as a tiny pinprick of blood welled up from the abused digit. When people thought of a ranch they expected cattle, corn, or some general livestock but this place held none of that. It was accused of being a Cult. To outsiders it was. For her? It was a way of life. Her father’s stern gaze forming in her mind.
Watch the shadows. The gray menace moves when you aren’t looking.
Her father had been the first taken by the lights. Not the illumination of holy radiance but the paralyzing horde of Unity. Pale fingers plucking at his clothing. Harsh snaps and clicks. Running machines through his mind and body. Finding treasure within her family’s DNA. Thus they had traveled all across the face of the Earth. Never staying in one place too long. Knowing the buzzing of decay would key in on them. Their pale drones spewing black scrawl across the sky as they darted about an Earth unprepared.
Those beings that most wrote away as a myth. Often these stories had grains of truth. Harkening back to the Golden City of Ta’mathon. One only had to have eyes to see. Yet most of America poured their interests into demis, the epic clashes of heroes and villains, hoping to bury their unease about the truth hiding in plain sight. They were not alone. Not by a long shot. The stars held promise but blood as well. Her family was old. From before the birth of America. They didn’t age like other men or women. It was their gift and curse.
Eternal Watchers on the Wheel of Fate. Voices trickled across her skin.
The dark man is coming. You will know him by his face. The hunger of the void.
Not the true Void. The dominion of death and rebirth.
She picked at the red rose bush. The sinister thorns pulling at her mind. The Queen of the Dark Court. Morgana was said to love roses as pitch as night. Using their stems to summon dark spirits. She pulled her jacket closer about her shoulders. The enviro-controlled greenhouse offering no comfort. Her mother shadowed the doorway, “Come my daughter. We must renew the wards.” Alice rose. Brushing off the dirt from her jeans.
This would be the last year she would have with her family.
The Darkman would take her.
Keeper Null Ship
Stasis Tanks
Chronos pressed his palm across the honey-combed surface.
The woman within was a genetic marvel. Her raven hair was pleasing enough to basic humans. It was the face that held his attention. The blood of Hidan’s people ran through her veins. Perfected with the patterns of the Weave. The ideal testbed for the hybrid project. Where demis like the Morrigan had been baseborn clay this was material of Creation!
Much like the rare catch Nyx had acquired so long ago.
She brought up the biological readouts.
“She is 65% Human stock. Hidan will notice her absence.”
Chronos replied, “As expected. Yet I have what I want. Bring up more of Brooke’s samples. Notify me when you have a viable candidate.”
Lunar City
Observation Dome
January 9th, 2116
Miles Dennis Brookes turned. He rested a hand over his heart.
“What can I do for you?” The priest kept his face open. Hoping to set the visitor before him at ease.
Micheal Brookes brought a container. A cylinder capped off at each end with copper.
Resting it on the table near the port side of the dome. His dark blue eyes studying the Father’s features. Noting that this man took more after the unknown mother. Micheal muttered a prayer. The holy man took a seat. Waving Brookes to the other alcove.
Micheal cleared his throat then asked, “How many did it….”
Miles took the container. It hissed open. Within were the few personal effects former FBI agent Brookes guarded reverently. Miles pulled out the necklace. With a simple cross hanging on the end. The metal warming to his touch. He muttered a prayer and Micheal’s eyes widened. Father Brookes presented it to Micheal. Miles didn’t know if the man before him would ever consider him a legitimate son. A part of him hoped to at least build a bridge. Knowing how Chronos had violated them all.
Father Brookes chose his words carefully. “Only Hilary and I survived to adulthood.”
Micheal frowned, bringing out a small flask of whiskey. “Kid, tell me.”
Dennis met the face of his human sire, “Thirty-five in all. 23 of them never got past 5 months. Nyx delighted in showing my mother the results.” Micheal screwed his eyes shut. Rubbing his right temple. He kept remembering what that Litari fellow, Ritark would say, “Family is more than blood. I don’t know what kinda father material I’d be but you’re not alone in this padre.”
Miles glanced away. Studying the curvature of Earth. Not trusting himself to speak.
The priest pulled out a set of photos from his robes. Old Polaroids shielded by modern tech. Micheal saw her face. Miles as a kid. The way her arms cradled him protectively. Even knowing how he had come about. Despite all the suffering. Her eyes were clear. A warm brown. Boots clicked on the floor as Thomas Murphy entered, “I’ve spoken with the Arcane Council. We will find your mother, Mr. Miles.”
Micheal grated out, “I better be on that team, sir.”
Thomas replied, “Consider it done.”
*****
Morgana observed the woman through her webs. She was immune to the White Owls. How odd. Yet Nyx insisted that she be corralled here within Morgana’s portion of the Dreaming. The elderly dark fae ruler had thought it quite amusing to hide within the very fabric of Earth’s dominion. To spit in the eye of the Weave. She watched. Tempted to pull Mordred in for a second opinion. Even though he was quite cunning his tunnel vision towards his mother was a weakness that disturbed Morgana. She closed in using one of Unity’s gifted mirrors. The woman was singing. In a language unknown to the Dark Seeress. She frowned. Pulling in closer. An achingly bright flash arced through the mirror. Morgana screamed. The sound pulled from the deepest part of her shriveled soul. That thing was part Weave! She hissed, “Nyx.” She would strangle that Keeper. No wonder the White Owls had no hold over that human. No, not quite human.
High Guard Oratorian blood ran through its veins.
Not just a common Nephilim line. Those were bad enough.
Her ribs burned where that odious Detective Paxton had bestowed blessed bullets upon her hide.
An old line from that cursed Weave Homeworld.
Centered at the heart of the “Path of Ancients.” As the fools in this cycle called it.
Her fingers brushed the side of the mirror. Finding the surface wiped clean. That woman had broken her mirror! With a mere song! No, a benediction. There was no way to throw her out of this pocket of the Dreaming. Had Nyx known!? She fled deeper into her twisted realm. Hoping to safeguard what threads she could to dormant servants. She would need Mordred after all. Morgana peered over her shoulder. Expecting that Banner demi to crash through everything. Yet the darker mist remained. Curling around her bare feet.
*****
Alice Haden Brookes repeated her steps. The bright spark of her son’s soul ringing within her. She felt the pull of her daughter as well. Where one had committed to the angels of his heart, her daughter slipped further into darkness. There would be no quarter. Hilary had made her choice. It was Alice’s greatest regret as a mother. She had not been able to convince Hilary of the truth. No matter what Oaths she had sung. The Silver Lady formed. Pointing at a gnarled black tree surrounded by yellow roses.
The Light will guide you. Walk to that Tree. It must be rekindled.
Alice obeyed. Never faltering in her steps. The Weave had promised salvation. The way was paved. The threads around the true Micheal Brookes revealed a man tarnished by sorrow. The Void Man held out his hand, “Walk with us. You shall never be alone.” A faint blue shimmer formed. New strands plucked at her mind.
Behind her, the Dark Mistress of this false domain retreated. For it was not Morgana who controlled this place. Alice moved forward with each step. Freeing souls trapped within the tattered ghostly threads of corruption. The Dreaming usually provided solace for those between the realm of waking and reality. It would be so once more.
Morgana could no longer hide.
A corgi formed alongside her.
His black fur was a strange contrast to his deep orange eyes. She scooped him up.
“It is not safe even for one as brave as you!” His tail thudded against her arm.
He replied, “That is the point!”
The Void nodded gravely. The Silver Lady vanished in a pillar of light.
Rough stones sprung from the ground. Guiding Alice deeper into the Dreaming.
Orbit of Jupiter
Io
White Defender Repository
The radiant call of trumpets echoing through the complex.
Hidan’s wings spread wide, “Morgana’s Web has been breached!”
Paxton grinned, “Best news I’ve heard in a while. Ill com the Pinkertons. I bet they’d want in on this part!”
The holy host would go to war. Bright golden armor flowed over his body.
Paxton removed the lance from its case.
The voices of the newly allied Light Sages joining his.
It was risky. Might even bring about unwanted attention but Paxton knew this was a Truth the world had to behold. If they were all to survive. Humanity would have to know what was at stake.
Orbit of Sol
Terran Alliance Monitoring Station
The sound was a constant pinging.
I asked Doc, “Remind me, what’s TA protocol about this particular beep beep beep?”
Lorain’s Yellow Defender armor formed over her body. “It's not Artock. I can tell you that!” I exited the closest airlock.
My Banner uniform was still in place.
White exclaimed, >>IO! The Nhililum march towards Earth!<<
Uncle Paxton’s voice hit my HeroNet comlink, <<Hey kid. Want to help with a rescue op? No actual sapients will be hurt. Just a whole metric ton of White Owls. O’rioh’s already with us.>>
<<Is that what the TA station is carrying on about?>>
His reply was enthusiastic, <<Yup! It's for certain parties.>>
Ahh, so that meant my father knew. As if summoned he appeared next to me. Judgment from head to toe. His bracers alight with magical flame. D’iaxi phased in as well. The old band was getting back together.
White snorted, <<As if you are old enough for that kind of reminiscing!>>
Space whirled past as I joined Uncle Paxton. Hidan and his upper echelon host weren’t here. Paxton winked, <<We don’t need a certain Flying Spaghetti monster!>>
My mind cleared. I nodded.
O’rioh pointed, <<Enter the Dreaming over this landmass.>>
Ireland.
*****
The Morrigan took to the skies. Using the Iron Leyline to make haste.
Her mentor’s warning ringing clearly, “Do not let Mordred reach the Tree.”
She cawed as she dipped past a flock of birds. The old rolling hills of her homeland rising before her. Her heart was lighter than it had been in many decades. She would act.
No matter the cost.
Issue 7: Here
Issue 9: Here
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