The Uplift Protocol Blood Feuds: Issue 15

 

Issue 15: The Veil of the All-Father

 

            It was many years before I told my sister a fraction of what I knew of the male side of the burden. Our mission was the same but the avenues were highly divergent. Each side shoulders a different responsibility. Yes, the Highest is the ultimate form of good. The Red King? His counterpart for evil. Behind them? One more remained. –Dexter Murphy

            The Father of All. There is power in words. Later cycles gave me that title. It was not my mantle to wear. But it was required. For each layer of the world was shrouded. To protect us. To allow the Highest to endure the Long Vigil. To all of us, he gave a piece of that responsibility. A covenant to protect. –Azrael/Black

            By the Iron in our Blood. Our Crosses bared. Our Souls shall Endure. As the Wall Endures. As was commanded. From Father to Son. From Mother to Daughter. The Pact was Made upon the Cliffs of Forever.—the seal of the Arcane Order

            For a time? My world consisted of tracking Meathook. Its true name? I shall not utter here. For even now? Locked away as it is? I still awake. My heart pounding. Of all the enemies I faced? That one was the worse. It was a sly evil. Twisting the shadows. It is no wonder it was the Herald of the Red King.—Sleeping in Starlight: Revelations

Gate of the First Star

Dark Matter Cluster

Time Nullification Sphere

 

            Thomas Murphy circled the pinpoints of energy. His helm picked up the invisible layer. His son held the gem aloft. Thomas didn’t know the purpose of it. Only that J’ino said it would be for their son. The area around them crackled. Golden bolts of lightning collided with crimson. At the center of the battlefield were two figures. One clad in dark red wine armor. The other? A brilliant gold. Their swords clashed.

            Dexter gestured to the white-hot sun blazing overhead.

            Thomas hissed through clenched teeth, “Undead.”

            Under the spurts of cosmic energy, the Murphy duo beheld an ancient mystery, one older than all of creation. Endless scaled bodies.

Dexter elaborated, “The Ouros of the Living prevented their brothers of decay from escaping for countless cycles before the Amache arrived.”

            Cosmic flames. They watched as the two armored behemoths circled. Thomas brushed at the particles beneath their feet. His bracers hummed. Pure magic. Dexter crouched.

 “The Amache thought their cluster the only thing within the whole multiverse. It was just the start.”

Thomas refocused on the armor worn by the combatants. Three circles were etched on each breastplate. One denoted the Highest. The other made Murphy snarl, “The Red King.”

Three circular claw marks. That burned through the hellish armor. Open sores wept across the exposed chest.

White liquid ran down to splatter upon the cosmic tapestry.

Golden blood flowed. Where it touched? Suns appeared.

Vitality and Entropy. The eternal struggle.

One figure remained outside the battlefield. Cloaked within silver flame.

It called out, “There must be a choice.”

The Red King shouted, “Provide me the flesh!”

The Highest retorted, “That is not for you. My brother.”

He brought his massive slab of a sword around. It clanged against the golden armor. Sending the Highest reeling backward. To brush against the barrier between them and that cloaked figure. Its cowled head turned towards the massive coiled shapes of the Ouroborous Cluster overhead. It raised a chalice within its outstretched arms. “To you both, I have but one command.”

“One cannot exist without the other. Those who come after us must choose.”

The robe coiled tight about the figure. Then it split in two. One half entered the Highest.

The Red King howled, “I do not submit!”

That remaining half hung there. Waiting.

Endless scaled forms curled around the golden armor. The flesh turned to metal. Then the Highest flung those forms out into the dark. Where each landed? A universe was born. King brought his blade up to make one desperate strike against his brother, “I have the freedom to choose!” The metal cracked as it met resistance. The countless pieces hurtled into the dark expanse.

He fled into the Dark Matter Cluster.

Dexter walked towards the remaining piece. He pressed his palm to the cold surface.

It regarded Murphy, “Do you take up the burden?” It appraised him with one sliver eye.

Dexter nodded.

“For Life to endure. Death must chase it.”

It entered his body. A golden crow manifested upon his shoulder. “So recognized. Golden Defender. See what is wrought with death’s flesh. The responsibility that Abbadon rejects.”

The Highest approached. “Abbadon will have another role to play. Across the expanse of Time.” He placed a golden gem upon each of Thomas’ bracers. “He will seek to pollute life. We must stop him. Within each of you is a piece required.”

Dexter asked, “How long before he notices?”

The Highest rested his sword point against the ground.

Rivers of light sprang forth.

Dexter recognized the Golden City, the Gilgamesh Sector.

 Earth and Typha circled each other around an unfamiliar star.

Dexter waited.

The Highest bowed his head, “Do not use Throne Sight until after her 2^nd Trial.”

They had been made for this. Their mutilated bodies were carried from Elysium. The first covenant broken had not been the cycle of creation.

Thomas rubbed his chin, “The Battle of the Brothers.”

He added, “That’s one way to break down the beginning of everything.”

The Highest smiled. Sadness radiated from him with each word. “Just so. The reality of it stretches forth. One cycle upon the next.”

That had been the real first betrayal. The sundering of the wall between immortal and mortal.

The Highest tapped his chest, “Yes. It is the burden I place upon you as well. Though you do not carry it alone. Never alone.”

Dexter’s old uniform faded. A black body suit formed. Then came the golden outer layer. His sash rippled. The crow spoke, “What shall be my name?”

He replied, “In due time. As my Sight grows.”

The Highest interjected, “It will be a proper name.”

Gold cawed. His eyes closed. “I am content.”

Thomas watched as his son threw the remaining Ouros out into the expanse. Each twin reflected within the shadow of the metallic living brethren.  A question sparked within his mind. He asked bluntly, “Why does Eliza have to go through these three deaths?”

The Highest replied, “To keep Abbadon off balance. He wishes to rob everyone of Life. Within the mortal realms? Who often gives that first breath of life?”

Thomas nodded sharply. “So that’s why she’s….”

Dexter finished it, “Infertile.”

The Highest waved his gauntleted hand out towards the brilliant lights within the dark.

“You are both Thronebearer. Mortal yet not. My brother desires a way to escape his fleshly prison. He tried through Typherian means.”

Dexter hissed, “The All-Father.” He bowed his head, “Forgive my outburst.”

The Highest inclined his head. His tone strong. Measured.

 “He attempts it through Unity itself. Sending each part against the other. He is that small voice within their heads. Once you give your flesh to him he takes the soul as well.”

Dexter rubbed his left eyebrow, “That was why I couldn’t help with Gwen. With the Red King’s infection via the Owls.” The Highest nodded, “Correct. For that it has to be woman to woman.” Thomas observed, “But he was able to help Eliza because they are both Twin Thronebearers.”

Dexter hooked his thumbs into his belt, “Yep but even then? I had to be discreet. The Red King is always watching.”

Thomas pointed at his chest, “What about the Soul Shards?”

The Highest grinned, “It is why you have that advantage as mortals. Soul Shards call out for each other to be whole. It is not always a romantic pairing either. In your case, it is beyond a romantic pairing Thomas Murphy. It is fate.”

Thomas said, “Good. So if the Red King gets his claws into Paxton or another man?”

The Highest bowed, “Then you send other men marshaled of soul and valor within.”

Dexter nodded, “Some secrets should remain.”

Golden Crow winked. “Tis the way of the world.”

The Highest snapped his fingers, “Just so. Find the Maker. You know of whom I speak!”

A voice echoed through Thomas’ mind, >>Eliza is a conduit. She and Dexter can help one another withstand the Red King. But the barrier between men and women will hold. Must endure. Thus you and your wife shall be an anchor to them both.<<

*****

Thomas turned.

His boots clanked softly as the soles linked to the floor within the room. Objects floated. No gravity. Lovely! His son pointed at the high archways. The industrialized ozone told Dexter all he needed to know.

Tarkanan.

The pounding of metal against metal drove both men forward. His son floated effortlessly off the ground. Thomas intoned a few lines. His feet rose a few inches off the ground. He reached out to take Dexter’s shoulder.

They floated down the corridor. Only a few thousand heartbeats thrummed against Dexter’s skin. Had everyone forgotten this place?  They rounded the corner. Half a dozen four armed men came to attention. At the forefront was a Gemini that stood 2 feet taller. His arms were scarred by long hours among the forge. He greeted them warmly, “For I see the mantle of Death. Thus rejoice. The dark has lifted.”

Dexter replied, “To the light above. Poured from the Chalice.”

Hephaestus replied, “I greet you Arbiter “

Thomas blinked as his HUD updated.

///Hidden Order Glyphs activated. First Knight of the Mirrored Eye.///

Thomas glanced at his son.

///Just how many layers with layers are we going here?///

It was Hephaestus who replied along the same channel.

///As many as needed to draw the Red Gaze of Flesh away.///

Dexter pushed past the group. His long stride carried him to the windowed corridor.

Down below, under layers of metal, trillions of men slumbered. Cryogenically frozen.

Hephaestus called out, “We shall ride with you. Into the Abyss itself.”

Thomas noted drily, “Those sigils and pods are from the Golden City.”

It would seem Dexter and Eliza had thought of everything.

Dexter nodded, “Within the past? She and Lanis collected as many uncorrupted Gemni as could be gathered. From across the multiverse.”

General Murphy marveled at it. “So as long as we keep her on course….”

Dexter clapped his father on the shoulder, “Good will endure the Vigil required.”

*****

            I kicked the Artock husk backward. It careened over the lip of the cargo bay doors of the Jupiter Rising. The rest of my crew were in battlesuits as well. The grav boots kept them stable as the Jupiter corkscrewed through the air. The majority of the Hoard was after us. I had to figure out a way to get to that Necrotic Sun. It glared balefully down at us. I could sense its ire through my empathy nodes. I winced as the wrath washed over me. Sure as anything it was directing the fun on the ground.

            One problem at a time.

            A thick torsoed body flung itself over the barricade.

 Mom's mouth hung open. I could see past the visor.

 Her voice amazed, “X’mil is smarter without his head. Oh, dear!”

I would have laughed but the body aimed two wicked curved knives toward my mother. I launched myself at him. One hand about each wrist to prevent the blades from reaching my flesh or hers. A sickening crunch emanated from his body. Tendrils of muscles sharpened. I dodged as each spike attempted to impale itself past the battle suit shielding. ///Power at 56%!///

“Not helping,” I muttered.

Doc’s voice sounded in my left ear, “Ejecting phase shells!”

I held the body up higher. Six ballistics the size of golf balls thudded against X’mil’s fancy purple shirt. Even as an undead husk the man thought himself posh. Give me a simple set of jeans and a t-shirt any day of the week. His form went flying in a high arc. It clipped the cargo bay roof before exiting.

I heard the faint thump as it hit the ground below.

Gulliver’s strained whisper flowed through the Thronebearer network.

///Hot sauce! We got DEFCON Alpha Centuri up in here! Bad kinda family reunion! E’ratha’s back.///

I dashed towards the cockpit.

The Sun spoke, “What shall you choose? Arbiter of Life.”

I paled. That voice.

The All-Father.

Issue 14: Here

Issue 16: Here