The Uplift Protocol Blood Feuds: Issue 21

 

Issue 21: Cathedral of Night

 

            A plague of Locusts. There are many legends. They hold a seed of truth. Noah and his Ark. The first of firsts fled Elysium. For the curse that was brought upon that land fell like rain. But not all were affected by the blight.—Amache Fragments

            What lies behind the Highest? There are whispers. The foundation for everything came from that spark.—In the Beginning: Arcane Order Vol 1

            There is truth. Yes, there is a realm beyond the Highest. I do not understand it. It was not meant for us. Abbadon denies that truth.  He was made for a purpose. So was the Highest. One brother embraced that purpose while the other fled from it. In the end? That was the shattering that changed everything.—Sleeping in Starlight: Higher Plane of Being

            The walls were crumbling.

Plain gray stone. I walked through the ruined pathway. Half-dead trees and flowers rotted within pots. The roof was hideous. Blackened tiles atop spiked towers. I pressed a hand to the rusted gate. It groaned on its hinges as I pushed forward. The main foyer had a spiraled staircase. On the left were black and white checkered hallways. Right side? Golden and black.

I walked toward the spiral staircase.

Not yet.

The floor shifted under me.

A warbling noise rose from the depths.

A small click resounded on marbled flooring.

Tick. Tack. Tick. Tack.

A figure phased through my body. That cane. It was the Curator!

The Amache leader paused at the alcove.

Hit a series of keys. The winged statue swung inward.

I followed him down the steps. This place wasn’t real. A kaleidoscope of past, present, and future. The landscape warped. One half was a bone-white field. The other was cloaked. Darkness that even my sight couldn’t pierce. Thoth approached. That knife within my dreams at the ready. “I will take the mantle.”

My future self blocked the first blow. He toppled backward. Away from the so-called Bone Throne. It was not his. My attention focused in. I could read the lettering on the outside of the backrest.

So enthroned. The Lord of Death. The Gentle Way of Reincarnation. A wraith-infused figure floated above us as Thoth and I circled. I knew that shape. I had lived with him within the recesses of my mind. Dexter. His voice reached across the annals of time.

<<Abbadon will not seek your memories. You must take the weapon into your soul. To cleanse it. I will reforge it into the proper core of Necrotic Influence. I am finally ready to accept it. We were never meant for a normal life but we can protect those who come after.>>

 I examined the throne once more. It was not made of bone as Unity had envisioned. A soothing pulse echoed forth. Final Rest for the physical shell that was our bodies. My heart caught in my throat. Abbadon had rejected the natural order. Thinking that mantle useless. If the soul could not pass through the Veil, through the Ouro, unto another form? It would be eternal suffering. Dexter nodded. His expression severe. We would not reincarnate for countless millennia. The damage was severe. The Vigil was not only one of protection but one of rejuvenation.

Thoth rammed the dagger home within my chest.

Hilary screamed, “No!” It wasn’t for my sake.

They had never known the trap was there.

Crimson tendrils spun about his head. They reached out to encircle her pale gray flesh as well. She would not be spared the indignity of being his prized puppet. We served willingly. The Light was a cloak. Ready to face the dark.Thoth and all the others? They had one master and he did not abide rebellion within the ranks. It was all an act. Mordred knelt as the Throne of Death rejected them all. The energy, infused with dark matter, flooded the battlefield.

Doc pulled my ravaged body behind the Throne.

That was my brother’s dominion.

Massive Black Lions circled our foes. Icath. All of them.

Thoth’s eyes narrowed. A flash of crimson rippled across his face. His eyes smoldered. “Neat trick.” Dexter waved his hand. Endless white tridents materialized. All aimed at “Thoth”, Hilary, Mordred, and Meathook. Small details blurred.

The Curator reached out to squeeze my hand. “Do not focus on the death of flesh.” He pointed at the wound pulsating across my chest. Doc’s hands shook as she pulled the handle out. There was no helping it. I knew. I remembered. That shared moment within the Ur. She would pull all the pieces from me. But not here. Not at this moment. That would be left across the Sands of the Golden City. Those shards would remain within until we could construct the Aquifuor. Knowledge flowed.

Pieces of the Past to Protect the Future.

The present is set on a collision course with Chronos. He was the null point.

The first barrier. He thought he served Unity.

Flecks of crimson stared out from those pitiless black eyes. The Curator said quietly, “Noah’s Ark is a prism. Chronos must be contained.”

*****

Mordred plucked at the threads of Night.

He too saw the trap. The 2^nd Convergence. As constructed by the Highest.

Abbadon smirked, “Ahh. They wish me to enter through Thoth. I will oblige.”

Mordred pushed through the vision. His rictus grin widened. “They wish to form the Scyth from the Root.”

Abbadon circled his Seer. His Orator. “I will allow it. It will bond with the False Guardian. Then I shall steal his form when they all think the threat is handled. Thoth will play one final role.”

The Red King pulled his cloak about his wasted form.

“They have no idea what is in store.”

Thoth was the obvious shell but not the only chosen.

 

*****

            Jupiter Rising noted, <<Heart rate elevated.>>

            Lorain ran a hand over Eliza. The white light of the Quarantine Ward made her appear lighter than usual. The shield world had teleported back to the main staging area. She didn’t ask why. She didn’t want to know anything about the next phase. Not only because of the Order’s warnings but she feared for Eliza as well. Her heart hammered in her throat as Eliza’s eyes shot open. “What the….”

            The trials ahead would make all this shield world business seem like child’s play.

            Dexter’s message made her pause. A growing sense of disquiet made her dizzy. She grabbed onto the edge of the medical pod.

            ///Clock is ticking. 1130 years. Here is what you need to proclaim to the world.///

 The data packet contained a new form of prolong. One that would make a Typherian House Noble pale at the tapestry of it. Everyone would have a choice to make. Expand and live for 10,000 years or stick with the standard Terran or Typherian model. Proctor Gansys’ cultured tenor filled her right ear. <<The Arcane Order has already offered this to its key agents. Bardax has taken it without any hesitation. Alongside Earth’s K-9s. They wish to hold true to the Vigil for as long as possible.>>

Doc pushed Eliza back down into the curved egg shaped pod. Her body trembled with the weight of it all. What would everyone choose?

*****

            How’d I end up here?

Granted it was my home away from home but I didn’t think I’d get into the red with that Nargus Samata creature. Lorain smiled down at me. It was a professional “I’m your Doctor” vibe. Oh boy. I checked my Chrono. Three days. Anything could have happened. Her fingers were cold. Her face paled as new data flowed from her HUD. I could see the flashes of it across her irises. I pulled her into the pod. I didn’t like the erratic signals playing tapdance across her spine either.

I asked quietly, “What level of Triage are we at now?”

Lorain rested her cheek against my chest.

She didn’t reply. The images through the Union bond were enough to give me pause.

With that much time added to a life? Population growth would quadruple within a few decades. Made me glad we had pleanty of territory to grow into.

Deep down I knew I didn’t feel ready. Doc’s fingers tightened against my shirt.

I swallowed hard, “We can’t fail them.”

*****

Anna’s shoes clacked against the hard wooden floor. It was a pleasant enough deck piece. She stared up at the home of Fredrick Marshall III. Its simple white two-story construct hid the rare symbology below. He had an Arcane node under that structure. She turned as Aether rounded the corner. His eyes were thoughtful. He held out his hand, “Ready?”

Anna took it, “No but I’m game anyway. I owe the golden child that much.”

As they descended the steps within the cellar they were greeted by a fresh-faced Marshall. His hair was as white as ever but his face? It was returned to the glow of youth. His bright blue eyes blazed with vigor. He motioned to the alcove within the stonework. The runes for “Everlasting” and “Rejuvenation” were engraved with yellow alongside one other rune.

It pulsed with a lively jade sheen.

“The Three.”

Enthroned above all.

Anna mused, “Think anything will ever be simple again?”

Marshall responded with a chuckle, “Not likely but we can hope for moments of calm.”

Anna said, “Just checking. Never thought I’d miss the days of Elenore throwing plates.”

Did any of the demis have a normal routine anymore? Street crime felt like it was a rare artifact from a bygone era. She linked in with Golden Bulleteer. <<How’s my son doing?>>

Daniel Richard McQuire aka Wavelength.  He was able to manipulate sound.

Golden Bulleteer shot back with, <<Doing well. Can melt Living Stone constructs with a jaunty whistle. Provided they have the ruminants of an ear canal.  Made a secret sound language to help the Bardaxian Special Scout Units.>>

Anna noted, <<Provided there’s an atmosphere.>>

White Lily cut in, <<Got that covered. He’s in a mixed unit.>>

Magic then. Anna let out a breath, <<I’m taking the deal.>>

It was code for the Life Extension 3.0.

Times were changing. Anna only hoped they would survive what was coming.

The pained faces of the Red King’s puppet army flashed within her mind.

They would need every fighter they could get. Unlike the undead, these would be with partial soul shards. The flesh melded. Not even beheading would stop them. She prayed that the Arbiters had a few more aces up their cosmic-powered sleeves. Marshall noted her darkened mood, “That angle is being worked on.”

The way he said it made her flinch. “I don’t want to know.”

Weave Speakers had enough nightmares already.

She knew she was being dour but couldn’t quite reel it in. Marshall nodded stiffly. He did not envy Dexter Murphy in the slightest. He held out a glass. “Whiskey?”

Issue 20: Here

Issue 22: Here

The Uplift Protocol Blood Feuds: Issue 20

 

Issue 20: Necrotic Dreams

 

            The Highest thinks to replace me with a pretender? You have not changed. Clothed in Judgment and Divine Mercies. Your light is not the only one within this Universe or countless amalgamations! I will draw upon the infinite.—Abbadon

            My dreams grow dark. The Nightmares hold the Truth.—Ta’karr Urraden

            Yes, the Highest operates out in the open. That is its way. To offer the weak a crutch. I require those who will themselves to break the Covenants of Man, Soul, and Void. Defy the flesh that holds you prisoner.—Book of N’ath: Vol 1

The Night Realm

Corrupted Threads

           

Mordred’s soul thread strained against the endless dark.

A new presence had infiltrated the domain.

The warning of Samata rang within the frigid space. “Ark’ah’kul!” Death Walks….

            Abbadon was the death of the flesh. The denial of the soul’s reincarnation. Once fallen always fallen. The Highest believed in redemption. Mordred knew better. There was no safety for one such as him. He’d rather be on the side that was more than just a catspaw. Unity had its uses. Taking all the notice. All the dread. All the flames. Fanning outward into the spiraling expanse of space. The howling between stars. Many knew of its counterpart. The Veil. That was where the Light dwelled.

            The Night Realm was for his kind. Necromancers only knew the bare edge of this place.

            Mantle of Death. Abbadon rejected it.

            Mordred knew what Abbadon wanted. At least on the surface. Mastery of All. Not just the window into Life. Everything. What existed beyond Death. Beyond the Twilight. What gave birth to the Highest and Crimson King. They were not the first. Abbadon wanted the Source. The authority to re-write everything. His brother controlled the flow of time but Mordred knew there were ways around that. Ink flowed. Poured into his eyes.

            Chronos would be offered up as a sacrifice.

*****

            Ta’karr Urraden screamed.

No sound flowed from his lips. His fingers curled. Crescent-shaped welts formed on his palms. The voice tore through his brain. Oily shades clung to his body. There was no respite here. He had made his choice. It was the only way to protect her. Black fire flowed through his belly. The stone room faded. Stars whirled overhead. Great armies and ships of the wall battled. At the heart was Chronos. A shadow of tendrils coiled about Eliza Murphy. Entropic energy!

His eyes narrowed. The prophecies had never been about Eliza. About Life.

The Prophecy Of The Twin Rulers

FEAR THE PATH OF THE ANCIENTS.

THE GUILT IS CARRIED DOWN THROUGH ALL-TIME

PASSED FROM ONE GENERATION TO THE NEXT

THE KEY IS NOT FOR YOU!

THE TWIN RULERS OF THE SKY SHALL ENCOMPASS ALL!

ONE FULL OF HOPE

ONE HIDDEN IN ASH

CLOAKED FROM THE PRYING EYES OF FATE

TWIN HEARTS BEATING AS ONE

TWO WORLDS BOUND AS ONE

THE ANSWER LIES UPON THE OUROBOROS

EACH RULER WILL WIELD A KEY UPON THE INFINITE

THE SNAKE BARRS THE PATH

ONLY WHEN THE BLOOD TRULY AWAKENS SHALL THE MULTIVERSE BE SAVED

TWO LINES, TWO HEARTS, ONE WILL

AN EMPTY CROWN SITS ON A USELESS THRONE

THE MASTERS OF OLAM STILL WEEP

THE SLUMBERING ONE MUST AWAKEN

THE STAR WILL LIGHT THE WAY

THE TWIN SUNS SHALL DEFEAT THE UNITY

BEWARE THE PITLESS EYES

A NEW DAWN AWAITS, DEFENDED BY THE WHITE LIGHT OF LIFE

WHAT IS THOUGHT DEAD WILL RISE.

 

            One will. Who’s will? That of the Highest? Or Abbadon.

            A voice reverberated through his skull.

            “Now you understand the tricks my brother plays. We each possess a Key upon the Infinite. I had to steal mine.” Eliza Murphy was protecting the one who inherited the Key of Abbadon’s purpose. The original purpose. Crimson robes fluttered.

            A skeletal hand pointed. “You see the trap they set for Chronos. We must allow this. I must know who hides within Murphy’s shadow. The one who took the mantle of the Night Realm.” He would have to know what body to possess. What soul to dominate.

            Black and White, they had not been chosen for such a fate. Though powerful their minds were but thimbles against the tide of the Everlasting. Ta’karr watched as fire blazed across the black of space. Countless ships. More than he could fathom.

            Heart’s blood pulsed.

The Prophecy of the Slumbering One

THE MIND WILL WANDER

THE BODY WILL ENDURE

THE WILL REINFORCES THE WALL OF THE INFINITE

REBIRTH!

THE FIRE OF LIFE CALLS OUT TO THE VOID

CONVERGENCE

HOPE EVERLASTING!

ARISING FROM THE ASHES

 

            There was more than one Convergence.

Abbadon’s ruby red eyes pinned the Typherian in place. The energy around his hands crackled. The hiss and pop reminded Ta’karr of a volcanic abyss. Fire burned at the edge of a steep cliff. Abbadon’s version of the Slumbering One flashed across the expanse of brimstone.

The Prophecy of the Slumbering One

THE MIND WILL TWIST

THE BODY WILL REFORM

THE CORRUPTION BREAKS THE WALL OF THE INFINITE

REBIRTH!

THE DECAY OF UNITY CALLS OUT TO THE VOID

CONVERGENCE

DEATH EVERLASTING!

TO CONSUME ALL!

 

            Ta’karr’s face grew pale, “Death cannot have two masters.”

            His eyes rolled back. His voice weakened. Vocal cords went raw.

            Sharp fingers twisted in his hair, “You are now my eyes. Do you wish for a better fate for your daughter? Serve me.”

            Ta’karr floated above his shell. His soul shard cradled within those crimson hands. Gold and black scrawl skittered across. One of the Three. Claimed by the Lord of Flesh. He could see the other two names.

Mordred.

Sheol.

Meathook could send those it wanted into the Night Realms.

Abbadon smiled, “Always three. No more. No less.”

           

*****

            Dexter Murphy plucked the ghostly pale threads before him.

He was deep within the Veil. Barely connected to the Night Realm. That monster had managed to get off a partial warning. The way forward was dangerous. One false move and the towers would fall. If Abbadon ever consumed his body? The visions Anna beheld would be just the beginning. His mind and soul flowed back towards his body. The smell of stone and metals greeted him. Whiskers tickled his cheek. P’tah grumbled, “Reports from my brothers and sisters grow dire of late. Abbadon will reveal himself.” The white-furred Icath paced about the Suspension Chambers. Each sarcophagus could send a soul out further than any mortal suspected.

Dexter rubbed his eyes with one palm, “We just have to make sure he inhabits Thoth.”

The broken mirror. An avatar with a defect that could save them all from Abbadon’s wrath. All Eliza had to do was take the Knife into herself. Not an easy task. At the center of the room, a clear sphere floated. A piece of the Ur.

They would have to coordinate with the past, present, and future all at once.

A familiar face winked into existence. Her silver hair was white at the temples.

Silver Fox noted, “Now comes the fun part!”

Dexter replied, “No worries! Just have to prevent the end of all Creation and the Reincarnation process!”

Eliza said gently, “Sight is always clearer near the end.”

Dexter nodded. The threads that connected him to his sister no matter the time period hummed. He knew what she meant. This course would not change. But they could breathe on the embers.

*****

            Mordred greeted his brothers. Meathook disconnected the mortal shell from the instruments. Bel would never know until it was too late. Ta’karr snapped his fingers and the Urraden med pod opened with a slight click. This false prison would no longer be of use. Meathook dragged the proxy form over to the Seer’s chair. Relinking all cords as they should be. He breathed into the corpse’s mouth. Giving it the illusion of life.

            Other civilizations called it a Sleeve. Mordred would operate it from his new abode.

            Not a true clone. One that could suck the soul from a host.

            All smoke and shadows. Unity still had a role to play. Meathook giggled. The sound made Ta’karr wince. It was tinged with madness. Of all 3? That beast had it worst. In every aspect. Green energy encased all three and they winked out of existence.

The artificial air of the ship soothed Ta’karr’s nerves. He set course. Deep within the Eternal Empire was a gate. Not to the Veil but to the Night Realm itself. They would build the armies needed. Not one’s of flesh. That they could steal. Broken soul shards had more than one use.

A faint holograph of his daughter flickered above his eyes. Safe within his HUD.

“For you. It was always for you.”

The black ring world turned within his mind. She would not serve within those depths.

*****

            Abbadon commanded the Children of Chains. Each wraith flitted through the bodies and broken soul shards resting upon the Plains of Ithix. Typherians and Humans alike strained against the crimson chains. Collected from the various wars within each universe. Places where Unity held sway. Yes, they were preparing for Chronos but they did not know what Abbadon would bring. A horde of Locusts.

            Bodies stacked upon each other like cardboard.

            The flesh mattered not.

            Each would carry a sliver of his influence. A power that Unity only dreamed of.

            Such as it was. True power wasn’t flashy. It was patient. It abided beyond the tethers of time and space. It didn’t matter how many Demis were birthed to combat him. He had already wormed his way into Eden. All the fallen would arise. Even the corpses resting within the confines of Eden.

            “Ahh. Yeshua. I shall anoint you in a crown of thorns.”

*****

            The Highest knelt at the altar. It was made of simple white marble.

            He bowed his head, “The Valley of Death Shall Arise. Warn them all.”

*****

            Anna McQuire tossed in her sleep. Images formed.

Hands poured forth from the dirt. Their faces were empty. Dressed in all manner of armor. Across all epochs. The attack would come from everywhere. Cold fingers clamped down on her throat.

            She awoke screaming.

Issue 19: Here

Issue 21: Here

The Uplift Protocol Blood Feuds: Issue 19

 

Issue 19: Just Ducky

 

            Where does the time go? Into the Three Weaves of Fate!—Old Markav Proverb

            So much of history and mythology was clouded. Towards a divine purpose yet part of me recoils at the various levels of secrecy that went into it all. It wasn’t for a lack of trust but just how devious the Red King was. To think? Unity was built up as the ultimate evil but it was a catspaw in comparison to the subversive and corrosive nature of the Red King.—Mary Herbert-Lanis

            Evil desires everything. From everyone. No quarter. It will consume itself in its quest for domination. We magi of the Arcane were careful but the Red King’s reach is long. Patient. Methodical. It was why the other side of the Arbiter was needed. Much was put on their shoulders.—Arcane Order: The Vigil Endures

            We would have our era of calm. It allowed for all of us to train, take stock, and move designs forward for our confrontation with Chronos. I would cherish the relative quiet. The raging waterfall was just beyond my peripheral vision. Waiting to swallow us whole.—Sleeping in Starlight: 1000 Year Pause

Northern Plains

Paradise Falls

           

J’anu hit the release.

The pod sidewalls rolled out. The baby was curled up under the two ducks. Their beaks tested the air. Sniffing delicately in the morning breeze. J’anu winced as the med pod syringe injected her with additional vitamins and healing properties. She hated to admit that the extra boost was soothing to her aching body.

She pointedly stared off into the distance.

She had no son.

Nothing that those crimson digits could cling to.

Or so she thought.

*****

            Trouble formed a harness. Floated the baby into the cocoon of energy. The infant yawned. His chubby fingers pressed against Trouble’s black feathers. Any potential shell host for the Red King had to be kept out of play. Except for the one that the Highest would force the Red King into. The Path would lead to its required End. No matter what Abbadon desired. He prayed that Eliza would survive the rest of her trials beyond the final window into Death’s realm. The stage was set. The players arranged across the board. The curtain had yet to cast its shadow. Gulliver nudged his brother.

            <<Easy now. Balance worry with the mission. We do our part? The timeline unfurls within proper deviations.>>

            Trouble quacked as Eliza landed. Her eyes scanned everything for miles around them.

            “No mocking triple beat. That doesn’t say enough.”

            J’anu whirled, “Now to throw us to the Red Wolves.”

            Eliza frowned, “No. Now we get your husband and put you under a protection program.”

            J’anu smirked. Her face grew hard under the rising sunlight.

            “You would protect us. We are murderers. Why even try? Your outdated honor? Compassion? Some leftover angelic programming forcing you….”

*****

            I replied sternly, “Do not mistake compassion for acceptance of your crimes. If that thing that wears your father’s face consumes you or Ta’rammon, it will be able to home in on the child through a blood bond.”

            J’anu’s face fell. I had hit a nerve. One she did not want to admit to. My Thronebearer senses didn’t lie. The faint outline of black scrawl proclaimed her as the daughter-scion to the Crimson Eye of the Void. Unity had its three avatars. Abbadon had the stronger. It would take the combined might of the future fleets to corral Chronos. To hem in all those fallen servants. Even if they didn’t know who pulled the strings.

            Trouble waddled over to sit on my head.

            <<Be seeing you!>>

            I replied, “Make sure I keep my promise!”

*****

            The greatest secret had yet to be revealed.

            For mortals? They could only perceive time within a linear fashion. The Highest worked within that model. His agents were spared the worse of the vision warps. The multitude of possibilities. Even his Weave Speakers saw the barest glimpses. Just enough to pull everyone along on the roads needed. Eliza and Dexter held a kernel. The slightest sliver of the Highest within them. Anything further would have consumed their mortal forms.

            A deep voice purred, “Ready?”

The duck brothers climbed onto the back of the mighty Icath King.

They departed in a flash of silver and white light.

J’anu slumped against the side of the medical pod.

United Terran Alliance Hub Endurance

Gilgamesh Sector

June 20^th, 3160

 

            I peered over the railing. Just as promised. The duck brothers made a beeline for me.

            I handed Gulliver the promised package, “I remember. Special Order 357!”

            The black box slipped into his bag of holding. I patted them both on their feathered heads. “Take good care of each other.” I had missed them terribly but we had to keep all potential Red Hosts as far away as possible. Until the 3^rd Phase. Then they could bring the boy back into the regular world. The silver-white light rippled once more.

            Mom nudged me, “This has something to do with that 3^rd death business.”

            I nodded, “The Highest needs me to draw the Red King out.”

            It wasn’t going to be pretty.

            Our time of relative peace was coming to a close. I flicked the Covenant network online.

            Endless streams of information flowed across my Ur-enhanced membranes.

            “Chronos won’t know what hit him. Jacob and Samantha should be in position by now.”

            100 odd years to go before the reemergence of the Chronos Fleets.

            Doc pressed a monitor slip across my forehead, “The Highest is up to his old….”

            I pressed my lips together. Winked at them both.

            “Just remember! I know nothing! Absolutely nothing.”

            Dad walked across the grav plating segments. The construction was hurtling past. A regular beehive of activity. He clapped me on the shoulder. “Ever wonder what a simple timeline would be like?” I leaned back on my heels. Hooked my hands behind my head, “I’d love to see that. Just watch stars being born. Talk about the weather.”

            Nothing was simple when it came to the Highest. Or his fallen brother.

            Sunset Showdown hollered across the coms, “We found it! HA! Marvin owes me a cold one!” Proctor Gansys shimmered to life in the palm of my hand. Q-T communication was bonkers. Near-instant data relay no matter where you were. Or even when you were. Explained why I had been able to dead drop a few hints or misdirection for friend and foe alike. Even though my Golden City days were behind me. I shrugged out of my House Murphy overcoat. Rolled up my sleeves and linked the Order to my HUD feed. “Alright. Let’s get down to business.” I flew over to the outer green shell of the ship.

            Jupiter cut in, <<I was wondering when we’d get to the X-Tier models!>>

            Jacob noted, “How long until the balloon goes up?”

            I replied, “Another 105 or so years.”

            Eliza Odessen, her hair shock white, face lined with age materialized behind my eyelids, “Even with the new prolog procedures? I cannot live out the rest of the time awake. I will go into the Deep Sleep. I request…”

            I replied quickly, “Granted. I already set aside a sarcophagus within the Golden Hall.”

            Since Project Overhead began we had gathered 1000s of universes under our growing umbrella. I prayed it would be enough. The multiverse was vast but only so many had the individuals needed to combat Chronos. Others would remain behind the shields we had erected. Those vulnerable to the Red King’s call. Places without magic. Without demis. Without space travel.

            We had to hold the line. I linked to my past self through the Ur-Flow.

            >>Argos and Cerberus will need you. Do not let Ta’rammon perform the blood ritual.<<

            The Red King would use him as a conduit otherwise.

            Their fates were for another path. One that would be vital.

*****

            Cerberus hurled himself against his foe.

His outer form crackled with divine energy. Argos ran interference. Multiple wounds pulsed on the outer form of their enemy. Ta’rammon shocked them all as he hurled the Light Shaman daggers towards the multi-armed backside. The metal sank into flesh. It bellowed as the divine energy sizzled against its outer fleshly membrane. Nargus Samata howled. Crimson wings sprouted from its sides. The concussion of dark energy struck Argos, Cerberus, and Ta’rammon. The two wolves were hurled back. The solid thump against the rocky surface dazed both. Tattoos glowed a dark purple across Ta’rammon’s exposed chest and arms.

He could use this fallen avatar. He pulled out his khopesh.

The metal gleamed vermillion as he approached the dark-winged demon.

He spoke in ancient Egyptian, “I shall consume you.”

*****

            Nargus Samata noted the human’s stance. The way the muscles bunched under the shoulder blades.  Dark Scrawl curled about their feet.  Approach. Perfect. Another mortal puppet for the Red King. A thunder burst of sound echoed.

It hissed, “Thronebearer!”

*****

            Dexter hid within his sister’s shadow.

 Mimicking every movement she made. He had to cut Ta’rammon’s strings. The threads that bound his dark magics to the Void. The Eternal Empire ruler had other means. He just never accessed them. His body was too corrupted for Light Shamman's to use but they would have another purpose for him and his Urraden wife. A Samata was at the center of the massive cavern. His sister’s power flowed over Cerberus. The wolf’s head turned. His tail thumped as he rose shakily to his feet, “I had forgotten the touch of the Red Hand.”

Eliza said, “Give this to Argos. I’ll trip up the shattered mirror!”

Dexter's eyes darted to the sigils on the walls. He warned his sister through their link.

She thought he was with their father.

He couldn’t let this thing warn Abbadon.

*****

            I winced as the smell hit my nostrils. Brimstone.

            I burrowed under the earth. Stone was no barrier. Above me I could hear the rising heartbeats of Argos and Ta’rammon. Cerberus was cloaked! His wet nose tickled the lower part of my ear and he melded with the shadows. No, within my shadow. I filed that away for later. The air changed. Human blood. Within seconds I burst through the thin layer of dirt remaining. Leathery black wings slapped my face. I smiled, “Nice of you to drop in!”

I poured Thronebearer energy into my fist. Just like Dexter showed me.

            Bone face howled as I hit its stomach. It spat white blood from its jaws. I skipped back.

            Its beady eyes narrowed. Into twin green slits.

            I could almost hear my brother say, “Now it can’t phone home. Good work.”

            I flexed my fingers. Tension ran through my body. It was not my own.

*****

            Thomas Murphy finished the last symbol. The blue ink tried upon Dexter’s forehead.

            Hephaestus and his men stood guard. This was no longer the world of the All-Father. Tarkanan was dead. High above the outer layers of the machine world pulsed. It was the first of its kind. The reason why the All-Father had taken an interest. One of the fingers of Abbadon. The outer golden rings locked. Followed by the silver. White. Black. Until they formed into a sphere floating above their heads. The black marble slab rose another 3 feet. Dexter’s face relaxed. The soul projection was complete.

            Soul Shard pairs. They could communicate beyond the Veil.

            Thomas knelt.

            Rested his bracers against his son’s chest.

            Arcana flowed.

*****

            I launched a series of jabs.

The outer bone cracked. Hairline fractures crisscrossed against its chest as I knocked it back through the hardened rock. Away from the cavern system. Fresh air hit my face as we emerged through the cliffside. No blood connection. Ta’rammon would not get his meal.

Obsidian wings lashed out. My fingertips grew cold.

These were not my powers.

Dexter’s voice flowed.

>>I have to cut off its soul shard points. Stolen from the Night Realm.<<

I had no clue what the Night Realm was but I trusted my brother. I allowed him control of my hands. My arms followed. The creature’s face transformed. Three long black tounges shot out. Quick. Scaled. Serpentine. Here I thought Unity was the mastery of mockery. Its voice snapped.

Velvet soft, “Thronebearer. It matters not. Abbadon will devour all. You only slow the inevitable!”

My left hand brushed against the primary artery that ran from its neck to curl around its spine. Its arms collapsed. This was Dexter’s role. I knew it without asking. There were energies beyond the realm of Life.

*****

            Ta’rammon jumped. Using the edges of the hole to propel himself forward. As the clean air hit his chest he dodged to the side as Black tendrils rained down from the sky. Bits of milky white blood followed. He grimaced. This was one of the Lord of Bone. It didn’t work for Unity. His father had mentioned this. It served a darker master. One spoken of in whispers. A master of Flesh. He had not wanted to believe. Unity was horrific enough. Ta’rammon had his limits. This was madness. He whirled as the two wolves bit down on his arms. Cocooning him in energy. His face went slack as magic paralyzed him. Each muscle was frozen. His head bowed. The sounds of battle receded.

*****

            J’anu glared. The Wolves of Elysium’s Gate landed before her. Cerberus and Argos bit down hard. Leaving faint blue scars on Ta’rammon’s biceps. Argos padded forward. His lupine face mere inches from her own, <<When the Voice cracks? Run.>>

            She snapped, “I decide my fate.”

            Cerberus agreed, <<Shall you serve or shall you fall?>>

            J’anu pulled Ta’rammon into the medpod.

            It sealed shut with a hiss.

            “I care not for your judgment.”

            Only the wind answered her.

*****

                Nargus Samata shuddered. The Thronebearer of Life shouldn’t be able to access the Necrotic Lines! Its voice burned yet his signals hit a wall. The energy was akin to Abaddon's but foreign. True Death! No.

            The One Hidden. Who would walk the Path of Serpents?

            It had never been about Eliza Murphy.

            Abbadon’s replacement had arrived.

            Nargus Samata shouted, “Ark’ah’kul!”

            Hands moved through his chest. His connection to the Entropic Plane shattered. With the last bit of its hideous strength, it managed two words past the barrier between living and dead.

*****

            Mordred clenched his fists upon the crimson throne, “Death Walks.”

Issue 18: Here

Issue 20: Here