Monday, November 21, 2022

The Uplift Protocol The Ouroborous Chain: Issue 30


Issue 30: And Stay Down!

    Dreams are the mirrors into the soul. What remains is up to you. If one is wise you will guard against the truth and lies revealed with each step!--Bardaxian Scholar Leaps-Into-The-Fray.

    I know they will find a way to counteract my activities. Much like a scientist experimenting with elements eventually the Oversoul will develop a way to track me. I must be ready.--The Dreamweaver.

    He’s only revealed a sliver but that was enough to ensure my loyality. His vision is all encompassing. I have him to thank for my new Form. One that can withstand the pet Thronebearer Demis of the Oversoul.--Lucifer

    Which shall you follow? All Roads meet. What happens after that? Fate only knows.--The Unseen Archives Vol 8

Planet Ylish 8

Starpits of Arvix

Urraden Empire

    Snake Charmer rammed his dagger into the Keeper Drone’s left orb. This was merely a warm up. The crowd jeered. Pale faces leered from the stands around the pit. One blood red moon loomed. A cliche fight for the masses.

    Lucifer’s claws scraped against the metallic surface.

    His current mortal cover that of a Tovar. A replicated lizard race. Marked with Urraden technology. His lower jaw extended. Bright yellow beams engulfed the three other drones. Snake Charmer dashed forward. His blade met the Fallen Thronebearer’s claws.

    Lucifer parried.

    High above Medusa continued to search.

    The dreams compelled them all.

    Ta’rammon slid the key into the slot. Gears shifted. Mirrors were dangerous. The way Lucifer’s face twisted when talking of it? This was not the will of Abbadon. The fallen one had been offered a better deal. J’anu’s voice tore through his cranium. >>Medusa slipped up.<< She pulled at the material by the doorway. Hurried footsteps trampled past.

    Rough voices exclaimed, “Lock down the fighter pits! No one gets in or out!”

    Ta’rammon tied his sash around her waist. His expression feral.

    Flecks of purple fire pulsed. Every few seconds another pulse.

    Not a good sign. They stood back to back.

    The Dreamweaver paused. He tugged on the cord between the Eternal Empire rulers.

    Just enough to give them warning. A fleeting glimpse into the wider truth of the worlds. The Wall and its Layers. His Convergence Cycle mortal body floated within the void of space. Slowly regenerating. It had taken countless cycles. Twisting family lines. Stealing the proper sequences from various Edens. The trick wasnt to imbue each body or host form with incredible power. No, linking them through each cycle via dreams. That was key. Unlike the Intez? He didn't have to share proper information with anyone.

    Each piece would grow to a pinnacle within their generation.

    Just enough influence to bleed knowledge. Mastery of each layer.

    Wood was a natural conductor into the Dream realm. Place the right marks on each piece then smoke it within a fire. A gateway was formed. The Weave was such a place but it was not the true heart of his territory. Eliza Murphy had brushed against this truth. For the Dreams could follow into every area known to mortals. Or gods. The Du’at. Even the dead remained locked into the form of man. Even now he gave orders to his shell.

    One day she would become the Silver Fox of legend. Said to walk within the Three Roads.

    It would be a delight to wear such a skin.

    He only had to separate the myth from the reality.

    The dreams of the future inhabitants of Eden supplied him with intelligence that Abbadon could never access. All paths lead to one final confrontation. One that he would win.

    Threads built into a song.

    He wouldn't need to steal the Tears.

    They would come to him. In time.

    A distant fire warmed Thoth’s bones. Three thrones floated before him. One black. One white. The third blazed with purple fire. He would control all three. Three figures sat upon them. Faces he knew well. For the dreams never lied. Not to him. Not to all those who followed.

    Thoth circled. White for the Low Road. Black for the Middle Road. Purple for the High Road. The voices trickled in. “The Foundation began not with Elysium. First was Eden. Bright and whole.”

    Eden had never been a planet. Or a universe.

    It had been the birthplace of Dreams.

    Thoth listened.

    A place that Abbadon never touched. All had been bound to…

    A woman with bright yellow eyes and silver hair pressed a finger to his lips, “Shhh! Not yet. We have much work to do.”

    He knew her.

    That heart shaped face. Morgana spread her arms wide, “Yes. We walk between the corridors of dreams. You and I.”

    A deeper magic pulled at him.


    Morgana brushed the wild hair from his face. Her eyes blazed. Thoth smiled, “I am the Lord of the Black Scrawl.” The Dark Seer curtsied. He raised his blades high. They had never been a gift from Unity. Earth was not the price to be paid. A blood red stag circled. Its black orbs sucked in the moonlight. Lucifer’s dream form. Thoth reached out with Hunin. Lucifer bowed his head. Black horns brushed the ground. “I name you my right hand.”

    He turned to Morgana, “I must choose a left.”

    Black Scrawl swirled around her.

    “The one you seek is already bound to Abbadon. Cut that leash.”


    Vixrex called out, <<We seek the ties that bind! What can undo such magics?!>>

    A pool of dark liquid rose between the three.

    Faces rose. Eliza Murphy. Her face harried. Sir Avalon. The final visage made Thoth clap his hands merrily. Thomas Murphy. The dreams whispered.

    Open a path to Abbadon’s Night Realm. They will do what heroes do best. Liberate.

    The final words were for him alone.

    The Pelt of the Fox will be yours.

    Ta’rammon held the mirror aloft. The purple fire seeped into its darkened surface.

    J’anu bit back a scream as a figure clothed in silver flame beckoned.

    What did that girl scout call it? Silver flame? The figure pointed as another passageway formed. As they passed, her words of warning rang out, “It's not who he is. It's what he wears. As a sleeve to a mind. An endless refrain.”

    The phrasing stuck with her.

    Ta’rammon phased through the wall.

    Clever hiding spot.

    J’anu joined him.

    Cold fire seeped into her arm, “Beware the Path. Black Scrawl pours from a hollowed cup.”

    Medusa cursed. This palace was a labyrinth. Guards shouted, “This way!” Their twisted limbs were wooden. A race of dead trees. Did the universe think itself clever?! Find the mirror. That’s what Lucifer said. Medusa spat.

    “Why did I even agree to this?!”

Planet Ylish 8

Lunar Shadow

Urraden Empire

    Talon One orbited high above. Pyra tapped her fingers against the armrest.

    What was taking them? With Lucifer this should be a simple smash and grab.

    She yawned. Her eyelids drooped.

    As her breath evened out black threads tightened about her body.

    The Dreamweaver waited until the demi woman’s soul touched the Dream.

    He planted the notion.

    Using her own voice.

    There is a way out. I’ll use Lucifer and the others to find it. I will survive.

    It wasn’t far off from what she believed. He would keep them together.

    Even pebbles could ripple across the water of the divide.

    I had to make them understand without alerting Thoth. That was the safest way to think of him. Each piece on the board was moved into position. J’anu’s crimson orbs lanced across my outer form. Her anger and distrust evident. Using the sleeves allowed for a barrier to the Dream threads. What we had all called the Black Scrawl. The Mirror Networks. Light and Dark. Put into place by him.

    It had taken the Oversoul and Highest a while to put the dots together.

    Dark Matter sight. It was still a part of me.

    All the obfuscations.

    The Unseen Archive would reveal the truth.

    We would entrap the Lord of Chains.

    My past, present and future merged together via the Ur-Stone. My memories and dreams muddled on purpose. Every sign and portent building to this final cycle to fix Eden. The realm of Dreams. Before the sleeve’s temporal power source faded I said, “If you wish to alleviate your fate within the Ninth? Seek the source. Not all threads gleam within moonlight.” Ta’rammon frowned. His eyes narrowed.

    “J’anu, keep the pep pills handy.”

    I could see Urraden considering the words. I added, “Remember the fate of the Third Eye.”

    She paled.

    Based on what the Unseen Order indicated?

    He could control waking dreams.

Issue 29: Here

Interlude Brick Upon Brick: Here

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