《The First Testament: Rebirth》 Prologue + Chapter 1: Half century Power Nap. Prologue: Congratulations dear reader. By opening this book, you have taken your first step to understanding magic. This will also be your last step. Unless you can do magic. Then you are a prick for buying this book. Magic cannot be understood. It is simple as that. As one of the top magical researchers in the world, I can tell you that magic is neither a science nor a form of technology. It is the complete opposite. Science and technology forces us to obey the universe¡¯s rules. In magic, the opposite happens. We break the rules of nature, and the universe is forced to comply with our whims. It cannot be understood through conventional ways like reading a book. Then what exactly will this book teach you? Rest assured, despite not knowing how it works, and never being able to use it, there is still much to learn about magic. Through this book, you will learn about Merlin¡¯s Circle of magic, the most recognized magic classification system. You will read about the different races, the Edenists, Nihiles and humans. You will understand Heaven¡¯s and the Constellation¡¯s role in the universe, and the timeline of the world(s) from Genesis to Exodus. You will know all things related to magic, from Mystic Artifacts like Excalibur to Mystic Beasts like Minotaurs. No one knows why God created magic, or why he hasn¡¯t wiped out the Nihiles. Nobody has seen him since Exodus. Maybe he died. It is no secret that 3 of 8 Apostles died as well. It doesn¡¯t really matter though. Heaven has refused to interfere with mortal matters since Genesis¡­ sort of. But we will get to that later. Whatever the case, the important thing is that you have made me 20 credits richer. And I have made you much more knowledgeable of the world or rather, worlds that we live in. Magic is confusing, unpredictable and sometimes downright random. How it works is completely dependent on the user. That¡¯s the first thing and most important thing that you must understand. Prologue from A Mundane Human¡¯s Understanding of Magic: what¡¯s Hocus and what¡¯s Pocus By Dr. Mithras Aubade ----------------------- Exodus: The event in which the dimension of Eden was completely destroyed and following a Nihile invasion, causing hundreds of millions of Edenists to flee to the human inhabited world of Sol. This event marks the first time the Apostles made a public appearance since Genesis, with the circumstances allowing the Apostles to ignore their Vow of Observance and aid their escape. Chapter 1: Half Century Power Nap Death flexes his fingers and he watches in fascination as they dance. It has been far too long since he¡¯s had a body. 50 years is a long time to spend in Limbo. Floating around in the nothingness was very, very boring. He had hoped that Magic or Nature would be there, seeing how they had perished earlier, but it seems that Limbo is an every-man-to-himself kind of affair. With no one to pass the time with, he had spent that 50 years thinking. And mourning. 50 years is a long time to spend just on thinking. And mourning. So he thought about everything. He thought about his time hiding in Sol. He thought about the battles of Genesis. But he spent the most amount of time thinking about God. Recalling every sagely piece of advice and cryptic yet wise words God had given him before the Nihile invasion of Eden. ¡°Why I made them so weak?¡± The man smiles in a fatherly fashion, ¡°They are strong my friend, just that they possess a different strength from you. You should watch them more; maybe spend more time with them, before you can understand their potential.¡± He silently snorts. He spent two thousand years amongst them. There is nothing strong about humans. Weak, fragile, short-lived. He fails to see the potential in them in which God did. And that is his problem. He does not want to believe God was wrong. But he has spent eons watching them from Heaven. He has spent two thousand years on Earth living with them, hiding from Heaven. And they have only made mistake after mistake. They slaughter their own kind and erode their home. They enslave their fellow human beings and torture them for sport. Truly, their bigotry knows no bounds. Even the Edenists, with their petty squabbling between each other, kept intra-race fighting to a minimum. They are a short-sighted species, and what lessons they learn from their mistakes are mostly forgotten when the next generation of humans take over. They are in short, unimpressive. Yet they have survived over 3000 years. There is something within them, something that He saw. The potential He had spoken of. He is determined to find out what it is before deciding his next course of action. He looks at the reflection in front of him. The eyes that stare back are cold, empty, devoid of life. The body is scrawny and thin, betraying the monstrous power that is an Apostle that inhabited it. ¡°I am an Apostle no more.¡± Was. Was an Apostle. He winces as he remembers the venomous words he hurled at Him and the others. He has renounced that title, thrown it back into the face of the One that had bestowed it upon him. He had left Him. He had walked out on his Creator, his Father, and had abandoned the closest thing he had to a family. He remembers the face He wore when he had repaid His patience and love with betrayal. The normally stoic yet kind face was twisted with sadness and disappointment. The pain in God¡¯s eyes when he slammed the doors of the Throne Room behind his back and walked out the Pearl Gates. It haunts him now. For two thousand years, he drifted and hid from the world, blending in as a human, hiding from the eyes of Heaven, while he endlessly tried to make up for the wrong Heaven had done against the Terrans. In the end, he broke one of the few rules God had given him, and he had been more than willing to pay the price. ¡°The dead. They were not meant to live again.¡± He had sinned. But how could he not? The regrets. The wails of anguish. The memories of the damned. He had fallen into temptation and read the lives of the souls that had ventured into his domain. When he read, he became. He became the millions upon millions of Terrans, slaughtered by the other Edenists. He became the Girl who had watched her younger brother and parents beheaded right in front of her. Before being violated, then killed by the same perpetrators. He became the Soldier, who had watched his best friend and lover die in his arms, whose sorrow had driven him to suicide seconds later. He became the Chancellor, who had watched the mighty Terran nation he had been chosen to lead brought down to its knees in matter of weeks. He had wept, kneeling in deference and gratefulness, as he had thanked the Apostle of Life for smuggling the ten thousand babies and the rest of the Arcana into Sol. He had felt that last burst of pride and hope as he watched the Horoscope and the Big Dipper on it take off into the atmosphere, holding a bloodied sword in his hand, and a vampire head in the other. Then things went black as he looked down and saw a spear pierce through his torso. How could he not have given them a second chance? To enjoy the simple pleasures that life never gave them. That was what Sanctum was. It was a place, the afterlife, where souls could enjoy and exist to the fullest without the need for survival. It was a world of abundance, solely hedonistic in nature, to let the souls enjoy the happiness that life had robbed them. It was meant as a haven for the victims of life. The Wronged. Where souls could come to together and share about their past lives, and watch their descendants live the life they had been deprived of. It had cost him all his Apostle powers except for the Scythe, but to him, it was a small sacrifice. For two thousand years, he hid from the eyes of Heaven and Him, trying to build Sanctum and make it as perfect as he could. For two thousand years the Apostle of Death didn¡¯t claim a single soul. At least not until the end. When he had been forced to bring down his blade onto the very One that had created him. In that moment, as Death stared into the Creator¡¯s dying eyes, he realized. He realized why he was created. He understood that his one true purpose was to kill. The Scythe had been built to kill anything it touched. Nihiles, Edenists or humans. Even God Himself. There would come a time, God knew, where His death would be needed for the sake of the worlds¡¯ survival. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. That time came when the Nihiles had attacked Eden, and had somehow overtaken God¡¯s own body. It had been a trap, under the pretense of a peace treaty, the Nihile Lords were allowed into Eden to meet with God and the Apostles. Once again, he took up the mantle of responsibility that had been his since Creation and returned to the rest of his brethren and his Creator to greet their old enemies. He had returned God¡¯s open arms with silence and a refusal to acknowledge Him. Then the Nihiles acted, taking advantage of God¡¯s kindness and naivety to claim his body as their own. It had been a complete massacre. A war on a scale the worlds had never seen since the days of Genesis. It made the Terran Purge look like a water balloon fight. Millions of Nihiles had rushed into Eden through the Gates, bringing down civilizations millions of years old. They had claimed Eden as their own, destroying nations, capturing lives and turning them into slaves. They had destroyed millions of years of labor in manner of hours. They had no choice but to intervene, no one else could. So Death fought again. He remembered when he called upon his Reapers to aid the fight, the awe and shock that appeared on the faces of the other Apostles. It quickly turned into disapproval and anger when they realized what he had done. ¡°You broke the rule.¡± But there was nothing that could be done against it, not when they were fighting against the 7 Sins and the creator of the Universe Himself. It proved to be fruitless, even with thousands of the history¡¯s strongest under his command. Nature had died, trying to protect the fleeing Edenists, and Magic had led the counterattack, only to be struck down by the One that had created him. Fate was incapacitated, unable to use whatever future knowledge he had foreseen to aid their efforts. The rest were spent, all their energy and powers channeled into the portal that brought the Edenists to Sol in the evacuation. There was no point in doing so when the Nihiles would head there next. ¡°Use the Scythe¡± In the end, it had been God¡¯s strength that had saved them all once again. It was Him that was strong enough to momentarily break through whatever mental and spiritual barrier he was trapped in. It was Him that had seen what had needed to be done. It was Him that had asked for his own death. And he had given it to Him. Immediately. He had been so angry. Angry at God for not lifting a finger during the atrocity known as the Terran Purge. Angry at Him for being such a na?ve fool who believed the lies of the Nihiles even after he¡¯d left them. Genesis had been the result of that. And then this. But most of all, he had been angry at himself, for being so weak and not standing up for what he felt was right. He had silently watched the Terran Purge from the sidelines while Life had smuggled the survivors out. He had done nothing during the countless human tragedies during his two thousand years on Earth. He could¡¯ve helped. But he didn¡¯t. He was angry, not at his lack of strength and power, but his overabundance of it, that he was too weak to use it. The fact that he was so apprehensive to use it, that he was constantly afraid. What if he was wrong? Wisdom was about knowing when not to use one¡¯s power, rather than the contrary. He could just as easily destroy the world as he could save it. ¡°Use the Scythe¡± He had heard it as an order and in the heat of the battle and drowned in his rage, he followed it to the letter. It was only when he held God¡¯s dissolving form, that he had realized what he had done, God¡¯s death slowing the swirling typhoon of emotions in his mind. He had killed Him. His Mentor, his Father, his Friend. He had slain the very One that had breathed life into him and almost everything else in the universe. He would have stayed there for an eternity, clinging on to the prone form of the Heavenly Father, if it weren¡¯t for the last words that were uttered out of his mouth. ¡°Take care of them, will you? Just like you did for the dead. All of my children, and my brethren¡± The fading form of God placed an increasingly transparent hand on his chest, ¡°¡­ I wish you all the best¡­ Candidate.¡± And then his soul completely disappeared, vanquished by the cursed Scythe, the weapon that only destroyed souls. His weapon that had been given to him by the One he had just slain. Everything went white after that. It is said it was the subsequent release of energy that had completely destroyed Eden. With no soul to tether it, whatever energy and power God had within Him was released in an instant, and the whole world of Eden had been engulfed in an instant. The next thing he knew, he was in Limbo. Alone. God¡¯s last words kept ringing in his mind, and compounded by the weight of his actions, he had been in mental disarray for days. The sudden influx of emotions that kept on crushing him with its weight did not help in the organizing process. It was probably a few days later, that he managed to process what had happened. 1. He had killed God. 2. God had called him ¡®Candidate¡¯ afterwards. He had no idea what a Candidate was. But God had evidently found out about Sanctum, and that was troubling. Take care of them, will you? Just like you did for the dead. It troubled him more that God seemed to approve. Why would He? He had broken one of His Commandments. Slowly, he had reached deep into the recesses of his soul, and deep within, he found his forbidden creation. He had heaved a sigh of relief. Sanctum. It was still there. But something still felt¡­ off. He remembered reaching deeper, feeling the metaphysical construct, and found that its entire nature had been changed. Before, the construct had been rooted completely within his soul, a creation of his power and mind. But the new feeling he received was something much more¡­ grand. Sanctum had been tempered at its very core. By whom? Only he knew of its nature, along with Fate and¡­God. Only one person could have done such a thing. And he had just killed Him. Then he realized that this was something God had left for him, and only him. God¡¯s legacy to him. When had He done it? In the middle of the battle? Or while he was taking his last few breaths? He had been filled with trepidation when he began to access it. What would he find? The cold bloodied souls of the dead that had once lived here? A vast area of nothingness? ¡°The dead. They were not meant to live again.¡± Instead, he found a whole new world. He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. He has mourned enough. Wallowing in the past would do no good. There is much to be done in the present. The time in Limbo has taken its toll on his mind, and he is mentally and emotionally drained. He looks at the reflection again, casting the naked body staring at him a look of doubt. God had called him Candidate. He looks at the white urinals lined up behind him in the mirror, and is painfully reminded of the columns of Angels that had done the same when he was still an Apostle. But he had renounced that title, and God gave him a new one. Candidate. He¡¯s never heard of it, yet he knows the title holds much more than it seems to. The moment he heard it, he had felt as if the World had hiccupped, and a weird feeling had passed through him. But he is weak, and he has made far too many mistakes for a title like that. He knows he is not worthy of the title. Yet. He smiles, but for now, he supposes it wouldn¡¯t hurt to reclaim the title of Apostle. ¡°Take care of them, will you? Just like you did for the dead. All of my children, and my brethren... I wish you all the best, Candidate¡± God had put His faith in him. He had seen it when he accessed Sanctum, and he prays to whatever powers that be after His passing, that God¡¯s last decision would be as wise as His previous ones. Whatever the case, he will fulfill His dying request. He will believe in humanity as He did, and he will protect them, along with the Edenists. Looking around the dirty bathroom however, then back at the bare reflection in the mirror, Death frowns. It would be best to find a place for him to get settled first. As well as find some clothes. Chapter 2: Suit up Apostle: One of the followers of God, whose authorities are only superseded by His alone. Independent of Heaven, each apostle represents a fundamental concept of the Universe: Life, Death, Time, Space, Nature, Magic, Craft, Fate. After Genesis, they agreed not interfere in Eden¡¯s and Sol¡¯s affairs unless Nihile presence was confirmed. However, it seems that their Vow of Observance is no longer in effect post-Exodus, with many taking active roles in Sol, some even leading nations. Chapter 2: Suit up He hates this part of the job. It¡¯s so¡­ messy. Sighing, he looks at the results of the blood test, then quintuple-checks the picture on his datapad with the severed head in the transparent bag. Brown eyes? Check. Blond hair? Gold as the Sun. A face that sported the most arrogant grin in the world? He studies the face that is locked in an expression of pain. Strange, that¡¯s missing¡­ Whatever the case, there is a 67% chance that this is Dante Bloodfang. Or at least this is the head of Dante Bloodfang. His body ¨C what remains of it ¨C lies slumped against the wall behind him, a torso missing its left arm, the rest of it blown to bits. He grimaces. That is going to be a tad harder to identify. It had been a long fight. Yet, a few doubts linger in his mind. It seemed as though Dante hadn¡¯t learnt anything from their last encounter. He¡¯d even gone the same way- a graviton explosion catching him off guard. He highly doubts a professional assassin like him wouldn¡¯t have planned and adapted for an opponent whose abilities he knew about. He certainly would have. Slowly, the corners of his lips bend downward into a frown. Last time, the odds were 30%, now it is more than double that. But it still isn¡¯t 100%. ¡°Spades.¡± His team leader¡¯s words jolt him back to reality. Whatever the case, they have finished the job they were assigned. He turns to see Joker standing at the doorway, gesturing towards the Flutterbug waiting outside. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t we wait for a bit?¡± he wipes the sweat off his brow, ¡°It¡¯s really hot.¡± The Middle Eastern heat is really no joke after the whole global warming thing. Whatever he sees through the windows is distorted and shimmering, the light rays refracting from the expanding air. ¡°Can¡¯t we wait another 30 minutes for sundown?¡± He tries to reach a compromise. The stern glare Joker gives him tells him that they can be standing on the Sun itself, and he will still have to outside. Grumbling, Spades swings the bag ¨C and its still-bleeding contents ¨C over his shoulder with practiced ease. He feels a little uncomfortable at just how natural that action feels. The heat of the Middle East hits him before the sunlight does. He feels like a melting Chillstick. He raises his hand to block it off, while using his powers to repel a fraction of the infra-red radiation from the Sun. The effect is instantaneous and a sigh of content escapes his lips. Just like home. Home. He hasn''t thought about Hope City for a while, what with all the missions and assassinations he¡¯s had to do, but recent events have quickly corrected that. ¡°Spades!¡± He knows that voice, and his worst fears come true when he sees its owner standing next to the Flutterbug. He groans internally. Urgh. Why is she here? Aren¡¯t they supposed to meet up in Hope City? ¡°Don¡¯t ignore me! I know you can hear me under that mask of yours!¡± So can the people in the Oriental Federation, you annoying banshee. ¡°What do you want, Diamond?¡± If the scorching tone his voice was laced with hurt her, the redheaded girl waving at him from the Bug doesn¡¯t show it. ¡°Is that how you treat your only friend after not seeing each other for 2 years?¡± And it had been a good, quiet, peaceful 2 years. He misses it already. The sound of engines roaring to life causes him to focus his eyes back to the front, straight into the back of Joker¡¯s sweat-drenched outfit. He smirks. He loves being a metahuman and the power it gives him. The control of gravity and, with it, antigravity can be used in numerous ways. Such as reflecting the Sun¡¯s heat. ¡°Hot, ain¡¯t it, Joker?¡± ¡°Shut up and keep walking¡± The rude reply only serves to booster his ego some more. He nods in acknowledgement to Queen, who has been waiting by the door next to Diamond. ¡°I¡¯ll take that.¡± She returns it with a grin, before grabbing the bag off his hands. He follows Joker into the 4-winged Flutterbug, while drowning out Diamond¡¯s incessant chatter of how lonely and bored she has been the past 2 years without her ¡°precious fellow aces¡±. ¡°Diamond.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Yes, Spades?¡± ¡°Please shut up.¡± Then he sits down, closes his eyes, and turns on the music within his mask to maximum volume, all while ignoring the expression of mock hurt on her face. He¡¯s tolerated this noisemaker for 8 years. He can do it again for one flight. It is halfway through liftoff that he realizes something is wrong. It is too quiet. He cracks one eye open to peek beside him, only to see Diamond looking ahead of her uncomfortably, her hands pressed against her lap, as though the Director himself is sitting across them. Curiosity gets the better of him, and Spades almost jumps back at what he sees. A Goddamned Spook. He doesn¡¯t understand how a man wearing a suit and sunglasses has managed to get so close to him without him noticing, but that¡¯s how they worked. Those trained in Hope City¡¯s intelligence units are masters in the arts of stealth and subtlety. You don¡¯t notice them until they plunge a knife into your back. Sometimes, you don¡¯t notice that either. He takes off his SAM¡¯s ¨CStandard Army Metasuit ¨C mask, setting it by his side, before raising his eyebrow to the intelligence officer. ¡°Alright, just give it to me straight.¡± He sighs. ¡°What does the Director want us to do this time?¡± In response, the slight dip in the Spook¡¯s gaze prompts him to look at his lap, where a datapad lies, completely unnoticed by him until then. Goddamn. Those things aren¡¯t light by any means. He looks up again at the Spook, who now has the barest trace of a smirk on his face. Masters of subtlety and stealth indeed. ¡°Spades, we¡¯ve been redeployed back early.¡± This time, Diamond¡¯s voice holds none of the mischief or chirpiness it does earlier. Instead, it carries a solemn tone, one she reserves only in the middle of missions and assignments. Redeployment Tch. He scowls. And he¡¯s just gotten used to working with the Hunters ¨C Hope City¡¯s hitman squad ¨C and men twice his age. If the Director is bringing them back earlier, it means something big is going to happen. He isn¡¯t looking forward to the new mission. He isn¡¯t keen on going back to school of all things. ¡°It¡¯s not an ordinary school. It¡¯s run by the Constellation.¡± ¡°That means¡­ that it¡¯s going to be very, very, very difficult. And some might not make it through alive.¡± He remembers how the Director had said it. He hadn¡¯t worn his Director/politician face, nor his casual and jaunty face. He had worn his all-business, I¡¯ve-seen-my-whole-race-slaughtered-before-my-eyes, taken-thousands-of-lives-of-my-own, his The-Magician face. That worries him. Schools aren¡¯t meant to kill you. Schools are meant to be boring as hell and make you want to kill yourself. His musings are suddenly broken by the sound of glass breaking, and the occupants of the Bug immediately dive onto the cabin floor to take cover. Are they under attack? At 500 metres above the ground? ¡°Goddamit!¡± The curse flies out of Joker¡¯s mouth with almost as much force as his window-shattering punch does. Spades follows his glare, before letting lose a swear himself. ¡°That¡­ is pretty disgusting¡± is all Diamond can make out at the scene before her. Dante¡¯s head ¨C no, it isn¡¯t fair to call it his anymore ¨C was morphing. He watches in morbid fascination as the face contorts and changes shape, becoming square-ish rather than long. The sun-kissed hair is slowly fading to gray, and the brown eyes transitions to a lifeless blue. By the time it is done, it is unrecognizable. Again. A collective wave of anger and disappointment can be felt around the small compartment of the Flutterbug. Until Joker grabs the bag with a cry of rage and flings it out the window, breaking another one. Some smirk, others shake their head. The Spook, as usual, has no change in expression. Diamond on the other hand, has her mouth agape at the brutal display. He ignores her subsequent speech about respecting the dead and destruction of evidence, and follows the head¡¯s arching trajectory with his eyes as it sails into the desert below. That¡¯s when he spies the figure standing atop the ruins of a village in the middle of the desert. He can¡¯t see the eyes, but blond hair? Gold as the Sun. A face that sports the most arrogant grin in the world? Undoubtedly so. He is waving to them, sunlight reflecting off his pearl-white teeth as he grins. He is mocking them. Then, in a gust of sand, he disappears. From the sound of the armrests breaking next to him, he is sure Joker has seen the Vampire as well. He settles into his seat, as he listens to King whine about ¡°going on another freaking wild goose chase¡±. ¡­ Maybe, reassignment isn¡¯t so bad after all. Chapter 3: Farewell Party The Constellation: An independent group that consists of all races. Members of this group are called Asters, Novas and Supernovas, depending on their rank, and are some of the world¡¯s most powerful people, including groups such as the Big Dipper. Despite having no legal power, many states and authorities acknowledge them as the global peacekeeping force, giving their members a large degree of freedom in their actions. Until recently, admission into this group was extremely difficult, with only 0.01% or around 10 applicants succeeding in their applications each year. With rising demand for Asters, the Constellation has implemented a school to train Aster-hopefuls, known as City of Hope¡¯s Institute of Power (CHIP) in Hope City. However, sparks of controversy surrounds the effectiveness of this programme, but these were quelled when the Generation of Supers made their public debut. However, despite having an almost guaranteed entrance rate into the Constellation, it is said that CHIP¡¯s regimen is so rigorous that death is a major concern. Chapter 3: Farewell party ¡°Zestia.¡± Said girl freezes in the middle of her stride. She knows that voice. Anyone that resides in the Vatican Haven does. The smooth melodious voice that brings comfort and reassurance to anyone that hears it is unmistakable. Yet it is laced with unbridled power. ¡°Lord Raphael.¡± She immediately turns to face the Archangel and gets to one knee, bowing in respect. ¡°You are leaving today, am I correct?¡± She looks up to see Heaven¡¯s emissary to Sol extending a hand towards her. Beautiful. She¡¯s seen him numerous times in her time in the Vatican. Yet the same word keeps ringing in her head every time she her eyes land on him. There is no other way to describe that face that smiles at her from behind the hand. ¡°Yes.¡± She takes his hand, basking in the holy feeling it radiates, and gets to her feet, letting her take a closer look at the one of God¡¯s eldest children. A mighty Archangel. Said to be the most perfect of beings, and she cannot disagree. Even though he is dressed in standard white robes with golden linings, there is no other word to describe him than beautiful. The curly locks of hazel brown hair hang off his head and onto his shoulders, swaying ever so slightly from the wind in the garden. The brown eyes shine brightly, bringing a sense of warmth into his otherwise stern features. His skin is a perfect pink, unmarred with any scars, contrary to the number of battles the man has taken part in. The beauty that the entity before her possesses is natural and eternal. No amount of magic or makeup can bring another being to this level of perfection in terms of appearance. She can see how the Archangel in front of her is the subject of many of her not-so-pious Sisters¡¯ fantasies. She sighs internally. Meanwhile, she has to spend 30 minutes every day washing her face, applying creams, and a whole basket load of other ointments to her face and body to maintain her fair complexion. Why can¡¯t being born Nephilim give these kinds of perks as well? He smiles. And she swoons underneath. ¡°I see. I wish you all the best, Nephilim. God be with you.¡± With that, the Archangel leaves, along with his entourage of Cardinals and Paladins. Looking at the retreating figure, she can¡¯t help but shudder. What power. She could feel it rolling off from him the moment he called her name. Even now, she can still feel traces of it lingering in the air. The title of Heaven¡¯s strongest is not just for show. Despite meeting him a few times already, Zestia still cannot get used to the presence of the Archangel. Just being near him makes her hair stand, yet she never feels fear. In a way, his presence calms her, rejuvenates her, even. Raphael rarely appears in public, and even then, never leaves the walls of the Vatican City. Yet, the tales of his exploits ring far throughout the world. There are stories of how the presence of an Archangel could change the tide of a battle; their 12 wings stretched out in the air, illuminating the battleground; their halos, shining as bright as the Sun itself, bringing warmth and hope to allies while blinding their enemies; their unparalleled might in the battlefield, dancing on the ground and weaving through the sky, all while cutting down their foes with spears made of holy light. It is said that an Archangel has enough power to destroy a city with a single wave of light spears. After meeting one herself, Zestia finds that the claim might not be too far off. But enough of thinking about Heaven¡¯s equivalent of nuclear bombs. She has much more important tasks at hand. Like leaving the Vatican Haven for the first time in more than 10 years. Somewhat still exhilarated from the previous encounter, she picks up her pace and makes her way to St. Peter¡¯s Square, where Archibald and the rest will be sending her off to Hope City. She glances around, soaking in the beautiful sights of the Vatican Gardens. They say that Hope City is lacking in greenery. She sighs; strolling through the gardens has always helped her relax after a tiring day. She reaches out, smelling one of the many flowers that bloomed during spring. She is going to miss this. ¡°Hey, Zes! Hurry up! The giant metal dragonfly from Hope City is going to take off without you!¡± Zes has to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter. Giant metal dragonfly? Is that how Sister Agatha sees the Flutterbug? There are some similarities, the wings and the bulbous cockpit, but that is about it. Then again, Sister Agatha spent her whole life within the walls of Vatican City; God knows she isn¡¯t very up to date with the outside world and technology. She is one of the elder nuns, around 50 years old that keep complaining about how Zes and her friends spend the whole day stuck in the recreational rooms watching the Holovids and RuneVision. It isn¡¯t her fault that Vatican City was boring as heck. ¡°It¡¯s not going to take off without me when I¡¯m its only passenger, Sister Agatha.¡± She sighs exasperatedly; she always overreacts and nags at them. But inside, she smiles; it is endearing, in a motherly way. A little blur suddenly tackles her in a hug, and she finds herself falling onto the floor, staring into the wet eyes of a 5 year old Cynthia. ¡°Sister Zes, we¡¯ll miss you,¡± she sniffles, ¡°write often would you? Pope Archie says that you¡¯ll be very busy there in Hope City, and it¡¯s dangerous!¡± She looks so adorable, even when she is crying, her puffy cheeks red and wet from the tears rolling down. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, don¡¯t you worry, li¡¯l munchkin¡± She wipes the tears of Cynthia¡¯s cheeks. Zes wants to squeeze them so hard. The girl is unbearably cute. But ¡®Pope Archie¡¯ is watching at the side, the gleam in his eyes showing just how amused he is at the display of affection. She¡¯d rather not let him see her perform such immature acts, lest he use it against her in the future. Gah, she¡¯d never should have let him known that she¡¯d had a crush on her friend Julius 3 years ago. Just last week she found herself stuck with him for 3 weeks on the cleanup roster. Alone. The cleanup roster which Pope Archibald no doubt arranged himself. She lifts the crying girl off her stomach, and then gets up, dusting and straightening her clothes. She is surprised at the turnout. There are over 40 people here, many of them teens around her age that she¡¯s attended classes with. All of them here to say goodbye to her. She is honestly quite touched as she goes around, saying goodbye and thanking each person individually for coming. They in turn return it with a hug and a kiss to the cheek, giving her their well wishes and farewells. Amethyst, Beatrice, Charlie, Donald, Evan, Fleur¡­ each goodbye becomes harder and harder as the emotions continued to pile and the weight on her heart keeps getting heavier. For the past few weeks after she realized she¡¯d be attending CHIP, excited was a mild way to describe how she felt. She¡¯d be leaving the walls! Not only around Vatican City, but even the gigantic ones that protected the Haven itself. She could see the world! Now, the joy is slowly getting replaced with sadness and guilt. She will be leaving her friends, people she called Sisters and Fathers. She will be leaving her family, not by blood, but by faith and bond. As she says goodbye to the last of them, she realizes that this might be the last time she will see some of them. It is no secret that CHIP¡¯s curriculum isn¡¯t exactly safe, some calling it downright hazardous. Fieldtrips to the Void and the Lost Continent are part and parcel of their learning process, and deaths are to be expected in such places. Students are tasked to patrol the streets of Hope City which, rumor has it, are strife with illegal and underground activities. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. At the same time, many of her friends here are training to be Exorcists, and some of them will be going out into the field under their apprenticeships soon. They could die. She could die. She thinks back to the many memories she has of Vatican City, the place that saved her from a much crueler fate. She remembers running around the gardens, playing catch with her friends and juniors, when they were younger. She remembers the baths, and how she and her fellow Sisters-in-training would head there to wind down and cleanse themselves after a tiring day. They would spend an hour there just gossiping and teasing one another. She remembers how she and her friends would sneak out in the middle of the night to eat real food instead of ¡®shredded bible paste¡¯ as Marcus had called it. She smiles at the memory. The food is one thing she is certain she will not miss. As her recollections grow, the pain in her heart only gets worse. She wants to get this over and done with, before she loses her composure. She can already feel her eyes watering, and she turns to wipe the tears away. She will not let them see her cry. Taking a deep breath, she turns to give her final goodbye. The bald man dressed simply for the leader of the Vatican Haven. Simple robes, a pair of metal-rim glasses and a simple necklace where a wooden cross hangs from his neck. Pope Archibald Fritz ¨C the Nephilim Miracle Maker ¨C the one the media calls the Hierophant: The person that took her in and saved her. He is the closest thing to a father figure she has, and it pains her when she realises she knows next to nothing about him. Their interactions are short, rushed, and usually only consist of lectures on morality and the like. The Pope is a busy man. She can see the weariness in his eyes; he is running a nation half the size of Europe. The world is once again on the brink of war, and the next one will make World War Three look like a petty squabble. This man is literally trying to stop a war, and the stress shows. He may not have aged physically, but his mannerisms have. In the 11 years she¡¯s known him, he¡¯s changed. The frequent smiles have become rare. The speeches of optimism, peace and hope every Sunday has degraded to messages of preparation and perseverance. And yet, despite all that, he¡¯s taken time off his busy schedule to come down and send her off. She wonders if it was because he cares for her, or because she is acting as an ambassador for Vatican Haven to Hope City as a Nephilim-in-training. It is probably a mixture of both, but she wishes it was more of the former. ¡°Come Zestia, walk with me.¡± That isn¡¯t an order from the Pope, it is a request from a¡­ Friend? Father? She isn¡¯t sure, but she walks with him towards the awaiting Flutterbug on the other side of the plaza. They walk a little in silence, Zestia taking every moment to appreciate the ancient yet grand Vatican architecture for what might be the last time. ¡°Do you remember,¡± he says as they walk past the obelisk that stands erect in the centre of the plaza, ¡°when you and Amethyst got caught trying to climb the Obelisk?¡± Zes winces as she recalls that particular memory. That is something she does remember. Vividly. And painfully. That happened 3 years ago on a winter night. She and her then roommate Amethyst had snuck out to the Plaza to climb the Obelisk. Thinking back, there wasn¡¯t much point to it other than the fact that they were clearly told not to do such a thing. ¡°Sort of, ¡°she shrugs, ¡°can¡¯t remember why though.¡± She does remember, of course. The rebellious streak ran strong amongst the prepubescent teens of Vatican City. Unfortunately, they were caught by Paladin Benedict who had been doing his rounds and then brought to Pope Archie to ¡°receive divine judgement for desecrating a Holy Object.¡± She still remembers the look of defeat the Hierophant had worn as the Paladin explained to him their crimes. God, she had been so embarrassed then. But it was nothing compared to what she had felt the next day. For they had been punished to sit on the very top of the Obelisk, wearing a sign that covered their whole body reading ¡°DO NOT FEED ¨C POPE ARCHIBALD¡± for the whole day. Wearing nothing but their nightgowns. In the middle of winter. That is something she does not want to remember. ¡°Well, as long as you remember what happened next, it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± The Pope chuckles. ¡°I do.¡± She bites back, and then asks, ¡°But what does that got to do with anything?¡± ¡°The Obelisk sitting in St. Peter¡¯s Square is 41 metres tall,¡± He continues, ¡°The Spire in Hope City is 101 stories tall. Do you understand what I am trying to get at?¡± She freezes at the implication Archie is trying to drop on her. Does he really think that lowly of her? ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t try to climb it¡± she assures him. Probably. He nods, ¡°Good, don¡¯t do anything stupid and you probably won¡¯t die.¡± She can¡¯t help but roll her eyes. The amount of confidence the man has in her is astounding. She knows he means it in jest, and she can hear the concern hidden beneath the words. She wants to say more, but can¡¯t find the words. This is the first time she¡¯s talked to him in awhile, and it breaks her to know that their final conversation is going to be so short. So they walk in silence, until they reach their destination, where the Flutterbug and its pilot stand at attention. The pilot, a mask and helmet covering his features, opens the door for her. Apprehension and nervousness is taking over her body. This is it. This man, she reads the name tag: Lieutenant Jenkins and the Flutterbug behind him are going to take her out of the Vatican Haven and into Hope City. Her adventure is just beginning. ¡°Zestia Fritz?¡± She nods blankly. The situation is kind of surreal, and in her dazed state, she enters the cabin, following the pilot in. ¡°Let¡¯s go then.¡± He walks into the cockpit, and just before the door closes, she hears a few yells. ¡°Bye, Sister Zes!¡± ¡°Write home please! Tell us what the outside is like!¡± ¡°Give the Magician my regards! And God be with you!¡± She hears Pope Archie yelling at her. What? Then the doors close and she can only peer out through the glass at the crowd that is waving goodbye to her. She feels the cabin shake; only just realizing that they are already starting liftoff. Realization dawns onto her too late, and she can only stare blankly as the Pope and the crowd behind wave to her, growing smaller as she ascends. No! She isn¡¯t ready! She slams her hand on the window, pressing her forehead against the window, and a choked sob comes out. She isn¡¯t ready to say goodbye. She watches in horror as their figures grow smaller, and the buildings of the Vatican City begin to look like a model village she has seen once in a museum. Outside, she can see the Angels flying above the City protecting it watching her, one or two even waving. She doesn¡¯t wave back. It is when the Obelisk looks about the size of a matchstick, that the first tears begin to fall. She is leaving the Vatican City, the Vatican Haven, her home for 11 years. She is going to Hope City. Alone. And she does not feel one bit hopeful. In the cockpit, Lieutenant Jenkins sighs, turning the frequency of his headset to the nearest radio station. He¡¯d rather not hear a little girl cry for home the entire journey back to the Serpent-tail. Chapter 4: Worst Birthday Party. Ever. Nihiles: The oldest group of beings in the world, some claiming that they are older than God himself. Information is scarce due to the lack of contact and what little information we know comes from Heaven itself. They used to be masters of the world, until God segregated the world into 3 parts in Genesis, theirs being called Pandora. For that, they hold a grudge against everything else in the universe, especially Heaven. They comprise of 7 races: Serpents, Ghouls, Demons, Devils, Goblins, Wraiths and Succubi, each led by 1 lord to form the 7 Lords of Pandora. It was these 7 Nihile Lords that led the invasion that triggered Exodus, and it is said their powers combined are more than a match for God himself. Chapter 4: Worst Birthday Party. Ever. Falvius takes a deep breath and exhales, fixing his eyes forwards to the massive set of wooden doors in front of him. It is probably twenty times his height, with long metal strips holding the huge wooden planks together. Strange, he¡¯s only now noticed that the bolts securing the planks to the metal have a ram¡¯s head on it, with the horns curved backwards. His grandfather¡¯s symbol. What is he doing here anyway? It is his seventeenth Birthday for hell¡¯s sake. He should¡¯ve been at home, eating a birthday cake and spending the whole day just dicking around with his friends. He heard the House of Bael has just gotten its own natural hot spring. That would¡¯ve been a sweet way to spend his birthday. Together with his buddies, drinking in the hot water, enjoying themselves as hot girls in swimsuits dip themselves into the same pool of hot water as them. He can feel himself burning up as he visualizes the Bael twins in bikinis. Wow. That would¡¯ve been awesome. The blissful expression he wears morphs into one of resignation. But noooo, old Gramps just has to have a major, official, formal pain-in-the-ass ceremony in his palace. The guest list has over a thousand people. Including Lord Bael. Adjusting his ceremonial robes, he wonders if Lord Bael would mind him tagging along to the Bael Manor afterwards to enjoy the hot spring. There is no doubt he will be in need of one after the whole affair is over. Nihile ceremonies are either too boring, or way too exciting, he felt. Either they stood in one place for hours listening to some old dude prattle on, or some battle would erupt and a bloodbath would take place. He sincerely hopes the latter will not take place today. He frowns; he can¡¯t ignore the feeling that something bad is going to happen today. This is an awful lot of fuss for his birthday, even if he is one of the Princes of Pandora. He is certain that the others did not have a celebration just short of a national holiday on their seventeenth birthdays. His musings are cut short when he hears the trumpets begin. The sound of fanfare is the cue that the procession is about to begin, and he immediately straightens. He looks around, giving nods of acknowledgements to the rest: four butlers to carry flags bearing the Satan and Astaroth symbols, and two maids behind him: one holding his very long robe/cape, the other holding some crown? He isn¡¯t sure what it is for though ¨C his father had said it was a surprise. He has a bad feeling about this surprise. Then, with a massive whoosh, the massive doors swing open and the grand entrance music by the band flanking him begins to play. He is almost overwhelmed by the sight before him. Rows upon rows of guests, many of whom he recognizes, sit on each side of the central aisle of the hall. There are military leaders, celebrities, heirs and heads of noble houses. All here just for him. Banners are draped along the walls at the side, with confetti being shot from the gallery on the second floor. Suddenly he feels so small and unimportant even though he is the star of the show today. At the raised platform at the end of the aisle, on gilded thrones, sits three people. There is a fourth empty throne in front of them meant for him. He frowns. It isn¡¯t as impressive as the others, barely any gold, and there are no precious stones embedded in his seat. His father and mother sit at each side, looking at him with pride. But the real attention grabber is the middle person. On a throne so grand it makes the other two look like stools, sits his grandfather. Satan himself. Appearance-wise, the Demon Lord looks a lot like his son ¨C Falvius¡¯ father: the short black hair, long side burns. The beard each wears is almost identical, well groomed but yet not too short. Despite their similarities, there is one difference between them that is as stark as day and night. Grandfather Satan seems to have a perpetual scowl on his face, even on his grandson¡¯s birthday. Duke Magnus Satan on the other hand, preferred to look pleasant to the eye, sporting a grin or smile as he is now. Unlike his parents, old gramps is shooting him an expecting look. The subtle beckoning with his finger is all it takes. Come. Might as well get this over and done with, Falvius sighs to himself. Bracing himself, he takes his first step. Over one thousand people get to their feet and started to applaud and cheer. The sound is monstrous ¨C he can¡¯t even hear himself think. But still, all this trouble for little old him? This is too much of a hassle. And to think that he still has countless birthdays ahead (hopefully, if he doesn¡¯t die young). Nihiles don¡¯t really have a natural life span. They are natural shape shifters, and why be old when you can be eternally young? Walking forward, he keeps his gaze fixed on his grandfather. He knows, to his grandfather, that this is as much a celebration as it is a trial of strength. To be able to receive the stares of thousands without faltering in one¡¯s step is the first requirement of leading a House. And an entire race. Satan gives a nod of approval, and he feels relief wash over him internally. He passed. Yay. That doesn¡¯t mean he feels at ease though; he is still a nervous wreck inside. Who knew walking can be so difficult when a thousand people are watching your every step? He is certain the media will have a field day if he trips and falls. He can imagine it now, the headlines reading: Prince Falvius of Pandora wears briefs! Did he mention the Demon Ceremonial robes involved skirts? His father preferred calling them battle kilts, but a skirt is a skirt. He takes solace in the clapping and cheers. If the people around him believe he can walk 150 paces without faltering, then so can he. After what feels like an eternity of walking, he finally reaches the platform. But he can¡¯t sit down yet. Oh nooo, the fun¡¯s just begun; there are formalities to do. He kneels to the master of his House, his grandfather first, and the hall grows quiet. ¡°Lord Satan¡± ¡°Prince Falvius Astaroth, you may rise.¡± Then his parents. Daddy first: ¡°Duke Satan.¡± Then Mommy: ¡°Duchess Astaroth.¡± ¡°Rise, my son, and take you seat.¡± Thanks Dad. As he makes his way to his not-to-impressive throne, he rolls his eyes. He hates formalities. They are so¡­ boring and unnecessary. A birthday song will have sufficed. This, he looks at the hall filled with people from all over Pandora, the glass and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the twenty-man band resting at the back. This is overkill. At least he¡¯ll be getting a lot of presents if the numbers are anything to go by. Maybe he¡¯ll get a hot spring. ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen¡± He almost goes deaf instead. Normal people used microphones. His grandfather used magic to amplify his voice - Projection. He frowns, that particular technique is very draining and makes people sound much sterner and much more important than they actually are, and thus only reserved in the grandest of occasions. Is his birthday that important? A thousand pair of eyes shift their attention from him to Lord Satan behind him, and he has to resist the temptation to turn around and watch his grandfather speak. ¡°Before I begin, I would like to personally thank the following for taking time off their busy schedules and gracing us with their presence.¡± What? Gramps never thanks anyone. To him, everyone is beneath him. Except for the original Nihile Lords of course, like great-grandfather, who probably got blown to smithereens during Exodus or something. Oh, and there are the other¡­ No. Falvius¡¯ eyes widens in shock as recognizes the 6 people sitting in the very front row. No. Why are they here? He¡¯s never seen all of 7 them gather together before in public, except for during the Anathema. He hopes that they remained in their humanoid forms, for the sole purpose of keeping his grandfather¡¯s palace intact. There is no way he is that important¡­ is there? ¡°Lady Asmodeus, Queen of the Succubi¡± Said Lady stands up, acknowledges his Grandfather, before turning to the crowd and blowing kisses towards them. The crowd loves it, bursting into cheers and applause at the display. Serah Asmodeus is a rather popular performer when she isn¡¯t destroying cities or performing her Nihile Lord duties. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.Seeing her up close, he can see why she is so well loved. Long blonde hair that almost reaches her hips, and emerald green eyes that lures anyone who stares into them. The skintight dress she is wearing only accentuates her killer body, showing off her curves in all the right places. Too bad she is like¡­ a couple thousand years older than him. The loud sound of a certain Nihile Lord behind him clearing his throat sends the crowd back into silence, and Asmodeus gives one last wave before sitting down, satisfied at the warm welcome she has received. Falvius pouts a little. Thunder stealer¡­ Today is his Birthday, not one of her concerts, but he has to keep his annoyance concealed, for fear she turns him into a pile of dust. His grandfather continues, ¡°Lord Belphegor, Goblin King¡± This time there is no fanfare or grand gestures. Belphegor simply stands up then sits back down. Short and sweet, he likes it. Though as to why he is wearing armor in a formal ceremony like this, he cannot fathom. Perhaps the man is simply prepared for the eventuality that the ceremony degrades into a bloodbath. He shivers at the thought. A battlefield where all 7 Nihile Lords are present? Maybe they¡¯ll name the resulting crater after him, seeing how it is his birthday party and all. ¡°Lord Lucifer, Leader of the devils, the stupidest one of them all¡± The one known as the most cunning of the Seven Lords sits asleep in his seat, much to the chagrin of his grandfather, who has mumbled the last part out of spite. He hopes nobody else heard it. Falvius shrugs, he is in no position to judge the strongest beings in Pandora, at least Lucifer came. The redheaded Lord is even wearing an elegant suit. Just for li¡¯l old him. That is enough in his book. ¡°Lord Beelzebub, Ruler of the Ghouls¡± Now this is a man who knows his priorities. Dressed in a plain T-shirt and shorts, the pudgy man merely grunts in acknowledgement before continuing to talk to Belphegor. Pragmatic? Or just plain lazy? Regardless, it shows just how little the man cares for the ceremony. His Birthday Ceremony. Whatever the case, it reminds Falvius just how insignificant he is in the presence of the leaders of Pandora. He is¡­ an insect compared to them. ¡°Lord Mammon, Wraith Lord¡± No response, and he is surprised the man (child?) even came. Mammon may wear the body of a 10-year-old child, but the bloodthirsty gaze he wears all the time reveals the monster that lives within. Mammon is a true monster, not just in power, but within whatever miniscule cold thing he calls a heart. There is a reason why screams of agony are often heard emanating from his palace. ¡°Lord Leviathan. Dragon King¡± At this, it seems the whole hall holds their breath. Leviathan¡­ is a special case, even amongst the Nihile Lords. Serpents, or dragons, by themselves are already monsters by their own right, with juveniles already capable of destroying a small mountain. He hasn¡¯t seen Leviathan¡¯s power first hand, but it¡¯s said that he makes the average adult Serpent look like an earthworm in comparison. What power. Even from his throne, Falvius can feel that Leviathan gives off a different aura from the rest. From where he sits, Leviathan smiles at him, showing off his set of rather sharp teeth. The slit-like serpent eyes studies him, and Falvius can feel the sweat starting to form on his forehead. He is afraid of course, but he cannot show it. Instead, he tries his best to level his own stare against the Dragon King, prompting Leviathan to raise an eyebrow in mild curiosity. The man doesn¡¯t look old at all, despite having silver-white hair, and is dressed only slightly more formally than Beelzebub. Jeans and a button-up shirt. Better than showing up in his 100 metre long dragon form, he supposes. His lean form only hides the power that can raze entire armies to the ground. This is the poster boy of Nihile power, the one even Apostles keep their distance from. This is also Eve¡¯s father. And Falvius is trying to win a staring contest with him. Not exactly his smartest idea, but hey, It¡¯s his birthday. He can do whatever the hell he wants. ¡°Now that introductions have been made, today is my grandson¡¯s, Prince Falvius Astaroth¡¯s, 17th birthday and, as I¡¯m sure all of you know, it marks his first step to adulthood.¡± The birthday boy really can¡¯t understand why 17 is the legal age of adulthood when the average age of the common Nihile comprised 3 or 4 digits. Like¡­ can¡¯t they have postponed it to like a hundred or something? He isn¡¯t looking forward to his responsibilities, especially since he is the heir to the Satan and the Astaroth line. Again, he wishes he has siblings. Or cousins. At least now he can wash down those responsibilities with alcohol¡­ so life isn¡¯t that bad as it seems. ¡°As you know, my grandson¡¯s status as the prodigy in combat and battle is famed throughout the land.¡± Really? is he that famous? As the undefeated champion of the Junior Nihile Combat Games for 5 years, I have seen his strength, and found it nothing short of remarkable, if not downright amazing for one so young.¡± Oh stop it Grandpa, you¡¯re making me feel shy. ¡°Is there anyone here that would object to my assessment of Prince Falvius Astaroth?¡± Murmurs break through the crowd, and he even sees the other Nihile Lords talking amongst themselves, some nodding their heads, and pride swells within him. Then again, maybe they aren¡¯t even talking about him. Then as fast it comes, the murmurs disappear and silence reigns once again. But no one speaks up. Of course, Falvius scoffs internally, speaking out means objecting to 1 of 7 Nihile Lords, which is simply put, a death wish. His grandfather continues speaking, listing out his numerous heroic exploits and achievements while pointing out the admirable qualities and traits he has displayed. Slowly, he zones out under the constant barrage of praise and compliments until he hears this: ¡°As a measure of the trust and confidence we have in him, We, the 7 Lords of Pandora are granting him the title of Pillar General, and he will be leading the advance force into Sol in 2 weeks time, where he will be key in ensuring a monumental victory like our takeover of Eden.¡± What. Firstly, how is the takeover of Eden a monumental victory? The entire of the invading force was wiped out, meaning the most experienced 70% of their population - including the original 7 sins are dead, one of whom was his great grandfather. It is a Pyrrhic victory at best. Secondly, -wait. Falvius¡¯ train of thought grinds to a screeching halt as he recounts what his grandfather said seconds earlier. What was the first part he said? Pillar General? Leading advance force? 2 WEEKS TIME?! The next thing he knows, his father has walked up behind him and he feels a weight placed on his head. He reaches up and plucks it off only to find a crown in his hands, the one the maid had been carrying on the pillow earlier. He recognizes it now. It is the symbol of a Pillar General, the highest rank in the Nihile armies. The crown they wear to war. He slowly puts it back, except this time his hands are shaking. No. Oh noooo. Is this the surprise? Because this is a terrible surprise. It¡¯s a joke, right? A harmless prank? But the faces on the Nihile Lords¡¯ faces are dead serious. This is ridiculous. He has no experience leading anybody, much less an army. Aren¡¯t prior experience and some kind of qualification necessary for this kind of thing? How was the crowd going to let a seventeen year old boy with no credentials lead an army? Then he realizes, his grandfather has just listed them out. Slowly, as Satan¡¯s words slowly sink into the now silence-stunned crowd, one line of thinking keeps repeating in his mind as he sits on his little throne with his pretty little crown atop his head. He is going to war. He is a Pillar General and he will be leading the advance force to Sol. In 2 weeks time. The first audience member who returns to his senses stands up. And starts applauding. Tens, then hundreds followed suit, and soon the entire hall is on their feet, cheering and applauding for him ¨C even the Nihile Lords join in, though the smiles on their faces seem way more malicious than the rest. But he sees a few in their audience ¨C his friends ¨C still on their seats, their faces still stuck in shock, eye wide and mouths agape. Just like him. Stop. I don¡¯t want this. ¡°Hail, Prince Falvius Astaroth, 42nd Pillar General¡± And then they kneel, which comforts him a little. But not enough to make him forget that he is now a goddamned (literally) general who is leading an army to war. There is no backing out of this. It is all for this moment he realizes, the overkill ceremony, the gathering of the 7 Nihile Lords as well: to make sure he cannot refuse. He cannot not publicly refuse an order from the Seven Lords ¨C even death is a better alternative. And it seems that just might be the case. He is going to war. He is a Pillar General and he will be leading the advance force to Sol. In 2 weeks time. Why can¡¯t he just have cake and a birthday song? He¡¯s even willing to skip out the Bael Manor¡¯s hot springs. Instead, he gets this. A bloody promotion and an order to go to war in Sol. This is going to mess up his plans a little. He¡¯s basically just gotten a death order for his birthday. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Chapter 5: Back to School Shopping Eden: The third world after Sol and Pandora, Eden¡¯s nature was completely different from that of Sol. Its world was inhabited by all kinds of species, such as Terrans, Vampires, Fae, Elves, Sylphs and other magical species, some races having unique abilities. I say was because Eden no longer exists. Its inhabitants have migrated here, to Sol during the events of Exodus. As a result, those that survived Exodus are called Edenists, and they have spread themselves across the world. In some places, they integrate themselves into human culture, such as the Oceanian Republic and Hope City. In others, they completely take over the system, forcing humans to become second-class citizens, such as areas in the Lost Continent and the American Union. Chapter 5: Back to school shopping As he studies the object he is holding, Death likes to think that he has spent the last 50 years productively, even if he was in Limbo. He places the object down to where he found it. Where dozens more lie next to it. Obviously, the owner of said items has not. He turns to the vampire, who is sharply dressed in a tuxedo and has gelled his jet black hair backwards. ¡°So¡­ you¡¯ve spent the past 3 centuries collecting items¡­¡± he points at what he is certain is a collection of second-hand undergarments, ¡°like this?¡± Pluto nods his head excitedly. ¡°Of course! You never know when you¡¯ll need these items, be it dirty underwear, used cars, or even the Priwen!¡± At his confused look, Pluto clarifies, ¡°King Arthur¡¯s shield,¡± which only creates more questions than it answers. ¡°Master Death,¡± the man turns his back to him and spreads his arms wide, gazing upon the massive rows and columns of trash, trinkets and now apparently, priceless Mystic Artifacts. ¡°Welcome to my collection.¡± Still, he is impressed; the sheer volume of items here takes his breath away, weapons, vehicles, clothing, armor, he even sees animals and Mystic Beasts trapped in cages. The interior of the building is far, far, bigger than what the external appearance indicated. He recognizes the magic of course; the man has employed a great number of space runes made by the Elves within the warehouse. But it must have cost him limb. Looking at the eye patch covering Pluto¡¯s left eye, he wonders about the story behind it. He frowns. He is certain that many of these objects did not come into the collector¡¯s hands through legal means, and he makes his reservations known to him. ¡°Legal? Obviously not! When I see how people mistreat and under-appreciate their treasures, I have to step in and rescue them, laws be damned,¡± Pluto lovingly caresses the material of a cloak he finds strangely familiar. ¡°Look at this, do you know what this is?¡± He shakes his head. There are millions of cloaks in the world. The man whips the coat around and over his back and smiles mischievously at him. ¡°Check this out.¡± He puts the hood on and suddenly, he vanishes into thin air. Death blinks. His eyes narrows as his memory starts trying to sort through billions of years of existence to match the Mystical Artifact. ¡°Boo.¡± He is not startled by the sudden voice from behind, but he still turns to look, only to find nothing. A cloak that makes its wearer invisible. And then his memory clicks and he remembers. ¡°Tarnkappe¡± he murmurs out. And Pluto reappears before him, hood down of course, a sly grin on his face. ¡°That¡¯s right, the magical cloak worn by Siegfried.¡± He swings it off his shoulders, gingerly placing it back on the rack. ¡°Made by the dwarves, this cloak helped Siegfried become one of the mightiest heroes. He wrestled and won Queen Br¨¹nhild wearing this cloak.¡± And pride can be seen all over his face before it is quickly replaced by anger. ¡°And when his friends betrayed and killed him, do you know what they did with it?¡± He knows of course, he¡¯s spoken with the hero numerous times in Sanctum. ¡°They dumped it in the river!¡± he throws his hands up, ¡°can you believe it? Such a priceless treasure, and they tossed it in the river!¡± He continues walking, and Death follows the furious collector. ¡°Unbelievable. It¡¯s like they¡¯re treating these objects like they aren¡¯t alive.¡± What? He is certain that is what the word object meant. Pluto picks up another piece of clothing and marvels at it, and this time he sees that they are a pair of dirty socks, and he highly suspects they have not been washed in a long, long time if the smell is anything to go by. ¡°These aren¡¯t magical, but they belonged to a soldier serving King Arthur. And they left it on his dead body. I couldn¡¯t believe it when I robbed that grave!¡± After smelling it, yes, he can believe that the pair of socks in the man¡¯s hand is more than two thousand old and belonged to a dead man. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.The man turns and gestures at him, or rather, what¡¯s on him. ¡°And look at you!¡± He looks at himself; the clothes he had chosen were rather simple, but he suddenly wishes that he had asked about their background before donning them. Black jeans, a black T-shirt, and black headphones that rested comfortably on his neck. ¡°Pants that once belonged to a famous scientist, a shirt that was worn to a President¡¯s funeral, and those headphones,¡± he can see the man salivating and he instinctively takes a few steps back. ¡°They belonged to a famous musician! Dr. Grey or something like that.¡± His hands instinctively reach up to touch Dr. Grey¡¯s headphones and he idly wonders if it is polite to test out its noisy-cancelling capabilities now. Still, he is curious to know why the vampire is willing to loan these ¡®precious treasures¡¯ to him if he loves them so much. ¡°Of course,¡± he warns as he sticks a finger out, ¡°I¡¯m lending you these items on one condition ¨C¡± Ah, there it is, and he wonders what kind of sick request the man would ask him to perform. ¡°¨CYou have to return these items when you are done with them.¡± That¡¯s it? He already intended on doing so. So he nods. Immediately a perverse grin spreads across the man¡¯s face and he sinks to the floor as he pumps his fists into the air. ¡°AT LAST!¡± he cries, the tears already streaming down his cheeks. ¡°MY COLLECTION WILL BE COMPLETE!¡± Death takes a step back, taken aback at the sudden outburst, and Pluto immediately tries to maintain his composure. ¡°My apologies. It¡¯s just that¡­¡± he wipes the tears with his handkerchief. ¡°In my centuries of collecting, I have never obtained an item that was once in the possession of an Apostle.¡± And suddenly he feels much more disturbed than ever, and Pluto notices it as well. ¡°I am sorry for my¡­¡± his head swings down in dejection as he tries to find the correct word. It comes half a second later, and in that time, Death has come up with several that could fit the bill. Insanity Repulsiveness Obsession ¡°Incompetence." He frowns, that was not on the list. "Please let me know how to make it up to you, Lord Apostle.¡± Whatever the case, his first problem with clothes has been solved and he must really thank Charon for introducing him to this person. He is about to say his thanks to Pluto when the second half of his sentence fully sinks in. ¡°Hrm¡­ I suppose there is one thing you can help me with.¡± He muses out loud. Hook. And Pluto immediately laps it up like a dog shown a chew toy. ¡°Anything, I will help you with anything you need!¡± This is going to be easier than he thought. ¡°I require assistance¡± he slowly drawls out, wondering how to phrase his request so that it does not seem as grand as it actually is, ¡°blending in as a human.¡± Line He knows the eventuality will come, but he wants to avoid meeting any of the other Apostles until he has no choice. ¡°Of course!" It works like a charm, and he smiles within. And sinker. "Obviously, I won¡¯t breathe a word to anyone about your status. But you¡¯re going to need a house, a background, a school¡­¡± he lists on, and Death raises an eyebrow at the prospect of having to attend a school of all places, but it is what normal human youths do, and looking at his reflection, he can¡¯t help but feel he does resemble one. His long black hair covers one eye, and his small and skinny frame makes him look like one of those emo teenagers he had been mistaken for many times the last time he was in Sol. If going to school would help him blend as a human, he will take it over returning to Heaven any day. ¡°Oh!¡± he turns and sees Pluto planting a fist onto an open palm. ¡°You¡¯re going to need a new name!¡± ¡°A name?¡± he asks. ¡°Well, yeah, we can¡¯t have you referring to yourself as Mr. Apostle of Death,¡± he says, ¡°that would defeat the whole point, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± He grudgingly admits the vampire has a point, and he starts trying to come up with possibilities. Unfortunately, Pluto already has one in mind. ¡°How about... Grimson Black.¡± He looks absolutely delighted at his own suggestion. Grimson Black. He resists the urge to shoot it down just because it came from the man¡¯s mouth. He looks at his appearance in the mirror again: a pale boy completely dressed in one colour stares back. Grimson Black. He supposes that will be adequate. Chapter 6: First Day of School Hope City: A small island city in between the Oriental Federation and the Oceanian Republic, it is the brain child of the Big Dipper, and is the only city officially endorsed by the Constellation. Its creation is shrouded in controversy as it was built on the ruins of an old country a few years after exodus. Its uniqueness lies in the fact that it is the only nation that the Constellation is obligated to defend, and is also home to CHIP. Despite its small population of 7 million inhabitants, Hope City is one of the most technologically advanced, both in terms of scientific and magical technologies, with a large portion of Constellation funds diverted into supporting the City. The island is split into 12 sectors, each with its own unique characteristics. At the centre of the island lies the Spire, a 101 storey building, home to CHIP and the government administrative offices. The first and current leader of Hope City is Director Mephisto Pheles of the Big Dipper, who also acts as the headmaster of CHIP. Chapter 6: First day of school ¡°How do I look?¡± The man asks, straightening his clothes while staring at the mirror. ¡°Disgusting.¡± ¡°Absolutely Horrid¡± ¡°Like a pretentious 5-year-old¡± Spades chooses to keep quiet. Internally, he sighs. Really, there is no need to vent their anger at the man. Said man turns to face them, displeasure clearly plastered over his face. But really, he does look quite bad. The bright blue jacket is nothing but an eyesore and his green flannel pants look as if someone puked on them. Worst of all, the big magician¡¯s hat on top of his head is clearly asking people to deck him. It may have looked cute on a 5 year old, but the person before him is clearly a grown man, his brown hair tied into a short pony tail, and a short stubble clearly evident on his chin. The man¡¯s appearance can pass as a wannabe rockstar. Too bad people his age prefer classical. He has to keep reminding himself that the man is over 5000 years old. ¡°And you, Spades?¡± the cane Director Pheles holds in his hand is pointed straight at him, and he is disturbingly reminded of the barrel of a gun. ¡°Do you agree with your fellow¡­ conspirers?¡± He almost spits out the last word. His fellow conspirers look at him expectantly. He looks between his 2 choices. Director Pheles remains as he is, still scowling at him, but he has heard the stories of how the man singlehandedly stopped an invasion of Edenists. Diamond is beaming at him, but he can¡¯t help but gulp in fear as she raises a finger up and draws a line across her neck. Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, Diamond is said to be one of nature¡¯s hardest materials. On the other, he remembers the he has a literal army-killer on the other side. Then he recalls how said army-killer made them climb one hundred and one stories worth of staircases on the grounds that ¡°Students are not permitted to use the elevator¡±. His legs are still aching. That decides it then. ¡°Sir, you look positively ostentatious.¡± He ignores the grins on the other three and continues, meeting the Director¡¯s glare with his own. ¡°The jacket is nothing but an eyesore and the pants look as if someone puked on them. And worst of all, your hat is clearly asking people to deck you.¡± The only response to his outburst is silence. Did he go overboard? ¡°Excellent!¡± The man breaks out into a smirk. What? He continues ¡°First impressions are important, boys and girls. That¡¯s the last thing I want to tell you.¡± He is now certain that there is something not quite right between the ears of Director Pheles. ¡°You¡¯ve all memorized the guest and student list?¡± They nod. ¡°Good, remember¡­ anyone who isn¡¯t a student or guest¡­ I don¡¯t care if even an Apostle shows up¡­¡± The Director¡¯s eyes narrow and his demeanour changes completely. Spades¡¯ entire body tenses ¨C he still cannot get used to the power the man exudes when he is serious. ¡°You take care of them.¡± Via any means necessary. The last part went unsaid, but they¡¯d undergone enough missions for the man to know what that tone implied. ¡°Good!¡± The man claps, and whatever demon possessing him disappears as fast as it came, and the tense atmosphere subsides like the tide. ¡°Off you go then! Enjoy your first day of school!¡± he shoos them out of his office, leading them to the staircase. ¡°Remember¡± he smiles as he waves goodbye, and a sudden sense of foreboding washes over him. ¡°Students aren¡¯t permitted to use the lifts¡± *** ¡°It¡¯s not fair!¡± Clubs whines. ¡°We¡¯re not ordinary students, we should get special privileges! Like being able to use the lift.¡± ¡°And stop leaning on me, Hearts,¡± he adds. The girl using his shoulder as support retorts, ¡°It¡¯s not my fault you¡¯re short enough to be my armrest. And besides, you¡¯ve seen the files; some of the other students are monsters. We¡¯d lose against them, no questions asked.¡± Spades looks at the sign on the wall and moans. Forty three more stories to go. ¡°Why don¡¯t¡­ you guys¡­ save... your breath¡­for climbing down these stairs¡­instead of¡­bickering¡± At least Diamond is keeping quiet. He is willing to take the tired, panting, quieter version of her over her normal chatterbox self any day. Hearts gives her a dismissive wave, ¡°C¡¯mon Diamond, you know how much energy I have to spare.¡± And just to show how much, she starts bouncing on the spot, causing her long unkempt black hair to smack into Club¡¯s face. Repeatedly. ¡°You¡¯ve been slacking off physical training, haven¡¯t you? I can literally see the fat growing on you.¡± Then, she jabs her finger into Diamond¡¯s stomach. He doesn¡¯t say it, but he is certain the finger hadn¡¯t gotten that deep the last she did it. ¡°Stop it!¡± ¡°Who¡¯s a chubby, fat pig? You are!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t make me electrocute you!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll disintegrate you if you dare.¡± ¡°No you can¡¯t. You can¡¯t disintegrate living things and you know it.¡± Next to him, Clubs rolls his eyes. ¡°Girls.¡± Spades nods to agree, if they continue arguing for the next 40 floors, he will kill himself. He looks behind and sees Diamond¡¯s red hair starting to fly about dangerously, with literal sparks starting to take form around her. He groans. The last thing he needs is a walking thunderstorm to next to him. Some things are worse than death. Wait¡­ That was it! ¡°Hold on.¡± They stop, and they watch and follow him as he makes his way out of the stairwell. If he remembers correctly, there should be window right¡­ There. The 4 cylindrical stairwells are at the corners of the glass-adorned building, which means that there is sure to be a window next to every entrance and exit. Looking through it, he can see the skyscape of Hope City. Tall, shining buildings of all kinds of designs loom over the place. Some are regular rectangles; some are bent, curvy modern designs. Then there are the crazy ones he isn¡¯t even sure how they remain standing. Magic, probably. He can see the Flutterbugs weaving through the buildings, and from afar, they really do look like insects buzzing around in a metal garden. Below, he can make out the shapes of cars zooming by, and the crowds surrounding the entrances of the Spire. They are like a horde of ants, a giant mass of figures jostling and trying to get a look at the people walking in. He can even make out the camera flashes of the press. They want to get a look at the latest class of CHIP, and what is certain to be the most problematic one. There are members of nobility, royalty, ambassadors, tournament champions, and a few children of Supernovas ¨C the strongest within the Constellation (i.e. the man that¡¯s making them climb these stairs) ¨C walking on the red carpet into the building. These are some of the most powerful youths in the world, many coming from privileged backgrounds. He is certain they aren¡¯t going to like climbing the stairs every day. ¡°Diamond,¡± he calls, and she turns away from the window to look at him quizzically. ¡°Help me deactivate the magnetic lock¡± ¡°What for? That¡¯s a pretty high¡­¡± Then she trails off as realization dawns on her. ¡°No. I¡¯m not letting you take the easy way out. I refuse.¡± She shakes her head, her hands crossed to form an X. ¡°Just do it, I¡¯ll help you guys too.¡± Her eyes light up and he can see the fireworks going off inside her mind. ¡°Really? Promise you¡¯ll help us?¡± He nods, and with a wave of her hand he hears the click as the window unlocks. ¡°Wait Diamond! You can¡¯t believe¨C¡± Hearts tries to stop her but it is too late. He opens the window and climbs onto the ledge. ¡°I promise I¡¯ll help you guys save a seat. Bye.¡± Then he waves and jumps out. ¡°Wait what! Come back!¡± Diamond leans over only to see the his sprawling figure falling down the side of the building. ¡°YOU LIAR!¡± Behind her, Clubs clucks in disapproval. ¡°Tch. show off.¡± *** Desensitization¡¯s a funny thing. The first time he fell from a building he had soiled himself. Now, as he is sailing down the Spire, he takes the time to enjoy the scenery. Hope City is small, and from this height, he can see a great deal of it. His eyes shift to the border of the island state, and he can¡¯t help but marvel at the Fence. He still doesn¡¯t know why the Director called it that. Fences don¡¯t keep the sea from submerging an island. Fences don¡¯t keep nations a hundred times your size from invading you. Walls do. And that is what the Fence is. A huge black wall surrounds the tiny island, its height almost matching that of the Spire, and just as, if not more thick. It was originally been built to repel the sea and invaders, but whole communities are being built on its side. They jut out, constructs of all shapes ¨C cuboids, spheres, and other works of art ¨C causing the once flat surface to look more like a giant rock climbing wall. It reminds him of a beehive, the few Flutterbugs landing on and taking off from buildings whose owners can afford them. The trains that run along the circumference of the wall on 3 different levels, hanging on the rails above them, resembling Serpents encircling their prey. At night, it looks like an extension of the sky, the pitch black wall blending in with the dark sky, what lights shining from the houses and offices on it trying their best to emulate their celestial counterparts light years away. He remembers how completely different the Fence looks from the outside. There are structures built on the outside as well, but for a completely separate purpose. Like spears sticking out of a Roman phalanx they stick out from the wall. Cannons and guns the length of the ships that pass by the numerous gates that lead to the harbour of Hope City. They are magical and scientific in nature, rail-guns that shoot tungsten slugs at a fraction of the speed of light, magical cannons that can shoot lightning and fire that could rival that of a Serpent¡¯s. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. If the inside reminds him of a beehive, the outside strikes him as a hornet¡¯s nest. Dozens of military airships ¨C Flutterbugs, Dragonbirds and Darkwings circle the wall on their patrols, hundreds more parked on landing pads and hangers built within the wall. Serpent-tails are parked in the water surrounding the island, their guns primed at anything that crosses into Hope City¡¯s waters. It sends a very clear message to anything entering Hope City, by air or by sea. Don¡¯t mess with us. The Constellation had spared no expense in the defence of Hope City, hiring both Elves and the Fae ¨C eternal rivals ¨C to work together to build the Fence. The results speak for themselves. It can take nukes without a scratch, and the Director once told him it can probably survive a direct hit from an asteroid the size of the Spire itself. For a moment, he feels safe, protected by the Fence as he enjoys the wind rushing past his face while he hurtles towards the ground at terminal velocity. Then his face takes a resigned look as he remembers who they were defending themselves against. To the north lies the Oriental Federation; it stretches from pre-war Malaysia to parts of China and Russia, its 2 billion citizens comprised solely of humans and the Terran descendants ¨C metahumans, or metas for short. Like himself. It is probably the only country that can match Hope City in technological prowess. To the south is the Oceanian Republic; a collection of states that consists of pre-war Indonesia to the entire Australian continent. Their population is as diverse as Hope City¡¯s ¨C everyone is allowed. Though slightly lacking in unity, their army¡¯s reputation as the strongest magical one had kept internal and external threats at bay. Both nations are a force to be reckoned with. But it isn¡¯t the armies that scare him, he is certain that Hope City can repel them long enough for reinforcements from the Constellation to arrive. It is the monsters that lead those armies that give him nightmares. The Apostles ¨C Nature in the north and Magic in the south. They can wipe out the city in the blink of an eye whenever want to. Which is probably why they haven¡¯t already done so. He feels apprehensive just thinking about them, as if they will suddenly appear behind him when he thinks about them ¨C Apostles are the bogeymen of the magical community. Their monstrous strength may have lain dormant for eons since Genesis until Exodus, but people still fear them. Goddamn, their fight had destroyed a whole damn world. The Director once recounted in one of his drunken stupors a few years ago about their power in the final fight before the Horoscope entered the portal, and he still remembers every word. ¡°And we were just sitting there, driving full steam ahead you know? The alarms were blaring, our engine couldn''t take the strain, and we could have blown up at any moment. But we said ¡®fuck it, anything¡¯s better than being eaten by Serpents.¡¯¡± He finishes pouring another drink into the cup in his hand and turns, his eyes glazed in his drunken state before they settle and focus on the 4 children sitting in front of him. ¡°Kids, you ever see a Serpent before?¡± They are captivated by the story ¨C the Director rarely swore and even more rarely shared about the past with them ¨C and they eagerly shake their heads. ¡°Count your lucky stars¡­ they¡¯re fucking terrifying. Their strength¡­ it¡¯s monstrous¡­ there¡¯s no other way to put it. Their roars create shockwaves strong enough to uproot entire forests. The beats of their wings create tornadoes strong enough to level entire villages. And their magic?¡± He makes an explosion effect with his hands ¡°BOOM, they shoot fucking nukes out of their mouths like machine guns¡± more explosions follow ¡°BOOM BOOM BOOM, rapid fire, and they wiped out the entire Fae country. Good -¡±he hiccups, ¡°good thing they were already evacuated or they would be no Fae here today.¡± The four ten-year-olds sit up straight, their eyes twinkling in awe as their minds try to comprehend destruction and carnage on a scale like they¡¯ve never even dreamed of. ¡°And we had 10 of those fucking monsters behind us. And you know who was leading them?¡± Another fervent round of shaking their heads. ¡°Motherfucking Apophis. A fucking nightmare given a 50 metre long form.¡± They look at each other, confused ¨C they¡¯d never heard of him outside of Egyptian folklore. And they are certain it had not done such a scandalous deed with Neith ¨C its mother. ¡°His words were carved into my soul when he announced himself before us... I was fucking shivering in fear.¡± He raises a hand to his mouth and makes an exaggerated harrumph, and next to Spades, Diamond can¡¯t help but giggle at the display as the Director inhales deeply and closes his eyes. Then all the blood leaves their faces as they feel the atmosphere in the room change, and what was a drunken old man suddenly changes into another entity that holds so much more presence around him that even they can feel it. His body has frozen, and he can feel Diamond¡¯s hand reaching for his own, but it never registers in his mind to hold it back. He can almost see an aura forming behind the old man, a shadow of a long neck, with horns protruding on the spine of it. There is a head, but the image is quickly fading like smoke on a windy day. Then red eyes snap open, focusing on him. They are like rubies, blood-red rubies that stare straight into his soul, relishing the fear that it finds within. Then, the shadow lunges, and he finds himself staring at rows upon rows of teeth. He wants to scream, to run away, but his body remains frozen as he stares into the mouth of a dragon. The next thing he knows, he is tumbling down a dark abyss, and words spoken by the shadows around him ring in his mind. He presses his hands against his ears, trying to block the raspy metallic words, but it only amplifies it. I am the avatar of Darkness. I lurk in the shadows of the World, devouring all who stand in my way. I am the devourer of the Sun, spreading fear and despair to all who hear my roar. For ages, I have waited for a worthy battle, a foe that can still stand after a single strike. I am the Serpent of Chaos, Apophis. He realises he is falling into a pit, and its are walls lined with snakes - cobras, their hissing and slithering forms make up the walls of the pit. And at the very bottom of the tunnel of darkness, he sees a coiled serpent on the floor, monstrous in size, its ruby-red eyes staring at him, radiating bloodlust at an unimaginable level. Its jaws unhinge and he once again finds himself staring at the rows of teeth, except this time, he can smell the breath of rotting corpses. And he can see the souls of the damned trapped inside its gullet, arms reaching out, trying to claw themselves out of its belly but to no avail. And I have come forth to greet my next meal. There is silence. He looks around, but instead of the abyss, he finds himself in a room with four others. There are three children next to him and they all look dazed, their eyes wide in fear. Next to him, a girl with red hair sits, her legs are shaking, and he instinctively puts a hand on her shoulder. The shaking stops. Diamond. He remembers her name now, and why they are in this room. They are listening to a story. He turns to look at the storyteller. The man¡¯s green eyes are cold and empty, staring right at him. No, they are staring through him; the man is not in this room at all. He is still trapped in the past, reliving the memories he has just assaulted the 4 of them with. The man¡¯s hands are shaking, and the wine in the cup he holds in one hand is sloshing back and forth, just like the water does when he plays in the bath. It frightens him that the traumatized man before him is one of Humanity''s strongest. By now, the other 3 have regained their senses, and they are staring at their mentor. There is silence while they are waiting for him to return, and the sounds of their racing heartbeats and deep breaths are all they hear besides the background noise of the machinery in the room. After what feels like forever, the man shakes his head, and returns to reality, and immediately he asks the question that has been plaguing their minds. ¡°What happened next? How did you beat the dragon?¡± ¡°Beat?¡± The man laughs, and then takes another sip of the brown-red liquid he holds in his hand. ¡°We had no way to beat him. We were in space, our weapon systems offline, our engine ready to explode at any moment. The only things we could have thrown at him were disposal bags. And there was no way we were going to piss those things off more by launching our shit at them.¡± The atmosphere lightens with the little joke, but it is still a far cry from what it was before the story. ¡°So¡­ how did you escape?¡± The other girl, Hearts asks. The man inhales, then exhales with only 1 word. ¡°Apostle.¡± He is jerked back into reality by the screams, and he watches, baffled, as the figures in front of him grow bigger with every passing millisecond. Then he remembers that he is falling towards the ground at a speed of fifty six metres per second. Below, the crowd parts like the Red Sea. They are pointing at him, he realizes, and the hole in the crowd continues to grow bigger as people avoid standing in what is certain to be the splash zone. He smiles, no better way to make an entrance than with dramatic flair. He feels the area with his senses, and the invisible strings that connect him to ground are visualized in his mind. They are like stretched rubber bands, pulling him towards it. Gravity: one of four fundamental forces. That is his specialty, his power. It is also his friend, and friends don¡¯t hurt each other. He reaches out with his mind, and the strings suddenly changed into coiled springs ¨C instead of pulling him down, they push him upwards. The breath is knocked out of him from the sudden deceleration, and he grunts in pain at the invisible impact. But it beats colliding into the hard tarmac from a height of forty two stories. His speed decreases, and he suddenly finds himself falling at a much more leisurely pace than before. Below him, the crowd is stunned into silence, they were certain the boy was going die and many had turned to avoid the gruesome sight, but then they turn and see him floating in the air, descending slowly from the sky like one of Vatican Haven¡¯s angels. The silence only lasts a moment before applause and the sound of camera shutters snapping takes its place, filling his ears from every direction. He raises his hands to cover his eyes, partly to block his face from being photographed, and also to prevent the bright flashes from the press from blinding him. As he walks towards the red carpet, the crowd makes way for him ¨C all while reporters hold out microphones to ask for his name, power, background and other tidbits of information he doesn¡¯t want to reveal. That doesn¡¯t mean he despises the attention though; he revels in it. After doing black ops for years, a little public recognition and attention goes a long way in feeding his starving ego. He slips under the barrier that keeps the press and onlookers out, only to find himself staring at the face of a pretty girl who is looking at him with disapproval. He scans his memories ¨C Blonde hair¡­white robes similar to what they wore in the Vatican Haven¡­ The cross necklace hanging from the neck¡­ He is certain of it. She is a student, one of the more high profile ones ¨C Zestia Fritz ¨C the Nephilim World Rejector. He offers her a smile and she returns it with a shake of her head, before turning and walking into the Spire. Unlike the crowd, she is obviously unimpressed and not amused by his death defying feat. This revelation causes him to frown as he walks behind her to enter the building, all while ignoring the questions directed at him by the onlookers. To quote a certain egoistic asshole¡­ first impressions are important, after all. Chapter 7: A Whole New World Africa: As you can imagine, World War Three (2042-2069) messed up our world pretty bad. It was the most devastating war in human history, with more casualties in that 18 years than there were in the past two centuries. We lost 3 billion. That¡¯s almost 40% of our population. And no place had it worse than Africa. Even before then, Africa was in trouble, droughts, famine, civil wars, rogue states, a lot of places in it required international aid. And when World War Three started, that aid disappeared. Suddenly, the value of resources like oil, food, water and metal shot up, surpassing everything else ¨C friends, families and lives. Whole nations toppled in those two decades; governments fell to warlords, tribes evolved to become militias and bandits, and people had to resort to despicable methods to survive. And when South Africa fell in the last few years of the war, everything south of Egypt plunged into anarchy. After Exodus, that¡¯s where the worst of the Edenists settled as well. The criminals, terrorists, mercenaries, the rogue groups, even the Constellation fears it, choosing to contain their problems within rather than risking their lives. Till this day, we call that area the Lost Continent, and few dare to venture in there. Travel there is difficult, and one must fly to the African Belt ¨C Egypt, Morocco, Algeria and Libya to venture within. Information is scarce, and for good reason. One in three who go in, don¡¯t come out. Chapter 7: A Whole New World ¡°Are you serious?¡± Falvius gasps out. ¡°You were telling us about how powerful this¡­ Constellation is, and now you want us to infiltrate the one fucking nation that is in charge of and attack it?¡± He pinches the bridge of his nose. The Acolytes here are idiots. ¡°Well¡­ Lord Beelzebub told me to find a target high profile enough to make¡­a statement about Nihile Power¡­¡± The Acolyte stammers out, and Falvius almost feels sorry for him. He wonders what crime he committed to be expelled from Pandora, and what trials he has faced to cross the Void into Sol. The poor ghoul in front of him has endured a life of suffering only to land in Sol. No doubt, when the image of a Nihile Lord had appeared before him he was overjoyed, thinking that he had been forgiven and could finally go home. Instead, he finds himself in the Lost Continent ¨C Sol¡¯s cesspool of scum and filth, being forced to do the bidding of seven children. Six children, Falvius corrects himself, and one adult. The can of beer he holds reminds him of his new-found title, and that it is two weeks into the new year ¨C two weeks into his adulthood. He hates the taste, it is bitter and burns his throat, but he drinks it because he can, and to remind himself that his life sucks shit. The ghoul has nothing on him; he committed a crime against Pandora, and hence he is here. It is by no one¡¯s fault but his own for his fate. He however, has basically gotten his face shoved into a pile of pure fuckery because his grandfather deems him ready. He takes another long sip, pretending to enjoy the revolting liquid, which earns looks of longing and envy from his friends. Friends that chose to follow him into this hellhole. Here, they are no longer just friends; they are his faithful lieutenants as well. He is glad that they are ¨C it makes the journey to his impending doom all the more bearable, and he is grateful that they are willing to go so far for him. There is one from each race, and he would offer them a drink as a token of appreciation, but alas, they are underage. ¡°Two months.¡± He reminds them, ¡°Two more months before I can let any of you guys drink some of this.¡± They scowl at him, and they turn to the more pressing matter at hand to remind him of the reason he is drinking in the first place. ¡°Find us another target, I don¡¯t want to open a Gate in the middle of a city filled with wannabe heroes and vigilantes,¡± Corith orders the kneeling ghoul. ¡°Master Phenex, with all due respect, given the fact that you¡¯re army has less than ten thousand men, this is the most¡­ viable option.¡± The ghoul bows his head, hoping that his words will not offend them. It doesn''t work, and Eve immediately gets on her feet, and releases a fraction of her power at the shivering form grovelling at her feet. Her long black hair starts floating in the air like snakes and her Serpent eyes are aimed right at the object of her ire. The malicious intent is unbearable, and the ghoul¡¯s forehead touches the floor. Even Falvius is forced to raise his mental defences. But he does nothing to stop her, because the ghoul has implied that his army is weak, and he will not stand for such insubordination. The fact that he has seen the daughter of Leviathan at full power and is terrified by it is completely irrelevant to his lack of resistance. ¡°Are you questioning the abilities of our army?¡± The tone is dangerous, and it hints to the suffering that is to come if the ghoul replies in any way that even implies an affirmative answer. The rest of them look on in interest, imagining what cruel fate lies ahead for the poor soul that has ignited the legendary Leviathan temper. ¡°Not at all, Mistress Leviathan!¡± the ghoul gets up and frantically denies, and the pressure eases up a little. ¡°It is just the quickest way to achieve the same results!¡± and the ghoul resumes his kowtowing. ¡°Explain.¡± Falvius orders, and Eve sits back down, while the ghoul rushes to the map of Earth on the wall. ¡°The American Union is the most militarized and populous nation, and it is also the headquarters of the Fallen Angel population. It will take far too much time to secure an area to use as a landing zone, not to mention there is the possibility of intervention from Heaven if we take too long.¡± He looks at his general nervously, and Falvius nods; the explanation is reasonable. He then continues. ¡°Vatican Haven is out, you might as well declare war on Heaven itself if you attack, as well as anything close to it, so that rules out the rest of Europe and the African Belt.¡± He points to rather large piece of land, and then shrugs. ¡°You can take Africa if you want, easily in fact, but err¡­nobody actually cares about or wants this giant piece of shit, not to mention it will be too chaotic to use as a staging ground for an invasion.¡± There is a sudden sound of explosion, and they turn to the window and see a plume of smoke rising in the distance. It is followed by gunshots and more explosions, though smaller in magnitude. The ghoul tries to reassure them, even though they are not worried in the least. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. My men will take care of them. Those armed bandits will not even make it to the second perimeter.¡± There is a hint of pride in his voice, and Falvius¡¯ opinion of the ghoul rises by a little. ¡°Continue.¡± Samus commands, and the ghoul fumbles with the pointer in his hand, before circling a large portion in the east of the map with it. ¡°That leaves these 3 places: the Oriental Federation in the North, the Oceanian Republic in the South and Hope City in between, which is so small you can¡¯t even see it on the map.¡± Falvius understands the ghoul¡¯s reasoning now, but he has already spoken against it, and it will hurt his pride to accept his advice after they have so violently (he shoots a look at Eve) rejected it. ¡°Why can¡¯t we take over an area in the other two countries then? They¡¯re big enough that they won¡¯t notice an information blackout from a small territory.¡± Jorjei points out, and Falvius agrees with the Goblin. It would raise too many eyebrows if an entire nation, one protected by the Constellation especially, were to suddenly go dark. ¡°Well¡­ er¡­ you can, I suppose. But I don¡¯t think the Apostles that run those two countries will be very happy about it.¡± They all freeze, and in the deafening silence that follows, he is almost certain that the ghoul¡¯s face possesses the smallest hint of smugness. Apostle. A fucking Apostle. He must have heard wrong, and he breaks the silence to clarify his doubts. ¡°Did you say Apostle?¡± He asks. "ApostleS," the ghoul emphasises, ¡°the Apostle of Magic in the Oceanian Republic, and the Apostle of Nature in Oriental Federation.¡± Fuck. Apostles. He capitalizes the letter ¡®S¡¯ in his mind. Fucking ApostleS. He is reluctant to do so, but he has no choice now. Just because he is prepared for his death, does not mean he will go seeking it so brazenly. ¡°Leave,¡± he dismisses the ghoul, ¡°Go and make preparations for three of us to enter Hope City. The rest will join after they have found a Keystone.¡± ¡°Yes, General Astaroth.¡± And he turns to leave. He narrows his eyes. ¡°Wait.¡± Falvius stops him before he closes the door. ¡°What is your name, and how did you offend Lord Beelzebub?¡± It is a personal question no doubt, but the man will answer because he must. ¡°I was once Lord Forneus.¡± And he raises his eyebrows in surprise. He¡¯s heard of that name, it was an almost extinct noble family that had only one person. But he is certain that person was female, and that she died in Exodus. ¡°And Lord Beelzebub has me paying for my sin of trying to hide my daughter during his enlistment act to recruit warriors to invade Eden.¡± And then he leaves, slamming the door shut. The room descends into silence again and Falvius is too stunned to call out the Acolyte¡¯s blatant act of disrespect. *** Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. It is minutes later, before the atmosphere between the seven of them returns normal enough for them to pursue the banter that they enjoy so much. Corith Phenex, his devil friend, starts first, using his hand to comb his brown hair out of his eyes while levelling an accusing glare at him. ¡°This is all your fault, Falvius. Why did you have to get your ass promoted to General? We had a goddamned plan.¡± His fault? He didn¡¯t ask for any fucking piece of this shit. ¡°How is it my fucking fault? I didn¡¯t ¨C¡± ¡°¨C It is entirely your fault.¡± But Zerithea cuts him off, and he sends a glare to the Wraith, who ignores it in favor of pushing the blame to him. ¡°You just had to show everyone how much of a prodigy at fighting you are, didn¡¯t you? Just had to be born with the most potent magic in recent Demon history, didn¡¯t you? Just had to be born on the first day of the year, didn¡¯t you?¡± She jabs a finger into his chest. ¡°Even Eve didn¡¯t get promoted to General, and she¡¯s the first fucking Serpent in centuries to put a scratch on her father!¡± He points to said Serpent, who is glaring at them, but the chocolate stains over her hands and mouth from the cake she is eating with her bare hands greatly reduces the threat level. ¡°That¡¯s because she¡¯s not seventeen! She turned sixteen the day before I turned seventeen! And that¡¯s the only reason she¡¯s not General Leviathan yet.¡± ¡°Hey, watch it!¡± the black-haired girl wipes the stains off, before continuing, proudly thumping her chest with her fist. ¡°By the time I¡¯m seventeen, I¡¯ll be Queen Leviathan.¡± Arturia scoffs and rolls her eyes. ¡°Please, there¡¯s no way you¡¯ll defeat your father in one year.¡± And she opts to play with her red hair instead of taking on Eve¡¯s glaring challenge. ¡°I¡¯m willing to bet the Gremory House¡¯s entire wine collection on it.¡± Falvius feels a need to step in, before their verbal spar turns physical and they destroy the ghoul¡¯s fortress by accident. He does not want to feel sorry for the man even more. Speaking of ghouls, his eyes lands on his own ghoul friend, Samus Amon, who has remained uncharacteristically quiet since ex-lord Forneus left. He worries if the man¡¯s story has struck a personal chord. His worries are unfounded, however, when Samus points an accusing finger at him. ¡°Enough.¡± They stare at the shortest but second oldest of the seven. ¡°You are missing the point.¡± Exactly, and Falvius smiles. It seems that the gravity of fighting a war has finally sunken in for the second oldest amongst them, and he is glad that there is another person matching in maturity to him that will be leading the army with him. ¡°This is all Falvius¡¯ fault. And he must be punished.¡± And his hopes sink like brick just like that, and the others start nodding at his proclamation. They are children, he reminds himself. Maturity is not an endpoint, but a process, and the children before him have only just begun to embark on their journeys. He must guide them to the path of enlightenment. ¡°C¡¯mon guys,¡± he tries to placate their growing anger. ¡°Look, I know I messed up the old plan, but it wasn¡¯t that great anyway.¡± They begin to glower at him, and he can feel their anger for insulting their ideas. He chuckles nervously. ¡°I mean, seriously? Keep training for five hundred years and become strong enough to take over as the next seven Nihile Lords. Doesn¡¯t that sound a little¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ vague or idealistic to you?¡± they look at each other for a moment, and then grudgingly nod at him. Inside, he heaves a sigh of relief, and then continues. ¡°This war, if we survive it, we will no doubt come out stronger than before, and the people will respect us. We will use this world as a testing ground for our leadership and our abilities, and we will know what we lack when we return back to Pandora. And afterwards, we will train. We will eliminate any weaknesses that we have, and then, we will begin our march to the Pandora Palaces." He gestures towards their surroundings. The battle plans drawn up, their weapons resting on the wall, but ready to be used at a moment''s to notice. "Can¡¯t you guys see? This war, it¡¯s not a curse. It¡¯s an opportunity. We will have the foundation to build our future power on, and we can use it to overthrow the seven Lords. My grandfather, Asmodeus, Lucifer, Belphegor, Mammon, Leviathan. Beelzebub. And then all our dreams can come true.¡± As he speaks, he tries to convince himself, and it surprisingly works, and the speech sounds so much more charismatic. He can see they are still doubtful, so he has no choice but to appeal to them individually. ¡°Eve, you can finally surpass your father, become history¡¯s first Dragon Queen.¡± And at that thought, the girl¡¯s eyes twinkle in longing, and he moves over to the next target. ¡°Corith, you can have all the women you want. Imagine it,¡± and the Devil reaches out to his invisible dreams. ¡°All those women throwing themselves at the future leader of devils. Isn¡¯t that better than Heaven?¡± The Devil has crossed the point of no return - perverse giggles start coming out of his mouth - and Falvius quickly backs away. ¡°Arturia, you can finally win the heart of Zelderoth. Think of how highly your crush will think of you when you return home, one more victory under your belt than him?¡± And the Succubus girl starts blushing at the attention her imaginary lover is giving her. He sits next to Zerithea and puts one arm around her shoulder, the other reaching out in front of the two them, and she is curious to know what forbidden fruit he will offer her. ¡°Imagine it, Zerithea, an army of chefs serving you: Pandora¡¯s greatest food critic. Your tongue will be treated to a palette of flavours like no other. Meat, wines, deserts, and, no vegetables.¡± She is sold, and Falvius uses his handkerchief to wipe away the dribble of the Wraith¡¯s saliva that has landed on his pants. He prowls over Jorjei, whose glazed Goblin eyes show he is already dreaming of his paradise. He only needs a small push. Falvius takes out a few gold coins from his pocket, and starts stacking them in front of him. ¡°Think of the spoils, Jorjei, the mountains of gold, silver, diamonds and other gems all piled in front of you.¡± And for good measure, he leaves the gold coins in front of the Goblin, who basks in their shiny metallic glory. ¡°And you Samus¡­ your treasure lies in the midst of the battles, not after it.¡± He leads the Ghoul to the world map. ¡°See this?¡± And Samus nods doubtfully. ¡°One whole world¡¯s worth of warriors for you to fight. Think about how you can test yourself. How strong you will emerge from each win, your body covered with your opponents¡¯ blood. Think about the number of challengers that will find you in the battlefield, and how you will kill each and every single one of them.¡± Samus is exuding bloodlust, and he knows he has him ensnared. ¡°You can fight and kill anyone you want here.¡± And he walks away, leaving the ghoul to start planning his battles in front of the world map. He smiles, children are so easy to manipulate. He sits back down, and he spies a human form of entertainment, a Holovision display, sitting at a corner of the room. For what little they are worth, humans are geniuses when it comes to entertainment, and the Pandora blackmarket is filled with their entertainment goods. He recognizes the current programme; it is a retro superhero movie, one he does not particularly enjoy because the shield-throwing main character is so morally upright it is annoying. He wants to change the channel, and he immediately finds a problem. And the silence is broken. ¡°ALRIGHT, WHO THE FUCK TOOK MY FUCKING REMOTE.¡± And with that crass sentence, the dreams of lust, wrath, greed, gluttony and desire are shattered and the room descends once more into chaos. *** Outside the room, his ear still pressed against the wall, Lord Forneus shudders. He recognizes what the child has done, for he has used the technique Seduce numerous times himself. For a child so young to be able to embed magic into his words to tempt others¡­ The Satanspawn is truly terrifying. And then he leaves, he has a few phone calls to make, after all. He smiles. The time for his redemption has finally begun. He will help these children the best he can, even if they are collection of psychos, assholes and manipulative bastards. Because he will get his revenge, and Beelzebub will die. Beelzebub. He doesn¡¯t even notice that he has fallen prey for the same technique he was once so proud of. And in the room behind, Falvius Astaroth smiles as he ducks to avoid a chair sailing over his head. He fucking loves Seduce. A/N: I didn''t really have time to proofread this alot, so tell me if there are any mistakes. thanks.