Chronos Elior
I walked into my garage, where the cars were lined up neatly, each in its designated spot. To the left, the silver Rimac Nevera shimmered under the lights, its futuristic silhouette a sharp contrast to the classic lines of the Bugatti Chiron next to it.
This garage, meticulously designed by my late wife Amelia, was more than just a storage space, it was a reflection of her passion for cars, a collection that ranged from the raw power of American muscle to the refined elegance of European engineering. She had a keen eye for design and performance, which was evident in every vehicle she chose.
As I passed the gleaming lineup, the vibrant orange McLaren 765LT caught my eye, pulsing with energy, parked next to the sleek Maserati MC20, a masterpiece of Italian craftsmanship. Each car had its story, a memory of a drive, a trip, or a moment shared with Amelia.
In the corner stood the customized forklift, an anomaly in this collection of high-performance machines. Decked out with chrome and flames, it was a project that Amelia undertook to inject some fun into the otherwise serious ensemble. It reminded me of her lighter side, her laughter echoing in my mind as she joked about racing it against the classics. I won’t deny that I instigated the forklift buy. I made a joke and here it is. I loved it though.
The lounge area at the back of the garage offered a stark contrast to the polished floors and gleaming metal. It was a cozy nook with plush leather sofas facing a large-screen TV, the perfect spot for relaxing after a long drive or watching replays of classic races. A small, well-stocked mini-fridge and a built-in espresso machine provided refreshments, while a well-worn Bible and a framed picture of Amelia and me added a personal touch, making the space feel like home. This was basically her second home considering the hours she spent here working on these.
Choosing the Rolls Royce Phantom, a 2007 model, for today’s outing was more than a nod to tradition, it was more of a ritual. This car, blending classic elegance with the reliable engineering of its era, had become my standard choice for visits to the Ascendants Association. As I approached the Phantom, its stately form seemed to stand as a bastion of the past, each line and curve a silent testament to Amelia's enduring influence on my life.
The Phantom, with its deep history and profound connection to our shared experiences, offered a silent comfort. It was in this car that we had taken many drives, discussing just about anything one could think of, its spacious and luxurious interior having borne witness to some of the most significant moments of our lives together.
Starting the engine, the familiar purr of the well-maintained motor was reassuring. It reminded me of countless journeys begun right here, each turn of the key a step into nostalgia. Today, as always when heading to meet with trusted colleagues or to negotiate delicate matters at the Association, the Phantom was my vehicle of choice. Why this car and only this car? Well from my previous rambling, it’s because of my wife. Every time we went to the A.A. together, it was in this car specifically.
Come to think of it, I started doing this out of habit because of her.
I turned my head to the passenger seat, noticing the seatbelt was still buckled, just as if Amelia were sitting there, ready for another car ride alongside me. It was something I did every time before setting off, a ritual that kept her presence alive in the gentle hum of our shared silences and the road trips that echoed with remnants of our conversations. The sight of the empty seat, with the belt securely fastened, was a poignant reminder of the void her absence left, yet it also filled the space with a sense of her enduring companionship.
In the quiet of the car, surrounded by the soft leather and the familiar scent of the wood paneling, I let myself feel her presence, as if she had just adjusted the radio to our favorite classical station or was about to point out a roadside hawk soaring above. It was these moments, simple yet deeply ingrained in the fabric of the Phantom, that bridged the gap between past and present, allowing me to carry her legacy with me as I navigated the complexities of a life she had helped shape but could no longer physically share.
I closed my eyes briefly, and imagined what she would be saying about who I was visiting and what my purpose was behind it. I could hear her little gripes and moans about how that woman is always wanting to analyze her sword and how she would somehow bring it up even though we are going there for a completely different reason.
I chuckled at my musings and took off to the western campus for the A.A. Pulling out of the garage, I let my mind relax. Driving was something I took comfort in. Obviously I don’t need to but if I have the opportunity to drive, I will. The route to the Ascendants Association was one I had taken many times before, yet it never felt routine, especially today, as I steered towards a lesser-known entrance, a path reserved for those of us with deeper ties and higher clearances within the organization.
The road there was less a road and more a veiled pathway, cloaked by the overhanging branches of ancient trees whose roots whispered secrets of the old world. As the urban landscape gave way to secluded woodlands, the transition felt almost ceremonial, like crossing the threshold into a hidden sanctum. The trees parted at the end of the path, revealing an unassuming structure built into the side of a hill, camouflaged so effectively it could easily be missed by untrained eyes.
This was the portal room, an exclusive gateway used by high-ranking Ascendants. Unlike the grand public portals advertised to the world, this entrance was stark, utilitarian, yet charged with an air of latent power. I parked the Phantom outside, its classic lines in stark contrast to the modernity of the portal technology housed within.
Stepping out of the car, I took a moment to appreciate the relative solitude of the parking area reserved for those with the highest clearance at the A.A. Only a few other high-end vehicles were parked nearby, each one signifying the status of its owner.
Oh, is that a Lykan Hypersport? Honestly Amelia would want to buy it off the guy since it “technically” would count as a collectors piece. Her usual excuse.
Ignoring the standard portal setup that hummed to life as I approached, I continued down a narrow, less-traveled corridor. The walls here were lined with sigils that glowed faintly under my scrutiny, acknowledging my presence.
Reaching a secluded spot, I stopped and focused. Raising my hand, I coaxed the latent energies around me to converge. The air before me began to ripple and distort, reality folding under the weight of my will. A shimmering portal pulsed into existence, not the typical gateways used by the Association but a direct manifestation of my own creation.
Stepping through the portal, I emerged into the chaotic brilliance of a well-used laboratory. The transition was seamless, the serene environment of the Association giving way to a space brimming with vibrant activity and scientific endeavor.
I paused for a moment, taking in the surroundings. The lab was a sprawling maze of workstations cluttered with an array of scientific paraphernalia: beakers bubbling with mysterious liquids, flasks emitting gentle glows, and petri dishes hosting colorful mystery sauce. Screens of various sizes flickered with complex data sets and graphical representations of theoretical models, illuminating the room with a soft, pulsating light.
The walls were lined with shelves overloaded with books and binders, their spines labeled with topics ranging from quantum mechanics to esoteric studies of ancient alchemical texts. Sketches and blueprints were pinned haphazardly along a corkboard that spanned an entire wall, showcasing intricate designs of experimental devices and untested inventions.
In the center of this organized chaos, a large table served as the focal point, strewn with tools, soldering irons, and half-assembled machinery. It was clear that this space was not just a laboratory but a crucible of creation, where theory meets practice in a continuous dance of trial and error.
Above all, the air was charged with a palpable sense of purpose, each surface and gadget telling its own story of challenges faced and overcome, of late nights and breakthroughs. This was a realm where the boundaries of science were not just pushed but often completely redefined.
As I stepped further into the lab, the scent of ozone and solder mixed with the faint aroma of burnt coffee, and pure unfiltered B.O. Showers seem to be taboo in this place every time I visit.
As I moved closer to the central table, an unexpected sight caught my eye. There, amid the scientific chaos, lay a woman, using a pile of soft-bound journals as a makeshift pillow. Her purple hair was a wild tangle of curls, spread out like a halo around her head, and her hand clutched a marker, presumably fallen mid-note.
I chuckled softly, recognizing the all-too-familiar sight of an overworked researcher catching a rare moment of rest. Approaching quietly, I attempted the usual methods of waking a sleeping scientist, gentle calls, a slight nudge, even a louder clap. Yet, she remained undisturbed, lost in the depths of her exhaustion.
Slightly bemused by her tenacity to ignore the waking world, I escalated my efforts. Leaning over, I grasped her shoulders and gave a gentle shake. "Selena," I called, a bit louder this time. No response. My eyebrows lifted in amusement, it wasn't often one saw such dedication to sleep, especially in a lab as chaotic as this.
With a mischievous grin, I decided it was time for the big guns. I stood straight holding her up by the arms like a cat, inhaled deeply, and bellowed right next to her ear while shaking her aggressively, "Dr. Selena, wake up! You're missing the Nobel Prize announcement!" Still nothing. Since this didn’t work I had a few aces up my sleeve. Rolling up said sleeve I walked over to one of the alchemy tables. I leaned over and eyed each glass, selecting my victim with the utmost scrutiny. My eyes landed on a beaker filled with a harmless but brightly yellow colored liquid. With a mischievous grin, I picked up the beaker, twirled the liquid, took a whiff of its contents, gagged, then dropped it. The sound of shattering glass echoed sharply through the lab.
Instantly, she bolted upright, eyes wild and alert. "WHO TOUCHED MY RESEARCH?" she bellowed, scanning the room with intense scrutiny. Her gaze finally settled on me, and her expression shifted from panic to irritation as she recognized my presence.
I gave her a friendly wave, “Good morning!”
Chronos, you bastard," she grumbled, her voice thick with sleep and irritation as she rubbed the back of her neck. "I finally manage to catch a wink of sleep, and you shatter it like that infernal glass."
I chuckled, holding up my hands in a half-hearted surrender. "Good morning, Selena. Couldn't resist the dramatic wake-up call."
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she muttered a string of curses under her breath, half-directed at me and half at the universe for allowing her nap to be so rudely interrupted. She finally managed a wry smile, "You know, one of these days, I'm going to rig that beaker with something just to teach you a lesson."
Laughing, I countered, "Oh, you know it wouldn’t work. That one was the one you rigged this time, wasn’t it?" I pointed to another beaker on the table, hinting at our ongoing pranks.
She dragged herself off the table and hunched over, then reached for the beaker I indicated. With a mischievous glare, she hurled it at me. I didn’t move, letting the beaker fly past. It shattered against the wall, exploding into a mass of glowing slime that began to eat away at the wall.
"Nice try!" I exclaimed, admiring the slowly dissolving wall. "But you'll have to do better than that."
She sighed and shook her head, a smile breaking through her feigned annoyance. "Just wait, Chronos. One of these days, I'll catch you off guard."
“We shall see,” I said.
"Sixteen hours of sleep across four days isn't enough for anyone, let alone during a research binge," she yawned widely, stretching her arms above her head.
"Only you would consider a marathon session of sleep deprivation a 'binge.' How deep did you dive this time?" I asked, leaning against a nearby table filled with buzzing equipment.
Straightening up, she rotated her shoulders, releasing a symphony of cracks and pops. "Hit the thirty-two-day mark. Had a breakthrough about the rifts. Thought I was on to something monumental." I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Rifts? Anything I should be worried about?" She shuffled over to a cluttered desk, rifling through piles of papers and opened a drawer to pull out a thick file.
"As my initial hypothesis regarding rifts is that they are more similar to gates than we believe them to be. However it’s worse than we thought. Did you hear about the rift that appeared about a month ago in Hawaii? Turns out that the rift didn't just open naturally. And, it's much worse than we thought after getting boots on the ground.”
I took the file she handed me, flipping it open. The contents sent a chill down my spine. The photographs showed a small town, eerily silent, with a gaping rift in the center. Surrounding it were the bodies of civilians in a grotesque tableau of despair and horror. Each was naked and positioned kneeling, bound, and blindfolded, their heads thrown back in silent screams, and on their bodies were sigils carved into their flesh. The ground around their knees stained with dried blood and signs of their last living moments spent in terror. It was a macabre ritual, thirty souls used as unwilling sentinels to whatever horrors lay beyond that rift.
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This reeks of them and their work…
“Did they-”
"Yes," she said, her voice low and heavy with implication. "Someone forcibly opened a rift by using people as a proxy. That’s not even the worst of it.” She nodded towards the file in my hands motioning me to check the next page. Dropping the images onto the table I began to read the report.
Confidential Report: Incident Analysis
Location: [Redacted], near [Redacted]
Date: [Redacted]
Reporting Officer: [Name Redacted]
EXECUTIVE SUMMARY:
This report details the findings from the preliminary investigation into the incident at the small town of [Redacted], where an artificial rift appeared, leading to the mass casualty event of thirty civilians. The site has been secured, and detailed forensic analysis is ongoing.
INCIDENT DESCRIPTION:
At approximately [Redacted] hours on [Redacted], local law enforcement was alerted to a disturbance in the town of [Redacted]. Upon arrival, officers discovered a horrifying scene: thirty civilians deceased in a ritualistic formation around a newly formed rift. Each individual was positioned kneeling, blindfolded, gagged, and with hands tied behind their backs. Signs of struggle and distress were evident.
OBSERVATIONS:
1. Rift Characteristics:
* The rift measured approximately [Redacted] meters in diameter.
* Preliminary scans indicate the rift's energy signature matches known interdimensional breaches but shows anomalies that suggest artificial manipulation.
2. Victim Analysis:
* All victims were local residents, ranging in age from 22 to 65.
* Preliminary autopsy reports suggest the cause of death as asphyxiation.
* All victims had sigils cut into their flesh. [sigils can be found on page(s) 12 & 13]
* No immediate signs of physical violence or weapon use; however, the psychological torture element is clear.
3. Area Survey:
* No witnesses have come forward; surveillance systems in the area were found disabled.
* Environmental analysis shows no signs of chemical agents or residues that could suggest an explosion or natural disaster triggered the event.
HYPOTHESES:
1. Forced Summoning: The arrangement of the bodies and their proximity to the rift suggest a forced summoning scenario where these individuals were used as a catalyst or offering to open or stabilize the rift.
2. Controlled Experimentation: The precision of the rift’s characteristics suggests that this event was not an accident but a controlled, experimental manipulation of rift technology.
RECOMMENDATIONS:
1. Security Measures: Immediate reinforcement of dimensional monitoring protocols.
2. Investigation Expansion: Engage with interdimensional experts and increase surveillance on known rift manipulators.
3. Community Support: Psychological and community support for the town to deal with the trauma and media attention.
CONCLUSION:
This incident marks a significant escalation in the use of rift technology as either a weapon or gateway to an unknown goal. The ability to artificially create and manipulate rifts poses an immense threat not only to national security but also to the fabric of reality itself. It is imperative that this investigation receives full support to uncover the parties responsible and to prevent further incidents of this nature.
With all the redacting I'm surprised anything gets done...
After reading the report I looked up at Selena as she cracked open an energy drink. “So they failed…” I looked back up at her, searching for confirmation in her weary eyes.
She took a long gulp of her drink before responding, confirming the suspicion. "Yes, their objective, whatever it was they intended by opening that rift, clearly wasn't met. The autopsy revealed that the victims were deceased before the rift even fully manifested. And regarding the items recovered..." She gestured towards a heavily sealed briefcase surrounded by sigils and a central cross.
"Demonic artifacts..." I murmured, my blood beginning to boil.
"Exactly," she affirmed, her voice firm. "And I've been tasked with untangling this mess." She paused, her gaze drifting away momentarily as if weighing her next words. "Chronos, I’m not asking for your involvement. You’ve been pulled into enough of my cases, and Amelia wouldn't forgive me for dragging you into another. I’m only telling you because you would have found out one way or another. Since it has some essence regarding demons I know you, without a doubt, would have joined the investigation."
You know me too well.
Her sincerity was palpable, but the underlying tension hinted at the grave nature of the situation. "But if it comes to it, and I need your expertise, would you help me?"
My nod was solemn. "You know I will, Selena. Just give the word."
A grateful smile crossed her lips, mixed with relief. "Thank you. Let's hope it doesn't come to that. But I'll keep you in the loop. Now, what brings you here, really?"
"Rai," I said simply. "You remember my Disciple?"
She chuckled. "The prodigy you can't stop talking about? Raiden was his name, yes?"
"There's a reason to be proud." I brushed off her teasing. "But there's an issue. He's 15 and still hasn’t awakened. No revelation, nothing."
She paused, her drink halfway to her lips. "And? It’s not uncommon for awakenings to happen later on. Last week a man at the age of 82 had awakened. What makes you think he's different?"
"I believe something is blocking him from his revelation."
Her brow furrowed in skepticism. "And what leads you to believe that?"
"His commitment and passion are unmistakable, he’s driven by combat, yet no insights have come. It's as if there’s a wall."
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she processed the information, the usual spark of intrigue beneath her ostensibly indifferent facade. "Did you feel it then?" she inquired, her tone casual but her interest barely veiled by a thin layer of professional detachment.
"Yes," I affirmed, my response firm and clear. "But there’s no physical marker, no sigil or seal. I’ve checked thoroughly, Selena. Nothing."
"And his aether realm?" She continued, her feigned disinterest slipping as the topic piqued her curiosity.
"I’ve been there, and it’s... unusual, which is why I need your expertise," I explained, knowing full well that the mystery would be irresistible to her.
A light flickered in her eyes, the scientific fervor she often masked flaring up. "You, Chronos Elior, asking me to dive into potential blockages in an awakening? It must be a compelling anomaly if it’s got you reaching out."
She leaned forward, her initial show of indifference crumbling as her enthusiasm for a new challenge took over. "So, when do I get to meet him?"
"That depends on your schedule," I replied, watching her carefully.
She paused, momentarily caught off guard by the realization of what I said. "You haven’t registered him yet, have you?"
"No, I haven’t," I admitted, watching her reaction closely.
"Why not? You could easily register him as your disciple, ensuring a smoother transition once he awakens." Her frustration was evident, though tinged with a hint of excitement at the complexities of the situation.
I grinned, acknowledging her astute understanding. "Because, Selena, if he were to gain that level of clearance and start meeting with an Ascendant of your caliber regularly, he’d be on too many radars."
Her expression shifted from irritation to a begrudging acknowledgment. "I suppose that’s strategic, albeit overly cautious. But given the stakes, understandable." She leaned back, her scientist’s mind already turning over the possibilities. "Fine, I’ll play along with your cautious approach. But you owe me, Chronos."
And just like that, you’ve fallen prey to your own curiosity.
“No, I think I'll have paid you back in full once you see this,” I said with a nod. "And, honestly, you'll be the one wanting to buy him out."
Her attempt at nonchalance faltered as her true interest shone through. "Well, when you put it that way... I’m all ears. What’s so special about this kid?"
"I believe there's something preventing him from awakening, something not just physical but deeply intertwined with his aether core and realm."Her eyes lit up, the veneer of indifference now completely abandoned in favor of overt enthusiasm. "Now that does sound fascinating. You know I can't resist a good challenge." She smirked, her earlier pretense of disinterest replaced by an eagerness that was all too characteristic of her when presented with a new scientific puzzle.
Seeing her barely contained excitement, I couldn't help but chuckle. "Exactly why I came to you, Selena."
Suddenly, her demeanor shifted to one of exaggerated awe, and she playfully wiped the corner of her mouth as if catching drool. "Oh, the thought of exploring an aether realm that’s stumped even you? Hold on, is it my birthday?!" She clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"So, when can I meet this prodigy of yours?" she asked, leaning forward, her earlier casual demeanor replaced by keen interest.
"Let's set up a time for you to meet him," I suggested, knowing that her scientific curiosity was now fully piqued.
"Perfect," she replied, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement. "This might just be the most interesting project I've had in years!”
Selena sprang from her seat with a vigor that seemed to come from nowhere, her eyes alight with the thrill of a new challenge. "Hold on, I have just the thing to make our meetings a bit more... exclusive," she announced, before plunging headfirst into the chaotic sea that was her lab. All while wiping drool from her face.
From where I stood, it was like watching a conductor orchestrating a symphony of clutter. She weaved through piles of papers, dodged precarious stacks of tech, and navigated past whirring gadgets. Each time she unearthed something from the rubble, she'd inspect it briefly before discarding it with a decisive "Nope!"
"Ah, here we are!" Her voice cut through the clatter of discarded tools as she emerged victorious, brandishing a device that looked suspiciously archaic. "This old beauty," she waved it proudly, even though it was cloaked in a thick layer of dust, "will tweak our portal settings for one-way traffic straight to this lab."
As she blew on the device, a cloud of dust billowed out, prompting me to step back and shield my face. "You might want to give that a clean," I suggested, my voice muffled behind my hand.
"Nonsense, a bit of dust adds character!" Selena retorted cheerfully, already tinkering with the gadget. "Now, if I can just remember which button not to press..." Her fingers danced over the buttons as she muttered to herself, occasionally causing minor avalanches of nearby tools.
I couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe try the one that doesn’t look like it’ll start the apocalypse?"
Pausing, she glanced down at the gadget, considered it for a moment, then shrugged. "Eh well I modified this years ago. Matter of fact it reminds me I should find the other one my ex boyfriend might still have, but eh, it needs my approval first." With a gleeful grin, she pressed a particularly ominous-looking button.
You dated someone?
The device hummed to life, and after a few tense moments, which included a near-miss with a teetering beaker, Selena triumphantly declared, "Done! Now we can have our little meetings without prying eyes. Just you, me, and my new toy- I mean, your disciple."
I couldn't suppress a chuckle at her phrasing, shaking my head at the unmistakable spark of mischief in her eyes. "Only you, Selena, could turn a seemingly mundane calibration into a passion project."
She waved off my comment with a flourish, and tossed me the small device she had hunted down. "Yeah yeah, now shoo. Come by tomorrow anytime. I’d much rather you bring him here now. Which reminds me, why haven’t you?"
My hesitation didn't go unnoticed, and as realization dawned on her, her laughter filled the room. "No... are you actually hiding your strength?" She set down her energy drink, a wide grin spreading across her face. "You filthy weeb, you're pulling the ‘secretly strong teacher’ trope?"
Her laughter, rich and unrestrained, echoed through the cluttered lab, and my face turned hot with embarrassment. "You know very well why I hide it," I said while scratching the back of my neck. "Regardless, sometimes a teacher wants to look cool to their disciple."
"Ah, Chronos," she teased, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Never change, Amelia was always happy being around you and taking part in your little antics.” She smiled warmly, “Alright, keep your secrets, I expect you to tell him about yourself. But don’t keep me waiting too long. I'm dying to meet this prodigious disciple of yours."
With that, she shooed me towards the portal with a playful shooing gesture, her earlier seriousness replaced by the lively demeanor that made her such an enigma. I stepped into my portal and found myself back in the corridor near the A.A. portal. I pulled out the small device that Selena handed me.
The device in question, despite its significance, bore the humble appearance of a simple memento, the kind one might carry for good luck or sentiment. It was roughly the size of a palm, with the thickness akin to a Sharpie permanent marker, making it both discreet and portable. The outer casing was crafted from a dark, aged metal, etched with intricate carvings that whispered of ancient craftsmanship and long-lost techniques. These engravings spiraled around the device, converging towards the center where a gem was embedded, a clear, luminescent aptum crystal. This crystal pulsed faintly with a soft light, I could sense the aura inside the crystal. Its aura felt similar to Selena’s, so she basically made this device a key to her house. Yes, that lab is basically her house.
I guess I”ll just call it a key then. She never really names anything she creates.
With the key in hand, I do believe it’s finally time for Selena and Rai to meet. This… should go great. Right?