July 22, 2022 - 5:10pm

Pretoria Zoo, Pretoria, South Africa

Victor paced back and forth, his atma crackling with impatience. Inactivity was torture. Each inquiry about the next step of their plan was met with the same disappointing command; wait. There was nothing for him to do but wait. Daisy tinkered with her strange plant hybrids while they were drip-fed information from their satellite members. Lucia came back from her side adventure with the anomaly and shut herself in. Iosef stepped in and out of the living world, but never did more than tend to the zoo’s tiger, the last remnant of the place’s previous owners.

“What the hell are we waiting for!?” He yelled, startling nearby laughing doves. The wind responded to his query with the rustle of leaves.

“This is the worst!”

“Are you a child?” David King appeared behind him, soundlessly, as usual.

“We know where his body is! That annoying little bitch can grab it, too. Let’s revive the boss and get to the good stuff already! Nobody wants to watch a movie that gets boring in the middle.”

“You’re not— nevermind. There’s more to the plan than reviving the boss, you know.”

Victor calmed down.

“Really? Who was gonna tell me this?”

“I’m telling you, dumbass,” David replied.

“I’m not a dumbass,” Victor spat. And he was right, he was a genius. Of course, most of what he knew was in pursuit of the betterment of his technique, but the fruits of that process were ubiquitous, although not immediately obvious from his demeanor.

“Do you wanna know what we’re waiting for or not?”

“Don’t patronize me, King.”

David paused. Agitating the boy was an extreme sport, but at least it made him interesting to be around.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. But listen, it isn’t enough to revive Iosef. Preparations have to be made to go toe-to-toe with Tamara Cain. And then of course, we need to get rid of the Elders as well. This all has to be done in ‘two swift motions’, as Lucia put it.”

The anomaly’s brows furrowed.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said, “Why two?”

“The same action we take to revive the boss must be the same action we take to acquire the necessary tools to go forward with the Plan and get rid of Tamara and the Elders. Think of part one as Acquisition, and part two as Execution.”

Victor mulled it over internally. Finally, the puzzle pieces slowly drifted into position. The only problem was that the picture was still unclear.

“So then part three is Ascension,” he mused. David nodded.

“Exactly. Although, I’m not even sure what that looks like. The only thing the boss says about that is that we will ‘wear the universe as a cloak’. Whatever that means.”

“It means he has an idea of what form godhood takes. We won’t understand until we see it,” Victor crossed his arms.

David chuckled.

“What’s funny?”

“All of you. You and Iosef, maybe a couple of the others are so desperate to escape humanity. Daisy and Lucia are ravenous to improve it. It’s…ironic.”

“And why’s that?”

“You all are the first humans I’ve met. And here you are, rushing to leave it behind. I can’t begin to guess why, but I’m greatly amused.”

The white-haired maestro took a moment to think. There were more reasons to follow this path than not.

“It’s hard to pick just one…”

“I want to be the strongest. Not just the strongest human, or god, or organism. I can hear the universe singing to me… a chant that calls to me. I’m going to be the strongest force in existence…” Victor’s eyes rolled back. Suddenly he thought of Soji.

“Sojiiiiiii…can you hear it too? You’re on the path aren’t you? Have you caught up yet? I’m further along than the others…I don’t want to leave you behind. When can we play again?”

He stretched his arms out, his atma igniting as bright blue flame as he shuddered.

David frowned.

“I hate this guy.”

“King. These preparations you spoke of, what does that entail?”

“That’s actually the reason I’m telling you this now. A couple of us are going directly into New Eden. On the same day we retrieve the boss’s body, we’re going to rob the Saints, and take the Arias for ourselves.”

Victor lit up.

“My excitement is overflowing!”

“Tell me when!?”

“In a month’s time. The Saints are currently scattered, working on various assignments. If we took them out one by one, it’d be easier, but we’d alert the Institute that something was up. Instead, we’ll wait for them to gather for an expedition into the Garden. As usual, they’ll return wounded and tired, and spend a few weeks recovering. That’s our window.”

“But what about Eden’s barrier?”

“There are a couple ways to get past it, although the boss hasn’t decided which one we’ll go with, yet. The first, is to abuse the mechanics of the barrier. Like everything atma, it is not without its conditions. The second is to take advantage of the Institute’s upcoming Visitation Day. They intend to open its doors to maestros worldwide to garner interest and show off their new campus. A certain maestro will get us in.”

Victor rolled his eyes.

“Really? Outsourcing?”

“She’s strong. People even say that if it wasn’t for the Cain Family’s healing blood, she could kill Tamara Cain.”

“You’ve piqued my interest. Who is she?” He grinned.

David looked down at his watch.

“Let’s go get drinks...I’ll tell you on the way, about the maestro called Mother.”

~

Lucia’s naked reflection stared back at her with half the intensity she was used to. Her fingers traced along the edge of her white eyepatch as her mind replayed the sight of her half-brother sawing into her tightly-knit barrier. The glow of his brilliant atma illuminating his dark brown face, and shimmering silver hair, made her wince.

“He actually did it…”

Her hands tightened around the edge of the bathroom sink, tides of rage rising again. Even in death, that man still haunted her. From the moment he’d abandoned her and her mother, to the day she’d faced him for an assignment, Isio Adensanya was absolutely a curse. Everything he created had to be destroyed. The nine blades he forged, and the three children he left behind were legacies she refused to let him have.

Kuro’s breaths mocked her, and his successes angered her, for Isio had once referred to him as his ‘supreme creation’. To cut down that supremacy would be nothing short of euphoric. Lucia finally left the bathroom, and returned to her cramped quarters where she jealously guarded three out of nine of her father’s Symphonies.

Hyena, Dread, and Shatter were the only ones she’d been able to find so far, but Lucia was in a rush. The M.I.I. possessed Melody, and Dispatch, and Kuro had one whose name she did not know. The woman chuckled as she remembered that he hadn’t even learned how to unsheathe the weapon yet. She, like Victor, could barely wait until their group’s next move, as two of the weapons the Institute called Arias were actually Isio’s stolen creations. If everything went according to plan, she’d be so, so close.

“I’m bored!” She said to nobody in particular. It had been a couple days since she used her voice. Tobias and Kyriaki were still recovering from their near-death encounter with Tamara, and Victor creeped her out. With Daisy gone off to one of her labs, there wasn’t much to do but train.

“Hyena, come.”

The deep red sword remained lifeless.

“Ah, that’s right. I haven’t fed you yet. You’re so weird, you know.” She fell back onto her bed, exhausted.

“After all the work that went into gathering those parents together…I don’t feel like finding or producing the bodies for Hyena to eat.”

At a high pitched squeal of laughter, Lucia’s head turned to peek outside the window of her motel room. A young girl skipped excitedly by her father’s side. He held a sealed box containing the latest Playstation, and wore a wide smile that shone with love for his daughter.

“Hm. Should I get a Playstation?”

~

July 22, 2022 - 5:41pm

Pretoria Zoo, Pretoria, South Africa

In a cool, dimly lit room filled with boxes of wax, Venus was hard at work, carving out the final details of a new body for Iosef. As usual, she gave him a sharp jawline, a wide face with a thin nose, and beautiful sunken eyes. When making dolls, she always had one of her favorite celebrities in mind, and happily brought it to life. She mounted her creation, hovering over it so as to not melt its features with her warmth.

Her atma brought forth a single candle, unlit. Its waxen black shaft was sculpted into an elongated skull with a gaping jaw. She fixed the candle into the hole in her sculpture’s chest, parallel to the floor. With her own nail, she pierced her palm, and bled onto the candle. With her eyes closed, she began a distorted prayer.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

In Ginen, oh there are lwa, oh there are lwa,

Oh the family is in Ginen, let’s put our heads

together so we can devour the earth

Stars from the skies of another realm shined in her eyes as she searched for the light of a specific soul.

“Iosef Cain,” she called. Among the constellation of souls, a single pinprick of light shot towards her vision, and landed on the wick of her atma-formed candle. Its wax melted in response to the soul’s blazing purple heat, dripping into Venus’s golem. Life colored its cheeks as his skin reddened. Iosef’s eyes reflected the deep purple atma that once again bound him to the world of the living.

With Venus still on top of him, the man sat up, caressing her face with a smile.

“You claim to have returned me from the dead, yet here I am, in heaven,” he whispered.

The woman rolled her eyes.

“You always say that. Yet you always go back to sleep. ”

“Only so I can have dreams of you,” he replied.

“You’re good,” she chuckled, dismounting him. She threw a robe onto his naked, sculpted body, and picked up some papers resting atop one of the boxes.

As he clothed himself, his memories slowly came back to him, slowing his movements.

“What are those?” He asked.

“Letters from your secret admirers,” Venus said, handing him the first one. His eyes scanned the document before his face broke into a smile.

“Isn’t it interesting that we still do mission reports? Sometimes it feels like we never left. Like we’re some small subsect of the Institute.”

“Feeling sentimental today?”

“Hardly. The place you call my soul from is…disorienting. But it seems that won’t be a problem for much longer. According to this, the technique Lucia’s brother possesses is exactly what we’ve been looking for.”

“Really? I only read that he could erase barriers. The Shiva’s Steel we’re after is held behind a seal.”

“I understand your confusion. But you see, a seal is just a very complex barrier, woven by numerous conditions and self-Contracts. And Lucia’s barriers, like the one around Eden, is closer to a seal than it is a normal barrier.”

“So the boy’s technique could potentially break the seal…”

“Exactly. In light of this, I’ve decided that we’ll make our move on Visitation Day. I’ll get in contact with someone to make it happen. Have you ever been to Seoul?”

“Ooh, are you flying me first class, or will it be the dinghy basement teleportation again?”

“I don’t suppose this body you gave me has a passport?”

Venus sighed.

“Ugh, you First Family types are so stingy.”

“Soon, dear, soon. When my blood runs gold, and my eyes shine like fire, you can even have the skies to wear on your neck.”

“Cornyyyy,” the woman yawned, handing him the rest of the papers.

~

July 25, 2022 - 3:02pm

???, Cochem, Germany

Doc and Tamara walked side by side along western Germany’s cobblestone streets. Between her extravagant white and gold appearance, and his grouchy, dark demeanor, they drew plenty of stares. So far, their search had yielded very little results. They’d swept through the maestro towns and hangouts, but had only been met with tight lips and bolted doors.

If it weren’t for the fact that Tamara saw doors as a suggestion, they wouldn’t have found themselves in Cochem, where it was said the Hardy Boys were expected to rendezvous to collect payment for their work.

“Could you be a little more inconspicuous?” Doc groaned.

“Whaddaya mean? I switched out my lovely tiaras for these stupid glasses. And they’re regular glasses!” She pointed at the ivory-framed cat-eye glasses resting on her face.

“Hopping up and down, and covering yourself in gold sort of negates that,” the man replied.

“Huh…so I could’ve worn my tiaras anyway? Look, it’s not my fault I’m beautiful, people would stare if I wore sweatpants and a zip-up. Plus, we’re in a small German town, I’m surprised nobody’s tried to grab my hair yet.”

“Whatever. There’s still the case of your atma…does your technique need to be active right now? Unless you do that invisibility thing, any decent maestro within a kilometer can sense you.”

“Of course it needs to be active. Without my tiaras, I can’t see 360 degrees. I’d heal from whatever, but you, not so much. So if you think about it, this is really your fault.”

“Tsk, don’t blame me for your machinations. You’re the one playing war general.”

“Not this again.”

“Yes, again. They’re children, not toys for your play battle. If it all goes wrong, only you get to walk away from it. It’s not too late to slow down, and do this the right way.”

“No. That’s death. You said it yourself, Soji’s time is limited. Several forces are making moves right now. Only the first one to the finish line survives.”

“And what is the finish line?”

Doc’s question was met with silence as they kept walking. Neither of them noticed a passerby reach out to touch Tamara’s blonde braids, as her pasty hand phased through the hair.

“For me? No Institute, no First Families, no blooms, no maestros running wild.”

“Who will enforce that?”

“That’s what the kids are for. They’re all strong, worthy of being anomalies, even. It’ll only be a matter of time before they surpass me, especially the Seniors.”

“I suppose that makes sense. And you’re bringing them along for the dirty work because—”

“Because I don’t want them to end up like me. They won’t take peace for granted…they’ll cherish life, and pursue that which promotes flourishing.”

Doc nodded. He was still unable to discern whether she thought she was deceiving him, or if she’d managed to fool herself. There was no doubt that the Cain Massacre altered her— after all, there were seemingly holes in her memory— but Doc couldn’t accept that such a traumatic event changed her for the better. The Tamara he knew didn’t care about building a better world, or worry about training those she perceived as weaker than her. Tamara Cain was a being who knew only her pleasure and displeasure. She was the summit of perfection.

“I suppose this isn’t the worst outcome. I myself don’t know the details, but I know that Adam’s Blood and the Agya make her the strongest Cain, and possibly maestro, in history. It’s better that she appears as this loving and carefree personality, than what I’m used to. If she were to execute this plan of ours with that mentality, it would be a bloodbath.”

“Doc!” Her voice cut through his cocoon of thoughts. The man finally realized that they’d reached their destination, a small bar, and local maestro hangout, Das Bierkaboom. Its exterior fit in with the colorful, folksy look of the town, but warded off visitors with a looming black, alloyed steel door. Steel was a favorite for maestros because of how well it retained atma, for reinforcement reasons and in this case, for communication reasons. Written in atma were the words nur maestros, barring entry for non-maestros. Not that they could’ve seen the writing.

Doc, still enshrouded by Tamara’s technique, was about to take a step through the door, when she pulled him back, phone in her other hand.

“Wait. Vera just texted,” she said.

“What happened?”

“Apparently, Yasu and Dhruv voted to shut down our investigation into the blight user incidents like the one Soji and Kuro survived.”

“What?! Can they do that?”

“Apparently. Vera said that the Elder, Edgar Crane, gave Yasu his voting powers before he disappeared years ago. Typically, Yasu’s vote is countered by Vera’s and my brother’s for certain matters. So it must be serious if she woke Dhruv up for his vote. Let me keep reading.”

“What exactly did you guys find out during your investigation?”

“A lot, but at the same time, not enough. The attacks, taking place in Brazil and Nigeria, all had a few things in common: they were high school seniors, they all had at least one student of Yoruba descent, and these students had some limbs surgically removed after they were killed. And the teams sent to investigate them didn’t just disappear, they were dismissed by the Institute.”

“So they’re hiding something…you don’t think they’re protecting the blight user, are they?”

“No. But it’d be in their best interest to find her first, likely for the same reasons they used to purchase blooms from Miguel’s farm. If I had to guess, Yasu’s thorns are likely leading the investigation.”

“I see…what else?”

“Vera said she was only shut down after she was denied access to the Institute’s Atavistic Archives.”

“Even an Elder can be rebuffed from that ancient library?”

“Suspicious isn’t it? She was going to look for any connection between the Yoruba and blooms. With the investigation shut down, now we have to find Daisy.”

“I mean, is there a reason you can’t just walk in there?”

“I got in there once, when I was six. They added a second seal explicitly banning me after that.”

The two laughed.

“Well then, after you,” he gestured.

Tamara walked through the door, and Doc followed right behind her. The rustic-style bar was empty, save for a single rotund barkeeper wiping off massive mugs with a dirtied white rag. Chairs were planted on the tables, legs raised to the ceiling. It was more than clear that she wasn’t expecting visitors when her eyebrows raised in surprise. She began yelling in German, but was cut short by Tamara shuffling behind her and covering the woman’s mouth with her hand.

“You know who I am, yes?”

The woman nodded, panicked breaths rapidly warming and cooling the palm of her captor’s hand.

“Then let’s not waste any time. The Hardy Boys were supposed to pick up payment from this bar. Don’t deny it, or I’ll raze this place to the ground. Tell me about it.”

Tamara uncovered the woman’s mouth.

“A woman come here to drop off cash. A couple days later, she come back to collect it. I thought she was backstab them. I am only find out they have died a few days ago.”

“Describe the woman,” Doc said.

“S-s-she was short, looked Russian. She wore a black cloak, was covered in tattoos. Th-they were strange things. Bombs, cars, doors…strange things.”

Doc released into his pocket to pull out a napkin with a symbol on it. It was the same six-pronged symbol that Lucia had on her tongue.

“Did she have any that looked like this?” He turned the drawing to the bartender.

The woman shook her head no.

“But, there was something weird about her; she never come in through the front door. It was always out of the bathroom.”

Tamara and Doc shared a look. They immediately rushed for the restrooms.

“I’ll wait out here,” the man said sheepishly. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a moth land on the tavern wall.

Tamara rolled her eyes before entering. She scanned the bathroom for symbols like the one Lucia had. She kicked open one of the stalls whose door reeked of atma. There, she found the faded residuals in the shape of the symbol she was looking for. Even more interestingly, it bore a familiar circuit of atma.

“Omen…I remember you…but the pattern this atma is woven into…it’s like the one the Institute uses for its Keymaster Doors. Your technique allows you to turn objects into tattoos and vice versa. That would explain how the members of that group move around. But you can’t turn yourself into one. You’d need to store something that allowed you to move in and out…like a Keymaster. Come to think of it, the barkeeper mentioned you had doors as tattoos.”

This was a problem. The M.I.I.’s Keymasters were created by the Roses and Talias, and were reserved for assignments and Elders. If Omen had been able to store some of those Doors, they were undoubtedly given to her. Tamara thought deeply about the possibility of someone at the Institute working with Lucia’s group. It would certainly make sense, all things considered. But that would mean that Soji was still in danger.

“Doc and I will have to move even faster to find these guys. But first I’ll need to visit my other students again…there’s an extra precaution I need to take.”

Tamara strolled through the bathroom door, expecting to see Doc waiting for her. The barkeeper was still there, shaking while she continued cleaning.

“Did he go back to the hotel?”

~

The Doc, was in fact, not on his way to the hotel, but was following the very peculiar moth he took note of. As soon as Tamara entered the restroom, he’d pierced the creature with a needle to confirm his suspicion; it was indeed a wraith made from plant matter. By reconfiguring the commands in the atma that animated it, he now watched as it made its way back to its creator.

Eventually, it rested on the white door of a dilapidated beige building covered in plantlife. Even outside, he could feel the presence of blight and atma intermingling. Doc’s chest tightened as his memories of the past resurfaced.

“Daisy…what are you doing?”

Reinforcing himself, he pushed the door open. The sight and stench of the place was more than foul. Severed limbs were strewn all over the place, blighted plants and animals were strapped to tables hidden from the scant beams of light that poked through boarded windows. It was mostly dogs she kept, if they could still be called that. Their flanks sprouted masses that resembled corpse lilies, their fur blackened and matted. The plant-like growths continued into a tree bark appearance on their snouts.

Atma couldn’t protect him from gagging. Doc covered his nose as he took a step forward, needles readied. The sound of the blooms whining at the cold raised goosebumps on his skin.

He only took a few steps before he noticed a slip of paper folded into a triangle to stand upright on the one table that wasn’t housing some horrific creature.

Nice try, Koji.

“This is her handwriting. But she’s already gone? There must be something she overlooked in her rush..”

Although unable to abandon his body’s physical reaction to the scene around him, Koji frantically began to search the abandoned home.

“Papers, journals, anything…”

Unfortunately, Daisy prepared well. There wasn’t so much as a scribble to indicate what the point of all this was.

“I don’t understand…you two were my first loves…how did we end up here?”

Illuminated by a sudden and unconventional idea, he used the napkin in his pocket to protect his hand as he plucked samples of the plants to analyze later. He simultaneously dug his needles into the hearts of the imprisoned animals that were now marred by blight. As his brain flooded with information about their conditions, he put them out of their misery.

“I see…she’s making wraiths out of blighted plants to hijack their nervous systems. But their bodies can’t handle it. Is that why she’s after Soji? Has she really come this far?”

Koji sighed under the weight of the burden his former best friends placed on him. The memories of who they were made watching them march towards death all the more painful. He was unable to shake the awful gut feeling that the approaching conflict would leave nothing behind but a scorched earth.

Tamara waltzed into the room unexpectedly. She carried her typical relaxed countenance until she surveyed the full contents of the place. It had no couches, no television, and no furniture that wasn’t a bloody table. The cold flame of recognition glinted behind her glasses.

“T…did you find anything?”

The woman ignored his question, and strolled right past him to stare down the dark hallway at the end of the tight living room. Her heart pounded inexplicably, and for the first time in years, she felt chills tickling her body. Wisps of atma stained its walls. As she walked down the hallway, incoherent whispers and fragmented images pushed to the forefront of her mind.

A dull sense of discomfort transformed into a splitting headache when she reached a chipping wooden door with a faded bronze handle. Her hand stopped short of it. What is this?

Tamara winced at the cool metal of the handle as she pushed the door open. The room was almost unrecognizable compared to the last time she saw it. The windows were boarded, the bed rank with unidentifiable stains, and the floors crawling with all manner of insects. And yet, all it took was the sight of a rotting wooden chair for memories of the past to flood her brain. This was where Daisy died.

Tears crawled out from under Tamara’s sunglasses.

“Daisy…”