There, in the depths, she found them. Atop a vast, blackened spire, something that her mind interpreted as a volcanic funnel, surrounded by fathomless astral depths, she found a gnarled tree of coral, and a pool filled with a swirling, writhing mass of formless serpents, indistinguishably blending into one another. The Wound-like Grin gaped wide upon the tree, and the affirmation that these were eidolons made itself known to her. Specifically, Grade Three Lesser Eidolons; eidolons comparable to those which had empowered Shiva’s Red Reapers and Yellow Atropals. The deeper into the well she delved, the greater and more powerful the eidolons would grow. That was the knowledge which made itself known to her before the Wound-like Grin vanished.
Through the mass she pushed, further and further still, feeling these kenomaic spirits rubbing against her, yet also passing through her as if she weren’t there. The mass of astral bodies gave way to a bottomless well, eidolons of increasingly greater magnitude hidden within recesses in its walls like eels. There, she went down, and what felt like an eternity passed before one of them shot out of the wall and entered into her ribcage, vanishing within. A second one followed, and what yawning emptiness she had felt upon awakening was suddenly filled, though only most of the way. Curious still she pushed a bit deeper, only to find each and every eidolon drawing back from her, no longer interested. The way above, too, had cleared, and as she exited this strange un-place, she found the writhing mass of astral eels splitting in her wake.
At the shore of the brine pool, upon a branch of the coral-tree, a raven made of smoke awaited, with eyes like burning coals.
It opened its beak, and said: “Gwah. Gwah. Gwah… Wawawawa.”
Then, it closed it, and opened it again. This time, out came a horrible, distorted woman’s voice. No, not just a voice, but an atrociously compressed recording of I love Beijing, Tiananmen. That song had a somewhat macabre connotation, as Goujian II had erased Beijing from the map in his reconquista of the mainland. The first of his fusion bombs had been detonated in the middle of a parade in Tiananmen Square by a brainjacked CCP official who had the bomb implanted in his chest cavity. How that official actually met his unfortunate fate was still a topic of heated discussion in Krahe’s time.
Again, it closed its beak. Were the situation any different, she would have dismissed it, but she felt that it would be exceedingly foolish to dismiss something so explicitly foretold to her in a dream. So, she approached the bird, and, turning its head to stare at her with a single burning eye, it once more made a noise. This time, it was the ticking of a geiger counter, followed by the clatter of something to the ground, and the slamming of two heavy metal objects together. The ticking instantly turned into a scream, and the noise was drowned out by buzzing.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The Raven fell silent, and just as Krahe realized what that sequence of sounds meant, it flew off its perch and dove headfirst into her chest, and no more did she feel an iota of that strange, intangible emptiness. She still felt a strange pull, a call to another place deeper in the Gulf, but she knew better. Barzai had warned of this time and again, and so, she focused her will and carried out the Sign of Return. In an instant, the Astral Gulf fell away and she found herself in the center of the Angle-web, disoriented and gasping for breath.
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Casus had been watching for hours now, cautiously looking out for signs of the angle-web’s failure. Then, when he least expected it, the web collapsed. Unnatural darkness engulfed the room, and as light flooded back in, there came a high-pitched screech. If he didn’t know any better, he would have panicked, thinking that Krahe had just triggered a full-blown Archon Flash. Compared to the tsunami of such an event, this was a wave lapping at the shore, and with it, Krahe washed up. In the middle of the floor, her astral form collected itself, and into it, three shapes of blackest blackness entered. Then, she snapped into physicality, drawing in a desperate breath and glancing about for a few moments.
Before he could express his relief, however, something else began to take place. A distortion made itself known under her bodysuit, right in the center of her chest, like something trying to pull it apart. The viscous material tore, and beneath, a fanged maw into cosmic nothingness yawned open, running the whole length of her chest from the sternum to her waist. Out from the black flew a black bird, made of smoke and with coals for eyes, and the maw snapped shut, vanishing in an instant. The only evidence it had been there - the ragged tear in Krahe’s suit. She stood, seemingly unaware of Casus’ presence, the smokey raven landing on her shoulder.
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It was at this point that Krahe fully regained her bearings and realized Casus was sitting there.
“Thank Zavesh,” he said. “When the clock struck the third hour, I began to consider whether to collapse the angle-web myself. I hope that you’ve succeeded in… Whatever was your reason to dive into the Gulf?”
“Three hours?” she asked, glancing at the clock. It had been over six hours. “...I’ve been down there for six. Christ.”
“Christ?”
“Don’t… Don’t worry about it,” she sighed, struggling to her feet. The Raven hopped off of her shoulder, tilting its head side to side. It moved as if to crow, and the sound of a geiger counter spiking came out, mimicking the sound pattern of a raven’s caw.
“Yeah, I did succeed. Got myself eidolons to work with.”
“You… Carried out a Full Dive ritual and spent several hours in the Astral Gulf in order to capture eidolons? Forgive me for casting doubt on your choices, but I must admit that even I, lackluster as my knowledge of occultism is, must wonder what led you to such a choice in favour of a simpler spirit-calling rite.”
She would’ve thought anyone else was mocking her with such a question, but nothing in Casus’ tone or demeanor suggested that his question was anything other than wholly genuine.