Balthazar was reading a report. He read a truly unfortunate amount of them. While angels lacked the paper and physical tooling that the creatures of the material realm used to transfer their reports, it had not stopped the energy beings from utilizing the System to construct similar tools for messaging. While many celebrated innovation and Balthazar’s higher consciousness too resonated with his kin, the actual task of reading the many reports was arduous. He longed for the day when the System would yield a class or advancement that came with a skill to read them quicker. Until then, so it went that he had to slowly read them or as much as the way he consumed them could be called “reading” anyway.
The reason Balthazar had so many reports to read was that he oversaw intervention upon the world of Zlithia. Angels had to be trained to interact with the locals, learn their language or languages, and have System-granted skills to solve the problems for which they might be called upon. They couldn’t send anyone down there upon receiving a summons. The wrong person could cause a diplomatic incident, misinterpret the request, or otherwise create a situation which would result in Balthazar receiving more reports. That could not be allowed.
Zlithia was a fairly stable world as they went. The inhabitants rarely grew to high levels. Most of the flora did not level and most of the fauna rarely lived long enough to gain the amount of power required to endanger all the rest. It possessed a dungeon infestation but there were worlds far worse off and the locals on Zlithia were somewhat active in managing it. That was more than some worlds could say.
Plus Zlithia had so many unique inhabitants. Arslan, Celian, Fomorian, Lunarian, Tevrite, and more were scattered about the planet. The world was enormous by the standards of his people and had a truly astonishing number of sapient and near-sapient species. This made it an absolute delight to watch as well as veritable nightmare to unify. Without relocating various indigenous peoples to other worlds more aligned with their own beliefs, it would be a very, very long time before Zlithia ever reached utopia status. That was if it reached such a status at all. Either way, it meant Balthazar had a quiet and cozy task as planetary overseer.
The conflicts were small. The stakes were small. The required oversight was small. There had never been a Zlithia-related emergency in his tenure as overseer.
“There’s a Zlithia-related emergency!” came the pulse of information from Adjutant Xander.
Overseer Balthazar quietly pulsed satisfaction at the sound. Some poor overseer had to deal with an emergency. He didn’t envy the angel who’d have to handle that. He was so thankful he was in charge… of… Zlithia. His contented pulsing ended as the name of the planet finally interfaced with his core. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no! That was his planet’s name!
“Xander, what’s going on?” Balthazor pulsed his reply while closing the information streams of his many reports. For any other reason, he would be thankful for interruption and postponement. This one was different.
“Overseer,” Xander’s pulsed respectfully and began resonating with the overseer, “Brivaria has returned from an intervention. Something is wrong with her. The medical staff was summoned to investigate as soon as she arrived.”
“Take me to her.” While angels could and did communicate with one another across long distances as a matter of form, Balthazar had a responsibility to be near his charges and to add his resonance to theirs to aid their recovery. Xander thrummed with sadness.
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“We can go to where she is being stored but no one is allowed near her. The first diagnosis of her condition indicated its capability of spreading. She has been quarantined.” Xander’s information was communicated quickly as they moved.
Angels in their home did not move through physical space in the same way material beings did. They organized dedicated and highly efficient routes of movement. Once upon a time they’d tried explaining these paths to a mortal species to which they’d been called “roads.” This was both an accurate analogy of function yet a wholly inaccurate one of both necessity and form. After the third response of “so roads?” the angels had given up attempting to explain the nuance of their travel and the unfortunate vernacular had somehow stuck. Balthazar resonated with his peoples’ desire to engage in local dialects though he adamantly refused to call the advanced pathways roads.
“Here we are, sir,” Xander pulsed. The two arrived moments after their departure. Due to the time dilation of advanced pathway travel among other ways the angels existed, the concepts of time and age did not hold the same meaning for them as the many races of the multiverse. These were tangible, mutable things in ways other races could not even comprehend, let alone replicate. As with the pathways themselves they had once attempted to explain this to which the response had been “so, really fast?” Communication breakdowns were very unfortunate.
“What is happening to her?” Balthazar pulsed in confusion and worry as they analyzed Brivaria’s temporary storage location. The young angel was degrading. Her body, her true body, was coming apart. The two joined the resonance of the others monitoring the wounded angel.
“Ah Balthazar, sorry for the unfortunate transmission. Brivaria is posing quite a problem.” The information signature was from Anriel, one of the more specialized healers who monitored the status of incoming and outgoing intervention angels.
“Please, give me the full details.” Balthazar pulsed with worry and concern. Brivaria was one of his best charges. While not always the most delicate, Zlithians often responded favorably to her interventions. She’d spent the most time assisting Arslan populations and her material form had been constructed to adopt some of their features. She was a talented angel and Balthazar resonated particularly strongly with her.
“Something was embedded into her just before retrieval. It is linked directly to her energy matrix but it is responding extremely negatively to the lack of a casing. Perhaps we could have cut it away from her had we known of it before retrieval but now it is fully integrated with her and drawing upon her own life force to survive. If we don’t something quickly, it will kill her. We suspect it has already removed over one hundred levels and is draining more even now.” Anriel’s information came in quick, succinct pulses. It was delivered clinically but Balthazar could feel her resonating with sorrow. He knew before the information even arrived that she had no solution.
“It needs a casing. Can we reconstitute her intervention body on Zlithia?” Balthazar did not like the idea of putting Brivaria on the planet long term but he liked the idea of losing his young charge even less.
“We can.” The information pulse was delayed as though Anriel was reluctant to send it. Another came swiftly. “That is, we can but it will need some adjustments for longterm intervention.”
“Make them. Xander, prepare the needed supplies for material existence. Ensure she is provided replacements for any damaged items from her previous intervention. Put it all together as fast as possible. She is disintegrating at this very moment. We will find a cure for her condition but right now we save her.” The strength of Balthazar’s pulse even surprised the angel himself.
Xander and Anriel hurried off to make ready to send Brivaria back to Zlithia. Balthazar was left to watch over Brivaria. Balthazar had known Brivaria since she first formed. She’d been a kind, inquisitive child. He’d resonated with joy the day she decided to help other species across the multiverse through intervention. Now he could feel her suffering at a distance. He wanted so badly to go to her, to resonate with her so that she would know everything would be okay. Everything would be okay. They’d find a way to get her home. He would find a way to get her home and he would review the logs to find out who or what had done this.