Esther surrendered herself to the confusion that was the pyramid protocol. Bitter experience had taught her a long time ago, never to try and anticipate which of the multiple arcs the path would follow. To do so would only make her nauseous.
And it was easy to see why. Every few seconds, the sequence ensured to cycle through a manifestation process. On each occasion, Esther’s molecular template was replicated and projected onward, toward three new entry thresholds. Two would be phantoms, and would quickly dissipate as the patterns dematerialized. The other—the true path—would pitch her forward along an increasingly radical course. Using this method assured she quickly became lost among the numerous trajectories each phase generated.
But there was a price to pay.
Traversing the temporal cambers in such a manner produced an intense rush, making Esther feel like a competitor in the Luge events held at the Winter Olympics. I wonder if Simon managed to tip Yeung off? I’d hate to think we’d gone to all that trouble for nothing. Well, not for nothing!
The psitronic crystal sang warmly, deep within her complexus, happy to be at rest within a familiar environment. I can do all sorts of damage with this little baby.
Without warning, the crystal flared, and began emitting a highly concordant tone.
I’m happy to see you too! She thought.
The timbre deepened, and then swelled alarmingly as if welcoming a long lost friend. I said I’m happy to see you . . . ? What are yo—?
Before Esther could finish her thought, the conduit along which she was traveling deformed, twisting her violently off course. Whoa! What the hell is happening?
Careening wildly from side to side, she was forced to boost her esoteric stabilizing program by more than fifty percent to regain a degree of control. As her balance returned to something near normal, she focused her will, initiating an emergency exit portal.
Her ordeal was far from over. No sooner had she brought her potential to bear, than a gauntlet of arcane might punched through the surrounding quantum matrix and ruptured the temporal sheath encasing her. The fist flared wide, wrapped itself around the shard within her complexus and wrenched hard, hauling Esther to a standstill.
Next, an indecipherable surge pulsed through the many-fingered net, triggering her re-materialization, and dragging her back through the tunnel’s lining into normal space. Expecting a fight, Esther surrounded herself with as strong a shield as she could muster and started scanning her immediate surroundings.
For a moment, she hung in the vacuum, confused. There . . . there’s nobody here?
Brightness enfolded her in a blanket of diffuse sparkling light. However, that illumination was muted and distant. Although coming from billions upon billions of suns, they were so far away they appeared as nothing more than pinpricks, peppered across a sheet of card. To reach them, she would have to traverse an immense abyss.
Adjusting her perspective, Esther comprehended just how large that abyss was. I’m at the center of a galaxy. A huge kick-ass galaxy!
Something about it rang with such familiarity it tugged at ancient recollections.
Then realization hit her. Hang on! That means I should be right on top of a singularity? Dread followed, hot on its heels. Oh fuck, no!
Oh fuck, yes! An overwhelmingly powerful presence cut in out of nowhere: You failed to appreciate just how intimate my connection to the crystal would be, didn’t you?
Effulgence erupted about her, and Esther found herself surrounded by faces from the distant past . . . and one that she’d seen much more recently.
You! Her mind gasped, utter astonishment preventing her from processing the revelation clearly.
On impulse, Esther attempted to call on the support of the psitronic crystal to strengthen her defenses. Her efforts were in vain. The shard flew from her grasp and blazed into life, burning more intensely than she thought could ever be possible.
And as magnificent as that sight was, it was lost against the dazzling radiance of the individual embracing it.
I missed you too, Sachael-Za-Ad’hem crooned: You never called. You never wrote. What was I supposed to think?
It took Esther a moment to realize he was addressing her, not the crystal. If she supposed Sachael-Za-Ad’hem’s humor might be indicative of a more tolerant demeanor, her hopes were crushed when she espied the barely restrained blackness at his core. I’m screwed!
They’d all known it would happen if he stayed too long on this sphere of reality.
Generated to unleash divine destruction upon those who dared to oppose the Prime Source, the true Angel of the Abyss was as deadly as he was immutable. Only one creature of a higher magnitude had ever been engendered. The Archangel. And he wasn’t here to help.
In this realm, untendered by the calming, restorative effects of Ultimate Bliss, the dreadful disposition of Sachael-Za-Ad’hem’s cardinal attribute was breaking down the walls of his dogged persistence and rigid devotion to duty.
Gradually, but inevitably, the Destroyer was breaking free.
Esther’s spectral brilliance faltered. Horrified, she asked: Will you kill me now?
Soon! He replied, his inflection devoid of emotion. An all-pervading chill closed in about her: It’s what I was made to do, after all. Anyone who violates His decrees without remorse must be eradicated.
Sachael-Za-Ad’hem’s consciousness entered hers with appalling ease, despite the bewildering array of precautions she’s added to her psi-well over millennia.
That act alone brought home a terrible truth to Esther.
All those years ago, they’d made their plans . . . she and her cohorts. Conniving. Maneuvering. Plotting. Scheming. They thought he’d gone soft. Lost his ability or resolve to act as the centuries passed slowly by.
How wrong they’d been.
Sachael-Za-Ad’hem had remained faithful. Determining to offer no resistance, he’d let them choose their own path—their own destiny—without an ounce of coercion from him. In doing so, they’d sealed their own doom.
Esther knew Sachael-Za-Ad’hem could read it plainly now, as his psyche swarmed through the bleakest recesses of her ego. Digesting the depth of her depravity, he witnessed the lengths she would gleefully go to, to extend the suffering of those she had always view as lowly insects.
Trying to divert his attention, she argued: It’s never been about His statutes! You’ve always sought . . . sought to . . . AAARGH!
Undiluted pain coursed through her complexus. All of it driven by a relentless wave of malice that scorched her neural pathways to the cusp of termination.
Sachael-Za-Ad’hem severed the flow of his attack abruptly: You forget yourself . . . Sister. I have never sought or welcomed the pedestal upon which my feet have been set. And although Fallen, I was humble enough to listen to Heimdhariel’s admonition from the outset. As was Sariel-Jeh’oel. You were there. Do you not remember Heimdhariel’s words?
‘. . .In your disgraced condition, you are forbidden to interact with those who are untainted. You are forbidden to reveal this judgment to any whose origin is not of the Host. Only the truly penitent may one day hope to achieve consolation. Go now and reflect on the actions that led to your just proscription. . .’
Did you choose to suppress this fact?
Esther had no answer.
The Destroyer continued: Heimdhariel’s departing warning contained a source of hope for those who were not overly consumed by narcissism and the bitterness of their own failure. The Prime Source has no reason to resort to deception. Indeed, he would be incapable of such treachery. No! By excising our corruption from the heavenly realm, he also grafted a new goal for us to work toward. An eventual return home.
Home! Esther spat, her anger overcoming her fear: Are you mad? Do you ever think that could possibly happen?
As soon as she uttered those words, Esther thought she might have pushed her luck too far and braced herself against an instant, deathly reprisal.
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Amazingly, Sachael-Za-Ad’hem remained an oasis of calm. After a moment or two had passed, he asked: Tell me . . . Sister. Have you been so intent upon your course to self destruction that you failed to notice the absence of your brother, Sariel-Jeh’oel? He who was the eldest and wisest of all to Fall. Are you seriously telling me that you—one of our most adept artificer’s of the Median Echelon—failed to notice he is no longer with us?
Esther faltered. Sariel-Jeh’oel?
Casting her mind far and wide, she expanded her astral sight in a search for Sariel-Jeh’oel’s distinct signature. Distance wouldn’t really matter to one of his office, as his nexus was extremely conspicuous and would have seeded the universe, wherever he chose to go. For one of her talents, it would be an easy matter to discern the resonance of his passage.
The only location she detected any such echo was here, at the place he had selected to begin his labors, so very long ago.
Sachael-Za-Ad’hem edged closer and opened the vault of his memories to her: We had only just arrived on this plane. Because of my more . . . aggressive nature, I looked ahead, millions of years into the future. To me, that was the only way I could envisage a work worthy enough to qualify for my reunification. Our dear brother thought differently. I must admit, he threw me with his very unique and innovative idea. Replaying a part of the conversation between them, Esther heard Sariel-Jeh’oel’s voice begin:
‘. . .Oh, don’t worry too much. I wouldn’t leave you completely alone with such a monumental task ahead of you. I’ll wait until after the intervention has been initialized before I begin my own personal penance . . . I was thinking here would be as good a place as any?
What? You intend to fulfill the function of a singularity?
It will be a sound place to start. Who knows? It might even work! If you read between the lines, I think Heimdhariel was trying to give us a hope as we were cast down. . .
. . . I’d like to think so anyway. . .’
Esther was moved. Moved and confused. She whispered: So he did it? He actually did it? He . . . He did return, didn’t he?
Affirming her suspicions, Sachael-Za-Ad’hem replayed the moment Andrew had assisted him in his closest friend’s restoration to the Higher Plane.
As she watched, Esther’s emotions threatened to run away with her. She pined aloud: Home. . .
As the awesome scene faded, Sachael-Za-Ad’hem concluded: Do you see now, with eyes unveiled? Had you not been so set upon the road to ruin, you would have tasted his absence. Discerned the reasons—even interred as you were—and known the path to penitence was inveterate.
So it is possible? It’s real! We can go home?
Not you . . . not now! Sachael-Za-Ad’hem stated bluntly, darkening even further.
A ripple passed through his essence. More gently, he stressed: I act as I was purposed to do. But I will allow you time to say your goodbyes.
He gravitated away slightly.
Overflowing with sorrow and regret, the softer radiances of Aslan-di’el, Gaia-le’el, Gazad-riel, Ocean-az’el, and Olinda crowded around Esther. Using Esther’s given name, Olinda addressed her: You have become eclipsed, Hestan-eal. Despite the expansion we perceive within your psi-well. I always hoped you would . . . would. . .
Join us! Aslan-di’el stressed Olinda’s point: Or at the very least, we’d hoped you would offer us the benefits of your Higher genesis. We could have realized wonders beyond imagining.
You were a Median! Gazad-riel added: You could have accomplished so much good in support of Sachael-Za-Ad’hem. Or simply declined to intercede in the way we all did at first. Pity! We will miss the grace of your presence upon this circle once it has been extinguished.
Dryly, Esther indicated her waiting executioner and countered: Oh, I’m sure you’ll find he makes good use of my energies. You know the way he is. How he’ll undoubtedly act. Every time he does, just think of me!
Oh, but I won’t! Sachael-Za-Ad’hem interrupted: I do not desire or need anything from you. I will, however, ensure to make an example of you as I make certain the twins are enhanced by your vitality . . . and the knowledge you think is hidden within your nexus.
And how will you manage that for them from here? Esther gasped: Unless you’ve got them hidden away nearby. You can’t preserve my ess . . . I mean. That’s impossible!
How far you have fallen! His certainty cut Esther’s protestations short: Looking inward, you forget the capacity of those older, wiser, and far stronger than yourself. Even here in Tartarus, I am not without finesse.
Sachael-Za-Ad’hem surged toward her and abruptly paused just beyond the limits of her threshold. Esther tensed, waiting for the blast of arcane majesty that would send her reeling into oblivion.
It never came.
Mystified, she watched as one delicate strand of Sachael-Za-Ad’hem’s tincture continued to flow forward. It wavered for a moment, like seaweed caught in an invisible current, apparently searching for something. Then it suddenly stabbed out, and Esther felt herself impaled upon an excruciating blade of ice.
Pierced to the core, she froze, screaming.
Unbelievably, the pain cut off only almost immediately as Sachael-Za-Ad’hem unexpectedly withdrew. What?
His visage held no mercy: Like I said, I need to send a message. Simply destroying you here, now, would defeat my purpose.
Signaling the others, he turned and began leading the group away, dismissing her as if she was of no further consequence.
Is he sparing me? Letting me go so that his infernal offspring have the sport of hunting me down? Esther was about to ask what was going on, when she sensed it.
Something had changed. Something deep inside.
One moment, she was whole. Complete and intact. The next, she encountered a sudden empty hollowness spreading through the breadth of her form. A kernel of her soul cracked open and started bleeding, filling her psi-well with ichor. She moved to cauterize the wound, only to discover her efforts compounded the issue. No!
A numbing cold leeched from her psychic nexus. Radiating outward, it encompassed her in a halo of brittle frigidity. Escalating, it sank to the very center of her complexus whereupon it began to weave an arcane network of power.
Waves of concentric energy throbbed inward, each more powerful than the one before. Pressure mounted. Within a short period of time, Esther could feel her identity slewing away from the crux of her existence.
A hyperspatial gateway opened right on top of her, swallowing her whole.
Esther was then compressed through a geodesic stream, the likes of which shouldn’t have been possible. Not here. Not in this sphere.
What have I done!
Moments later, she emerged someplace else entirely.
*
Stripped of her magnified authority, Esther crashed to the floor in human form in front of a very startled group of people. Bleeding and broken, she rolled over on the ground and tried to get her ruined body to breathe. Jeeesus! I can’t . . . What the . . . ?
It took a few moments for Esther to realize that the roiling, seething, mass of energy spitting and flaring in the air above her was her former transcended essence. In some unfathomable way, Sachael-Za-Ad’hem had ripped it from her and managed to keep it intact.
A pair of smaller gateways opened. Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, her psi-well was divided into two distinct parts and spirited away.
And still the torment continued.
Coming out of their collective shock, Lei Yeung, Simon Cooper, and Angelika Papadakos rushed toward her. Esther barely acknowledged they were there. She was too appalled. I’m on Earth? He jumped me all that distance in one go? How?
Finding her voice, at last, she began to scream.
Ineffable misery coursed through her nervous system. It seemed to Esther that her atoms had been set ablaze. Nothing she could do would ease the mounting torment.
Her suffering took on a new twist as an irresistible compulsion seized what was left of her will. Irrespective of the pain, she was forced to sit bolt upright and remain motionless while she repeated a message implanted into her consciousness just before Sachael-Za-Ad’hem had discarded her like refuse.
Between sobs of agony, she hissed: “You—all of you—are undone. Surrender now and your punishment will be more lenient. That I promise. Resist and the twins will be relentless in ensuring your fate becomes an example others whisper in fear for all eternity!”
Suddenly free, Esther sagged back to the floor. The burning increased. Horrified, she watched aghast as her arms and legs began dissolving.
“Who has done this to you?” Yeung gasped, alarm etched clearly across his features.
I must . . . I must warn. . . Ignoring him, Esther turned her head while she still could.
Fixing Simon with a look of utter hopelessness, she burbled and sputtered one last, garbled sentence before her molecules were obliterated.
*
“What was that? What the fuck did she say?” Sobbed Angelika, her face mottled to an unhealthy gray by fear and revulsion. Glancing repeatedly between her two companions, she was clearly impatient for someone to answer.
Yeung was too overcome by shock to help. Something else was on his mind. Just loud enough for the others to hear, he mumbled, “Did you see how she crumbled to dust? It must have been agonizing? But . . . how did she manage to teleport while so badly injured?”
“She didn’t!”
“What?” Yeung and Angelika spoke in unison.
“I said, she didn’t teleport,” Simon repeated. “He did it!”
Simon had stumbled backward as Esther died. Even in the subdued light of the office, Yeung could see his Fallen associate had lost his composure entirely. Ashen and sweating profusely, Simon kept staring at the corners of the room as if he expected to be jumped at any second. And no matter how much Yeung tried, Simon wouldn’t be rushed.
Under the circumstances, that was totally unacceptable.
SIMON! Yeung projected: Take a breath and tell us! We need your insight. We need to know how to respond, and quickly. If it’s frightened you this badly, then it must be serious. So break it down if you can . . . what did she say and how will it affect us?
Making a huge effort to remain calm and set an example, Yeung motioned toward the nearest couch.
Mercifully, Simon obeyed. Flopping down heavily in the seat at one end, he ran his fingers through his sodden mop of hair, cleared his throat, and said, “She only uttered a brief phrase, but those words will spell the end of us . . . unless some miracle prevents it.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Angelika seemed on the verge of throttling someone. “What? What did she say?”
“‘The Destroyer has returned!’”
Without knowing why, Yeung suppressed a shiver.
“Simon,” Yeung said, fighting the urge to let that name or title dominate him, “Why has that got you so scared? Who or what is this Destroyer?”
Simon was so traumatized by the events that had just occurred, that—regardless of the repercussions, irrespective of whatever pursuit might be coming their way—he spent the next twenty minutes explaining to them exactly who the Destroyer was, and why, unless they were very lucky, it was likely they’d all soon be dead.
By the time Simon had finished his tale, Yeung’s heart was beating so wildly in his chest, that he thought it might induce a coronary.
Recalling his wits, he found Angelika’s gaze boring into him. “Ghost protocol?” She murmured.
“I don’t think that will suffice on this occasion, my dear, especially with what we’ve done to the west coast of America and out in the Arabian Sea.” Yeung shrugged his shoulders in resignation. “No! The only chance we have now lies with Specter. Fortunately, Esther wasn’t as deeply involved in the project as she thought.”
He sighed, deeply. “See to it, would you? There’s a lot to do in a very short space of time.”
Angelika nodded once. As she turned to leave, she checked her stride. Over her shoulder, she called out, “And the new psidentities?”
“Ah, yes! Would you have your young man join us at the lab? Better do it now, before everything really begins to hit the fan.”