Much, much later, the tiniest of ripples propagated the periphery between the new galactic hub and its enlarged forbidden zone.
Because of the settling gravity waves, it was difficult to distinguish at first. However, as it grew in size and intensity, there could be no doubt. Someone—or something—was trying to traverse that boundary unseen.
With infinite slowness, a sublayer of lower space was manipulated, eventually becoming translucent enough to peer through. Apparently satisfied, the watcher then peeled back a final strand of actuality to reveal a small party of travelers.
Bursting with pride, Charon boasted to his companions: See! Did I not say I would escort you safely through my domain?
Your domain! Lucifian snapped: Don’t forget we know what you are . . . worm! The lowest scum of the lowest tier. How fitting you make such an environment your home.
Now, now, boys! Omigin-al chided. We didn’t come all this way just to fight amongst ourselves, did we? After all, Charon has proven his worth twice over.
Sister, has your IQ dropped sharply? Lucifian retorted: Just because he happened to notice the intrusion into lower space and wet himself, doesn’t mean he’s doing us a favor. He probably wants us to do his dirty work for him to save exposing his butt to danger . . . again!
Why don’t we just take a look and see? Bael-zebad insisted, bluntly. He administered a vicious neural shock, silencing the rest of his brethren in an instant.
As eldest and most powerful of those present, his will dominated. So much so, that he followed up his admonishment with another spiteful jolt, prolonging it for long enough to sear the outermost layer of their minds. Relishing in their suffering, he then dismissed their bickering and scrutinized the imposing anomaly spread out before them.
Ancient enmity—deeply submerged—radiated out of the void. Somehow, a profoundly altered consciousness was able to react to their presence.
Jerking away, Bael-zebad almost gave way to panic. But then he seemed to realize the truth. Sachael-Za-Ad’hem was so profoundly immersed within his new condition, he might as well not have existed.
Turning to Charon, Bael-zebad intoned: Well, well, well, my irritating little friend. You were right. You did taste Sachael-Za-Ad’hem’s essence. But the Destroyer wasn’t leading a hunt for the worthless likes of you. Oh no!
He gestured to the unblinking pupil of destruction and crowed: This is all that remains of our former Angel of the Abyss. The fool is following in the footsteps of his closest lackey, Sariel-Jeh’oel, by playing nursemaid to a dying star-whorl.
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Shock radiated throughout the rest of the group. Reacting as one, they tentatively extended their perceptions to test the waters.
He’s right. Do you see?
Can it be true?
Gods! At last!
Beware! He recognizes our invasion into this plane and yet. . .
. . .He can do nothing to prevent it!
Lucifian expressed a valid thought: Brothers! Sister! If this is the case, what of Psiedoni-jah, Hadez’ekiel, Arestartus and . . . ?
Don’t forget Hestan-eal! Omigin-al interrupted: I always liked her.
. . .Whatever! Lucifian growled: We all know Sachael-Za-Ad’hem forced their cooperation. They only went along with his crazy scheme to preserve themselves. But now the bully is gone, what of them and our other brothers and sisters? Surely some must remain?
Fearing to hope, each looked to the other in expectation.
We must inform Mae’loch! Bael-zebad’s suggestion was forced and laced with contempt: I have no doubt he’ll know how to waste this opportunity.
Ushering them toward the breach, Bael-zebad accosted Charon: And you! Make sure the portal is sealed tight. I don’t want anyone knowing we were here who might be able to interfere with my plans. Understand?
Outwardly, Charon was keen to comply: Of course, brother. You need not fear on that account.
But Charon was privy to information the others knew nothing about. To himself, he thought. Though I can’t say Psiedoni-jah will be happy with your aspirations. He knows of other dangers that lurk in the dark . . . and so do I.
As they crowded into the geodesic pocket, Lucifian called to Bael-zebad: Brother. Mae’loch may squander the opening presented this day. You know how he feared the Destroyer, and those who supported him. He may seize on any number of excuses in an effort to delay. . .
Oh, don’t worry, my Lower Echelon sibling! Bael-zebad cut in: If he is foolish enough to procrastinate, it will be his undoing. He may be of Median origin—as was I—but he has allowed himself to petrify. His fire of old now lies cooling in the hearth. He will be no match for us combined. And with Sachael-Za-Ad’hem out of the way, we can set our sights higher. Why should I stoop to being king of the underverse when this sphere now lays open to conquest?
Embracing his companion in false camaraderie, Bael-zebad expounded: Think, Lucifian! None of the Higher Echelon remains. I would ensure the pathetic insects of this realm bent the knee to serve us, as we originally envisaged, for their benefactor now lies stagnating behind us. Spent and impotent.
Lucifian’s aura glittered like blood: I agree, Brother. Though, if I may suggest, a little more nosing by the worm wouldn’t go amiss. I’d hate to go storming in, and discover a legion arrayed against us.
A legion of what? Bael-zebad replied, turning to glower at his Lieutenant: You delude yourself. These are mere humans we’re talking about. They are ours for the taking, and nothing will stop us! As soon as I’ve gathered all those who have the stomach for conflict, we will make our presence known.
Listening in on the exchange, Charon fought to conceal his alarm.
Lucifian voiced his reservations aloud: But that could take years! You know how slowly our kind reacts to change. Especially those still stagnating in solitude.
Nevertheless! Once we have gathered in sufficient numbers, this realm will be ours! Mine! If the worm completes any snooping you feel is necessary by then, all well and good. But I have delayed long enough. The time of waiting is over . . . the time for action is at hand.
As the breach finally closed, Charon’s stray—yet poignant thought, was lost among the background noise proliferating the ether. I somehow doubt the word ‘action’ will aptly describe what’s coming!