No matter how hard Ben tried, he found it almost impossible to haul himself away from the relentless influence of the gravitational millstone growing behind him.
The CBS correspondent, Megan Bronson, fared little better. Screaming for all she was worth into her microphone, she could barely stand still long enough for her cameraman, Eduardo, to get a clear picture of her, or what was taking place.
And no wonder, for the black hole was now the size of a soccer ball and showed no signs of abating. Its weird rotating halo of sickly light had expanded too, giving the anomaly the appearance of a wrung out, malformed gothic whirligig.
To Ben’s way of thinking, the journalists appeared hyped to the eyeballs on adrenaline and resigned to the inevitability of their fate. That wasn’t an option for him. Clutching an injured fellow Guardian to his side, he was determined to hang on for the vital fifteen to twenty seconds it would take for their ships to pierce the distorted spacetime bubble around the site and pluck them to safety.
That’s if they don’t sacrifice us for prudence sake and initiate the omega protocol…In fact, I’m surprised they haven’t already obliterated this whole area. I wonder why they’re waiting so long?
He could hear ideas being thrown about telepathically between the ships’ captains and High Grand Master Thaleton at the America’s control centre and understood that if nothing concrete was decided fast, that failsafe would be enacted without hope of reprieve.
Exhausted, Ben endeavored to hoist his colleague across his shoulders only to find he was too weak for such a task. Collapsing to one knee, he groaned, and tried to rally his resolve to meet the demands expected of him. He inhaled and forced himself up, only to catch his breath as a tingling sensation in his prefrontal cortex stopped him dead in his tracks.
Ben knew what that prickling signified, and despite the enormity of the calamity unfolding about him, he grinned and started to giggle.
The others turned to stare at him, incredulously.
Ben was something of a celebrity in Guardian circles as he’d always been able to detect and manipulate energy at the quantum level, a skill that should have guaranteed his ability to teleport. Unfortunately, that ability lay dormant, deep within his psychic nexus, forcing him to rely on a T-ring to journey long distances like many of his compatriots.
As if in compensation for this shortfall, destiny had endowed Ben with the aptitude to detect incoming vortices. A rare and highly prized gift possessed by only eight known people.
If someone was to hop a short way – less than a thousand miles – the affair would be almost instantaneous and provide very little warning.
When that someone translocated farther, say, around the planet, they would have to send out an echolocation probe, otherwise known as a leader signal to establish the veracity of their intended manifestation coordinates.
Using this method, a planetary jump could be accomplished in less than two seconds from the time of inception to completion. Travel would still be immediate, but the focusing phase either at end would provide plenty of opportunity for an alert detector to pinpoint the materialization site.
What Ben had perceived was something else, for the leader-tag was of a magnitude he couldn’t begin to fathom. It had started to register almost ten seconds previously, and was still building and ramping and tightening into a coherent beacon so refined, so precise, Ben knew of only one being who might be capable of directing such a beam into the vicinity of a burgeoning singularity.
The quantum wave flared, indicating its originator was now navigating the flux of hyperspace before the signal had locked onto its terminus. Ben couldn’t resist trying to assess its scope, and was stunned to realize the transmission had originated hundreds of thousands of light-years away.
Dropping his associate, Ben slumped to the floor in relief, his mirth drawing a gasp of utter disbelief from the reporter beside him.
“What are you laughing at?” She barked, “Don’t you realize we’re going to die? Do you think that’s freaking funny?”
Ben shook his head and pointed to a spot roughly thirty yards from their position. Weaving an extrasensory element into his voice to make himself heard, he explained, “No, we’re not going to die. Get Eduardo to point his camera over there. You’ll soon see why.”
Despite their grim predicament, the CBS team did exactly as Ben suggested.
Just in time.
One moment an open field spread wide before them, its grassy stalks bending crazily as they were stirred into a frenzy by cyclonic winds. And then a burst of argent brilliance folded out of nowhere, encompassed within an oyster gray penumbra.
A man stepped out of the void, radiating such indescribable majesty, that the tornado and blanketing supercell overhead were nothing but a stifled sigh in comparison.
Though he’d only ever seen him once before, Ben recognized the living legend immediately. The Overlord!
The Overlord seemed imbued by silver lightning intertwined by scintillant ribbons of gold, royal blue and strontium red, a psychic corona painful to behold. Ben tried to focus, but found it too difficult to distinguish where the man ended and the bands of energy began.
Thankfully, the legend suppressed his dominion with every step and by the time he’d reached Ben’s group, only his eyes retained an otherworldly lunar luminescence. He stood there for a moment, taking in the scene, his cape billowing behind him in defiance of the ravages inflicted by the black hole. Then he raised his palm, indicating they should wait.
Without the slightest haste, the Overlord extended the fingers of his opposite hand toward the crater where the twofold bolt had wounded the earth, incinerating the Guardian commander in the process. A green and amber cocoon sprang to life around Grand Master Yasin’s remains. No sooner had the envelopment settled in place, than it was surrounded by multiple loops of vermillion and ivory plasma.
Ben was thrilled to recognize the arcane construct for what it was, and his fascination quickly overcame his timidity. “Sir, is that what I think it is – a Temporal Well?”
The Overlord, the most powerful Guardian ever to exist, replied without effort above the howl of the storm. “You are quite correct, Ben. Commander Yasin managed to protect part of her brain within a shield, so I’ve altered time and phase-shifted her, until I have the opportunity to take a look at the damage properly.” He smiled warmly, the gesture unexpectedly gentle from one so mighty, “Can you imagine how testy she’d get if she was late for work tomorrow?”
Ben snorted at the truth of the observation, as Grand Master Yasin was an extremely punctual individual who abhorred bad manners and tardiness. She was also the type to vent her displeasure on those who made her late, and the Overlord would be no exception.
His amusement dwindled as he realized what had just been implied: Hang on, how could she have possibly survived that? There’s hardly anything left?
The legend extended his will and Commander Yasin’s plasma staff extinguished itself and came hurtling through the air and into his grasp: I guess you’ll find out in a minute, he retorted: once I’ve tidied one or two things up first.
*
Megan still couldn’t believe what was happening. Anesthetized by the events she had been forced to witness, she registered next to nothing and stumbled about, blindly, until drawn to the snap of charged potential playing back and forth between winged brows and the magnetic authority of the gaze peering out from beneath them. “Are you alright, Megan?”
It only then occurred to her that the gales had stopped shrieking. Gone were the rabid winds attempting to hurl them into the air, the lightning threatening to fry them where they stood, the irresistible call of the ghoulish siren trying to crush them out of existence. She could hear the Overlord’s softly spoken words quite clearly, yet was unable to reply.
Nodding instead, Megan deflated and slumped to the grass next to a badly burned Guardian. An acrid stench filled her lungs. How the hell am I still alive? One moment I was as good as dead. And the next…?
She looked the Overlord up and down, hardly daring to breathe, and lingered for a moment on the confirmation of his office – a thick, golden edged purple band on the end of each sleeve – And the next I’m sitting on the grass next to someone who, from what the media had been able to ascertain from the Guardians themselves, is a reclusive icon.
By her estimation, he appeared to be about forty years old. Perhaps older, or younger – it was so hard to tell. A shaved head, endlessly deep gray eyes, and slightly pointed ears gave him a mystique that would have been entirely at home in a fantasy novel, were it not for the bulk of his six foot frame. His body was so artfully muscled that Megan was sure he must bench-press small continents for fun in his spare time.
Despite this, the Overlord moved gracefully and flowed across the ground from person to person, ministering to their injuries with almost fluidic equanimity. And even though he had suppressed his visible aura, power radiated from every pore of his skin, every fiber of his being like a magnetar, causing Megan’s sinuses and teeth to throb.
He kept glancing Megan’s way as he checked the last of his colleagues. Once he was satisfied they had regained consciousness, he stood, removed his cowl and handed it to her. “Mind this for me, will you Megan? I have an urgent matter to attend to.”
Addressing Eduardo, he added, “And you might want to ensure you record this. I don’t often get to work with an audience.”
Stalking away from them, the Overlord strode confidently through a translucent barrier that sparkled and swirled like a bubble about to burst at his passage.
“So that’s why everything’s so calm? He must have erected it the moment he arrived.” Dumbfounded, Megan stared at the legend’s receding back. “How strong is he?”
“I think we’re going to get a spoiler alert any minute now,” Eduardo mumbled, rushing forward to the very edge of the protective screen to ensure he was in the best position to capture what was about to take place.
Eduardo’s words proved uncannily accurate, for the Overlord seemed immune to the evolving holocaust outside. Marching steadily on, he approached his first order of business.
Newborn, the black hole was busily devouring anything within its sphere of active influence. The tornado had already been consumed, along with the containment field put in place by the Guardians to restrain it. Soon, the rest of the nebulous convergence would follow. Soil and bedrock beneath the singularity fell away as if a sinkhole had opened its jaws, and thousands of tons of earth disappeared with every passing second.
A nearby copse shed trees like wheat beneath a scythe, and the atmosphere itself warped in an ever-increasing distortion that made it appear if reality was about to tear in two.
Half a mile above, four heavily shielded Guardian ships – much bigger than those seen previously – moved into formation. Megan didn’t know their purpose, but their presence filled her with a sense of foreboding.
Spotting them, the Overlord raised his head and issued a stunning mental and vocal command that caused Megan’s brain to jingle. “Hold your fire. Maintain current positions and await further orders!”
Hold – your – fire? Megan’s blood ran cold. They were going to…?
The Overlord lingered, ensuring compliance and then opened his arms wide to form a crucifix, palms upward. Threat of death forgotten – if only for a moment – Megan watched the air molecules hiss and ripple as the legend commenced drawing energy into himself at a stupendous rate.
Whatever he was doing acted as a lodestone for more of the terrible antimatter bursts. Twin forks of violet and yellow death thundered down into his cupped hands, branching again and again, over and over. At first, Megan was concerned for the Overlord’s safety. But the longer the process continued, the more she was sure this was what the Overlord had intended, for his outline glowed brighter and brighter with every strike.
He must be absorbing the vitality of the storm. But why?
The answer held her spellbound.
Stomping forward, the Overlord’s claw-handed gesture made it look as if he was attempting to twist stubborn lids free of a double-ended jar by brute force alone. A nacreous sphere of unknown potency appeared. Encompassing the empyrean oculus in midnight blue splendor, it sizzled and snapped coldly. Led by the Overlord’s movements, the orb started to shrink, its spasms intensifying in time to every turn of his hands.
Megan perceived a lessening in the void’s effects with each passing second. “Yes, it’s working, it’s actually...?”
Alas, she spoke too soon.
Upon making contact with the edge of the abomination, the ring halted, its rhythmic contractions thwarted by the monumental resistance offered by physics gone wrong and perverted gravity.
Edging forward, the living legend responded instantly. He inhaled and started squeezing his hands together, inch by torturous inch. His body began to shine and the play of muscles across his back and shoulders became more pronounced; a herculean effort resisted every step of the way by his stygian nemesis.
Undeterred, the Overlord continued to apply relentless pressure. The restrictive halo blazed, flickering through all the colors of the spectrum until it had flensed to white. Slowly, surely, the singularity faltered.
“But…but that can’t…that should be impossible,” Ben spluttered. “How is he managing to counter and merger with tidal shearing from within the gravity well?”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Megan realized the young scientist must have been as equally enthralled as she was by the spectacle, for he had come to stand beside her to watch.
“What the…? No” He grabbed her by the arm and visibly went pale. “My God, I think he’s going to manifest.”
Megan sensed the shock Ben’s words prompted among the other Guardians. Walking wounded they might be, yet they still managed to shuffle or hobble forward for a better look.
Intrigued by their reactions, she was prompted to ask, “He’s going to what?”
“He’s going to manifest. I’ve heard of such a capability among the most powerful of us, but never actually seen it take place. This will be amazing,” Ben replied.
“What do you mean?” Megan was completely baffled by the awe on Ben’s face. An expression echoed in the countenances of the older Guardians next to him.
Ben maintained a close watch on the unfolding drama, but inclined his head fractionally toward her. “You know how everybody is different when it comes to the scope of what they can do, mentally and physically?”
“Yes, yes I do.”
“You get to a certain point, and no amount of training, no degree of preparation can take you that extra mile? It’s as if there’s an undefined boundary you simply can’t cross?”
“I understand,” Megan replied, “but what’s that got to do with this?”
“Well, the same thing applies to the scale of metapsychic magnification any one person can handle. If their psi-well goes beyond an unspecified limit, their fleshly body will go nova.”
Megan peered at the Overlord, who was now radiating so brightly it was impossible to look at him without tearing up. “So are you saying he’s going to explode?”
“In his case, no. But some have. We’ve found the cut off mark appears to be at the High Grand Master level. Beyond that they go Ultra . . . if they’re lucky.”
“If they’re lucky?”
“Ultra is the threshold of extrasensory human existence. The doorway to something else.” Ben’s voice was now so quiet, Megan was unsure she had heard him correctly.
The lights surrounding the Overlord seemed to be folding back in on themselves, becoming a swirling mass of thrumming vibrant thaumaturgy, graced with bursts of sapphire and golden brilliance. Multicolored flares erupted across its surface as that potential swelled ever higher.
Ben shielded his eyes. “For many years, anyone who went Ultra died in the process. But lately, we’ve had more and more candidates with that special something that enables them to survive the switch. They transcend to another level of existence.”
“What level?” Megan gasped, now totally captivated.
“That level.” Ben pointed.
Megan looked and her jaw dropped along with the microphone. The man was gone, and in his place stood a vision of power incarnate, both terrible and wonderful to behold.
She hardly heard Ben continue. “Those who transcend become beings of pure thought and energy. He is the oldest and strongest of us, the first to attain such a standing. And from what I’m told, it’s been over a century since he last adopted his natural form.”
“Natural form? Are you saying he’s not human?”
“Oh, he’s human…well, as human as anyone like that can retain a degree of compassion or benevolence. But they must think in an entirely different way as they’re not constrained by corporeal limitations anymore.”
“Corporeal, are you kidding! He looks more like one of the seraphim described in the bible than anything else. No wonder we call you Guardian Angels, especially if some of you can do this.”
Ben was too mesmerized to reply.
Stooping to retrieve her microphone, Megan caught Eduardo’s attention. “Please tell me you’ve been recording all this? We’ll be freaking legends ourselves is you have.
“Oh, yes,” Eduardo growled, his grin wide enough to put the Cheshire Cat to shame.
Megan’s smirk grew to match that of her cameraman’s. Pulitzer here we come.
*
The angel pulsed within an electrum of autumnal hues engraved in fire, a conflagration threaded in a tracery of silver and white exuberance. At more than fifteen feet in height, it retained a roughly humanoid shape, though it seemed reluctant to conform to any one matrix. Cords of power punctuated its oscillating form, flaring and fading so frequently, it gave the distinct impression the Overlord now existed on more than one plane of reality.
Opposite him, the singularity had been compressed down to the size of a baseball. Its punitive dimensions did little to quell its fury. Virulent plum and lemon colored discharges continued to spit from the event horizon in a diatribe of antimatter expletives, the only time in history that name-calling would – de facto – be capable of wreaking havoc. As such, the supreme Guardian swiftly moved to answer with his own counterargument.
Floating across the intervening gap, the heaven-clad Overlord positioned himself directly before the abyss. He flared, and a storm of photonic tentacles erupted from his body like a mass coronal ejection from the Sun. Snaking forward, each feeler commenced an erratic dance around the periphery of the black hole.
At first, things were frenzied and unbalanced as the dark fought against the governance of the light. But presently, discord gave way to grudging harmony, and the graceful form of a waltz began to emerge, a möbius strip of eternal union flowing about a common center.
The tempo accelerated. Bolt after bolt hammered out of the aphotic monstrosity with increasing ferocity. To no avail, for the orbit between the two mutually antagonistic forces lessened as the angelic avatar outshone everything thrown at it. Before long, it became evident to everyone that the atrocity was losing ground.
Ben gasped. “He’s going to subsume it! I don’t believe it; he’s actually going to subsume a singularity into himself. My God…that would take limitless…he would need…?”
“He’s going to do what?” Megan asked, conscious of the fact she’d said that an awful lot today and cursed herself for it.
“He’s going to draw the black hole toward himself and then he’s going to try and absorb it,” said one of the injured Guardians standing nearest to her. The shredded bronze bands on the remains of his sleeve revealed him to be a Master Class psychic.
Megan gawked at the man, surprised by the straightforward answer.
“Quite refreshing, isn’t it, when you don’t have – I’m a scientist so I have to use big words – ruining the exchange?” he joked. “And more understandable…?”
A shrieking wail, like armored nails on glass, etched its way above the hullabaloo taking place on the other side of the shield, cutting any further attempt at humor dead.
The Master Guardian gestured back outside. “But I digress. It would seem the climax is fast approaching?”
Megan looked forward and raised her hand. Squinting through her fingers, she caught sight of a dissonant jarring nub of nihility little more than a speck of dust in size, cowering before a titan.
Clamorous in an inaudible way, the waning singularity still had a sting in its tail, and Megan was alarmed to feel her eyes watering and her ears pop. Her nose began to run and her breath felt constricted within her chest.
When is this ever going to en –?
Then it was gone, sucked into the Overlord’s complexus as if it had never existed.
Relief flooded Megan’s nervous system. Throwing back her head, she gulped in air, relishing the simple joy of life. Overhead, pink and gray clouds paused in their journey, free of the influence that had so easily bent them to its will. Down below, decapitated wheat stalks bobbed their necks, as if peeping to see if the way was clear.
Around her, Megan found the Guardians staring at each other, no doubt deep in mental conversation.
“Hey, no fair!” shouted Eduardo. Making eye contact with each one, he then nodded to his camera.
“Oh, sorry. You didn’t really miss much,” Ben assured him. “We were just agreeing how unprecedented that was. Even with all the tech and innovative designs we have at our disposal, none of us has ever seen such a pivotal moment before.”
Both Megan and Eduardo frowned. The burnt Guardian Master rushed to clarify. “What my eloquent friend means is, we’ve had the technology for some time now to protect ourselves against the dominion a black hole exerts. We shield our ships and bases with special null-gravity locks to prevent ourselves from being pulled in. Being that close to one of the most unpredictable paradoxes of nature has allowed us to build a healthy respect of the forces and energies involved in their creative evolution. So to essentially see a singularity being swallowed by something generated by the mind, well…that’s impressive…and supposedly impossible.”
“That’s what I just said!” Ben complained.
Shaking his head and punching the younger man gently on his shoulder – and wincing for his efforts – the Master replied, “When we get back, I’m going to break into your lab and steal your scientists’ dictionary. You know, it’s the one with all the big words in that you obviously go to great lengths to memorize.”
He winked at Megan and Eduardo. “I swear there’s no word in it less than twelve letters long, and that’s not including the vowels.”
They all laughed at the gentle jest, the moment of shared relief doing much to ease the tension. Then everyone fell quiet as they realized something was happening at the crater site.
The blinding silver nimbus had reduced, both in size and intensity. Contracting waves flowed inward, condensing into a man-sized shape that floated like a wraith toward the lip of the cavernous bowl.
As his outline grew more defined, the Overlord continued to skim the surface of the grama until he reached the boundary of his protective barrier. It fell at his touch, peeling away as if eager to follow his descent back onto solid ground.
Stepping calmly down, he said, “May I have my cloak, Megan? I’m going to need it shortly.”
Damn! She nodded and reluctantly handed back the keepsake she was hoping he’d forgotten about.
Noting her lack of enthusiasm, the Overlord first made his way across to the charred vestiges of those Guardians who had fallen to the mutated lightning stroke. Standing silently by their remains, he kept his emotions to himself and pondered privately for a while.
In due course, he stiffened and made a pass in the air. The ruined bodies crumbled, dissipating in the breeze until all that was left were darkened stains among the grass.
Finally, he strode over to the hole containing the sickly residue that was once Grand Master Yasin, still safely preserved within the gyroscopic medley of the Temporal Well. He studied his construct for a moment as if attuning to it, and gestured with one hand, leaving blazing glyphs in his fingers’ wake. The rotating rings expanded to encompass him, whereupon he disappeared from view.
Whoa? Megan turned to the Guardians and waited for clarification.
“That’s just the effects of the Temporal Well,” Ben explained. “They’re both still there, but we can’t see them as they are out of phase with the flow of our linear existence. Remember, the Grand Master was so badly injured that, had the Overlord left her as she was, she would have died…no doubt about it. Suspending her in the space between now and then gives him all the time he needs to devise a treatment regimen that will give her the best chance of recovery.” He shrugged, “the boss could be in there for years, but to us, a mere instant will pass.”
Megan snorted and shook her head, prompting the Guardian Master to offer his services again as translator. She smiled wanly and waved him off. “No need, thank you. I’m just shocked because I actually understood what Ben said.”
Then, remembering why she was there, Megan abruptly became more serious. “Do you guys think she has a chance?”
“I really can’t say,” Ben admitted. “There was hardly anything left, as you saw. And while I’ve only heard rumors of the Overlord’s true capacity, I don’t know if there was enough DNA for him to work with. I guess we’ll find out one way or the other, soon.
They did.
Everyone took a step backward as a silent concussion and brief flash of light caught them all by surprise. The dual green and vermillion bands flared out of existence to reveal two people stood side by side: the Overlord and a barefoot woman, clothed in his hooded cowl to cover her nakedness.
A sharp intake of breath from the Guardians signaled this was, without question, Grand Master Yasin; tired and a little pale, certainly, but healthy and whole nonetheless.
And from what Megan could see, the commander didn’t have a mark on her. Holy shit! Is this really happening?
Megan wasn’t the only one to be blown away.
It was obvious Grand Master Yasin couldn’t comprehend what had happened to her, for she kept staring as her hands and feet, arms and legs, and prodding herself over and over, as if she expected to unravel at any second.
As one, the Guardians and news team crowded forward to greet her, only to be met by a gentle but firm barrier. “I think Anatt has had quite enough excitement for one day, don’t you?” the Overlord warned.
Giving the regenerated commander a gentle hug, he said to her, “One minute you’re getting obliterated, and the next thing you know, you wake up from one of those dreams where you’re the only one naked, only to find it’s all true and the boss is getting an eyeful! People have nightmares about that, you know.”
Anatt smiled, obviously well enough to appreciate the playful dig. Then she seemed to register the implications of his statement. She blushed, pulled the cape a little tighter around her frame, and turned to face him. Tears threatened to spill as she croaked, “Thank you, Sir. I don’t…I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay your –?”
The Overlord touched a finger to her lips, “Anatt, there’s no need to thank me. After all, you and your team demonstrated the highest example of service that anyone could expect from a Guardian: you willingly sacrificed yourselves so that others might live. Oh, and there’s no need to be so formal around me, either. You get to call me Adam . . . For today, anyway.”
“Thank you . . . Adam,” she whispered.
Squeezing her gently on the shoulder, he replied, “The Lord Healer herself will be looking after you for the next couple of months as we gradually ramp your abilities back up to full strength. Sorry for the extended timeframe, but I’ve added a little something to your complexus that should help avoid having to do this all over again. So, take it easy and give your regenerated tissue time to settle and mesh with your psyche. You’ll see what I mean in the coming weeks…Then you can express your gratitude with a really expensive gift.”
He grinned, gave her a final hug and glanced up toward the closest ship.
A shaft of glittering luminescence washed over the entire group before narrowing to focus solely on the Grand Master herself.
The Overlord concluded. “Give Corrine my regards, and ask Captain Hunter to send my cloak back down once you’ve finished with it, okay?”
Before she could reply, she had been snatched away to safety.
He lingered where he was, staring into a rapidly widening blue vault. Thinking aloud, he muttered, “Brave girl. It took guts to do what she did. She’ll make a fine candid…”
Catching himself, the Overlord began turning slowly on the spot. By the way he held his head, Megan had the feeling he was scouring the vicinity for as far as the eye could see, no doubt in an effort to assess the full extent of the damage. Eventually, his scrutiny fell on the results of the black hole’s gluttony: a perfect inverted dome-shaped depression, nearly a mile across, bitten from the earth in one fell swoop.
He remained still, ruminating for some time, until a vivid cone of light shone down from above. When his cloak appeared, draped across one shoulder, it seemed to break his trance. Spinning about, the Overlord strode across to stand in front of Megan and Eduardo. “I’ve just finished speaking with the overseer of the American Sector and the Lord Conciliator. We will shortly be appointing a representative to liaise with your President and State Governors. That emissary will suggest options for the revitalization of this area, and discuss the impact of other…events from around the world that seem to have been timed to coincide with our activities here.
“We came close to a catastrophe today. Too close, and if anything, this is a healthy reminder to you all that while we, the Guardians, are here to serve and protect, we are neither omnipotent nor omniscient. And as you saw, we are certainly not infallible.
“You need to learn to look after yourselves. I would strongly suggest you heed the advice of the Lord Conciliator in initiating our accelerated educational programs within your society across the board. This will spare us from having to spread our limited resources too thinly, and allow us to focus on other issues.”
The Overlord began to step away from the camera, only to remember something at the last moment. Turning back, he gestured to the huge crater. “If I may be so bold, perhaps this area might benefit from a suitable memorial. It will certainly remind everyone of what today cost us, and what we all need to learn from it.”
Stepping closer to Megan, he offered his cowl. “I believe you wanted a memento?”
Freezing with embarrassment, Megan found she couldn’t reply again.
Playing to her sudden shyness, the Overlord teased, “I have more than enough of these, I assure you. After all, I do own the company.”
When she still didn’t reply, he draped the cloak over the crook of her arm, and said, “I tell you what, just look after it for me and if I ever find myself short, I’ll know who to come to. Okay?”
And with that, he stepped back, waved, and vanished.
Before Megan could recover, a shadow loomed overhead. Peering up, she saw one of the larger Guardian vessels had descended to take up a position above the epicenter of Texas’ brand new tourist attraction. A smokeless flare dropped from a hatch in its underbelly. When it reached a point about two hundred feet above ground level, it exploded like a firework, filling the air in a chrysanthemum burst of lurid green embers that froze in place, forming a luminous cap across the expanse of the pit.
Wow! Megan was impressed. The sooner we can learn to do things like that for ourselves, the better. I do hope our leaders are wise enough to listen to what the Guardians have to offer.
The Master Guardian who had spoken to her earlier moved to attract her attention. “Hi, we’re about to hitch a ride with the Argent. None of us are teleporters, you see, and the damned hybrid strike shorted out our transporter rings. I noticed your van was swallowed by the singularity earlier on, so I was going to ask, do you need a lift? I’m sure the captain won’t mind.”
“Thanks,” Megan replied gratefully. “It’s a long walk back to Oklahoma City.” She glanced over toward the crater and surrounding devastation and fought to suppress an unexpected shiver.
“What’s wrong?” Ben asked, noticing her discomfort.
She shook her head. “I was just thinking how easily that could have been us, gone, gobbled down whole. If the Overlord hadn’t turned up when he did, I seriously doubt we’d be here talking about it now.”
“True,” Ben replied, “we probably wouldn’t. But if you’re feeling morbid, I could tell you something that will totally freak you out.”
Megan liked a challenged. “Oh yeah, what?”
Ben sidled closer. “Well, by subsuming the danger in the way he did, you could say the Overlord swallowed the black hole, along with everything it consumed, yes?”
“Yeees.”
“So technically, he’s now walking around with a whole load of the One Star State and your van inside him. Freaky enough for you?”
Stunned by the logic of his argument, Megan couldn’t help but giggle. “I didn’t think of it like that.”
“It might be a damned good way to end your report, though,” Eduardo suggested, seriously.
She had to agree; both men had valid points.