The heat of the day proved stifling, ensuring the small party of nominated ambassadors struggled as they made their slow and arduous way up through the Fields of Light, along the Hallowed Approach and into the Orchid Gardens. Weighed down by their official regalia and sweating profusely, their discomfort blinded them to the splendor and heady bouquet of over seventeen species of flowers, eight variety of fruit trees, and plethora of gloriously colored birds and wildlife found nowhere else on Earth besides here on Kalliste, home of the Gods—or Protectors—as the Zus Adhem-un preferred them to be addressed.
That delegation, representing the heads of all the main guilds and magisterial satraps from Minoa, Mycelia, Helenian, Atlantis, and Athena grew ever more anxious as they drew nearer to their destination.
Slowing, they passed the rippling threshold to the Prismic Bow. Aptly named for its nine geothermally powered shooting fountains arranged in consecutive sequence, the gate’s musically iridescent rainbows formed a shimmering parade of liquescent archways leading to the Atrium of Solace.
Loitering beneath the tranquil shade of the Grand Colonnade, they breathed a collective sigh of relief, being spared at last from the power of the midday sun. There, they steeled themselves for the ordeal ahead, for the confrontation shortly to take place was as unavoidable as it was necessary.
As’talon, the appointed spokesman for the group, looked to the others for last minute encouragement before leading them briskly into the Audience Hall of the Twelve, formally referred to as the High Pantheon of the Olympiad. All the same, the imposing angelic reliefs carved into the pillars on either side of the entrance soon gave everyone pause for thought, for they encapsulated the majesty of the beings they were about to address perfectly.
A vicious tremor shook the earth, breaking their composure and causing them to stumble.
The quake was the latest in a number of disturbing events to strike since Psi-edon and his cabal—comprising Hades, Ares, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and Hestia—had begun their arcane manipulations of the seas and lands around the Protectorate in an insidious and ongoing attempt to expand their influence. On this occasion, they’d seized the opportunity to interfere while the Zus Adhem-un and those loyal to him were away on the fabled Star Odyssey, and huge wedges of coastline were being raised up or pulled down into the emerald embrace of the sea without warning, regardless of how many mortals perished. Needless to say, fear had spread rapidly throughout the realm.
Shielded as the envoys were by the formidable barriers protecting Kalliste, they nevertheless felt the increasing power of such machinations and were unsure of their continued safety.
The Zus Adhem-un himself was still absent. Thankfully, those Gods loyal to him had returned earlier that morning, prompting this hasty assembling of the council and their arrival via the Monolith Gate only an hour ago.
As’talon and his associates entered the Audience Hall and halted again, overwhelmed this time by the nine beings seated within, radiating both antiquity and authority. Arrayed around the outside of the domed chamber on a horseshoe shaped upper gallery, each deity occupied a throne of gold facing in toward the center of the High Pantheon, granting them a clear and unobstructed view of those subjects seeking counsel.
All except for one, that is. As guardian of the Sacred Flame, Hestia, stood proudly at her station positioned at the head of the bow behind the largest of the thrones, vacant while the Zus Adhem-un was absent.
The Flame, a source of interspatial psitronic vitality, was used to augment the island’s defenses as well as manipulate matter at the subatomic level. Powered by a rare and unusual crystal discovered by the Zus Adhem-un on one of his star quests, it existed in four dimensions at the same time due to its uniquely latticed vibratory parameters which naturally seemed to absorb almost all known forms of energy at the quark level. If those lattices were then excited in the correct manner, the gem was able to generate anti-quarks and thus, incredible dominion.
That stimulus was usually maintained via the subconscious extrasensory interaction of the Gods as they went about their daily business, thereby providing a well of untapped mundane and psychic latency that was then harnessed and stored in a buffer.
Situated as the island was at the convergence of several tectonic plates and an active volcano, much of that potential was directed toward anchoring the shifting landmasses in place. A positive side effect of such chicanery was the fact that thermal variance made the locale suitable for a wider than usual range of flora and fauna. It also provided power to the Monolith Gates employed throughout the Protectorate as a means of almost instantaneous travel between all major cities and the capital, Kalliste. Any untapped energy remaining was left within the buffer and used by the Gods to supplement their own incredible powers when completing major projects or undertaking more complex modifications of the atmosphere or weather.
Hestia’s blazing regard swept over those gathered below. Her animosity was palpable and it didn’t need a mind reader to discern what she thought of those who presumed to question their betters’ judgment.
Apollo, noting the tension, stood and spoke calmly but with authority. “Hestia, please, you will daunt our guests.”
His twin sister, Artemis, echoed the sentiment. “Yes, Hestia, perhaps we should all make an effort to extend a greeting to our emissaries.”
As Artemis spoke she issued a psychic prompt, reminding all present of her authority as the Nike. In turn, most of her fellow immortals suppressed their auras. Clearly unhappy to capitulate, Hestia and Ares took considerably longer to do so than the others, while Dionysus—as abrasive as ever—continued to threaten the humans with a bout of surreptitious posturing.
In response, Apollo bathed the delegation in healing light, filtering out the ominous undercurrent entirely and creating a better mood for mutual rapport.
“Dear friends, elected representatives of your people.” Apollo raised his hand and gestured. “Please, come forward and speak your concerns. Be reassured, we wish to clarify the reason for your visit here today . . . though I feel the answer might be only too obvious?”
Glancing briefly but pointedly at Hades, Dionysus, Ares, and Hestia, he added, “Despite the incivility shown by some, never doubt you are welcome and are always free to express your misgivings to those who live to serve and protect you.”
He ignored the mental sneers issuing from his uncle’s lackeys, and brightened his sun bright corona again as a sign of support. Smiling warmly, he sat back down and waited for As’talon to begin.
Braving the malice still radiating from four of those present, As’talon cleared his throat, stepped up onto the Representatives Dais, and made a point of fixing his attention on Apollo, Artemis, Hera, Hermes, and Athena. “Lord Apollo, as spokesman for the Guilds and Magisters of the Protectorate and indeed for the people themselves, I have been asked to declare our horror regarding the wanton destruction unleashed by some of those who are supposed to shield and guide us. As this is such a serious matter, I must confess I’m disappointed that I am not able to address the full House?”
Sending a telepathic inquiry to her son, Apollo, Hera interjected, “May I offer my husband’s sincerest apologies, As’talon, to you and indeed to your esteemed colleagues. You are aware of course that Adhem-un is still otherwise engaged, traversing the ocean of the cosmos. Because of the immeasurable distances involved, he was unable to make it back in time and sent us on ahead in his stead. Believe me when I say, he regrets not being here. . .”
Staring directly at Hades, Ares, Dionysus, and then Hestia, she held their gazes for a moment before lowering her voice, “Sadly, I cannot say the same of Psi-edon or Hephaestus, as for some reason, they have seen fit to decline your invitation?”
When none among the duplicitous quartet chose to reply, Hera continued, “However, we who are present shall do our utmost to redress the grievances you air. My son Apollo has been granted right of proxy in his father’s absence. And as you know, Artemis—in her role as the Nike and First Attendant—will ensure Adhem-un is fully informed of the events transpiring here within minutes.”
As’talon lingered, studying the silent veils of dust dislodged from various corners of the room as another, stronger convulsion shook the island to its core. A deep growl could be heard, groaning throughout the building as supports strained in protest under the stresses brought to bear. Forced to dance nimbly to steady himself, As’talon didn’t miss the puzzled expressions Apollo and Artemis shot toward the other Gods and then toward Hestia in particular, who was responsible for maintaining the supposedly impregnable arcane barricade surrounding the island.
He murmured, “I thank you, Earth Mother, but the exploitation of our lands instigated under the direction of the Lords Psi-edon and Hephaestus have wreaked havoc on our cities and crops. Trade and commerce is severely disrupted. This past week alone has seen the destruction of four major metropolises and six townships, causing an unacceptable loss of life and the displacement of over eight hundred thousand citizens. And now, I see evidence those same machinations are also affecting the sacred home of our sovereign protectors. This begs the simple question, why?”
In a visible demonstration of empathy, Apollo bestowed a withering frown upon Psi-edon’s clique. “Why indeed? We discerned your just cause for complaint upon our return this very morning. Not one month has passed since some of our number departed, leaving you in the care of those who should know better. Yet what do we find? Neglect, disruption, growing anarchy and terror! Those we are sworn to defend, to guide and nurture, fearing our actions, suffering harm and premature death on an unprecedented scale!”
Even though his comments were not aimed at them, the humans below flinched as Apollo’s feelings became manifest, intensifying his visible nimbus.
Leaning toward Hades, Apollo demanded, “Lord Hades, Uncle. As one of the most senior members of the first generation left on Kalliste, why have you allowed such travesty to unfold without notifying father? And why is it the rest of your group are not here to answer for their neglect?
Hades glared at the gathered counselors before sneering. “I do not speak for Psi-edon or Hephaestus, Apollo, nor do I account for my behavior in front of petty mortals. If it is your will that the Makers must now bend to the wishes of those beneath us, then of course, I shall go and summon my brethren at once.”
He rose, leaking feelings of apprehension and strangely, a building wellhead of excitement, which all present could discern. Apollo signaled Artemis subliminally and lifted a single finger, exerting the most subtle telekinetic influence as he did so. “No, I think it might be best if you stayed with us.”
A further lightning fast mental exchange took place between brother and sister, which then expanded to include Athena.
Abruptly, Artemis spun to face Ares and suggested, “Perhaps you would be so kind as to fetch my illustrious older uncle and Hephaestus? I’m sure they will be only too keen to clarify the situation publicly?”
The warrior god peered steadily into the magnetic gray eyes of the twins, measuring them with the precision of an electron microscope. His scrutiny was matched by an unspoken guarantee of unflinching loyalty to the tenets of their patriarch’s cause. Two sets of irises started glowing softly in warning, revealing a minuscule hint of their sovereignty. By this mannerism especially, did they reveal themselves as their father’s children.
Sending a heavily encrypted message to Hades, Dionysus, and Hestia, Ares nodded once, “As you wish,” then disappeared, teleporting to wherever it was that Psi-edon had buried himself away.
Apollo broke the silence that followed. “As’talon, both you and your compatriots are welcome to enjoy the refreshments that will shortly be provided in the annex. On my oath, this matter will be resolved today and reparations will be forth . . . ?”
“Hestia, what are you doing?” Always alert and cunning, Hermes had leaned forward in his seat, a look of puzzlement etched across his features. “And why is the numen of this blessed sanctuary corrupted?”
In answer to Hermes query, all heads turned to the Keeper of the Sacred Flame as she openly completed a series of subtle manipulations begun in secret more than a month previously. It was only at that moment, with all minds focused on the generator, that the results of her ingeniously executed artifice became apparent.
At Psi-edon’s behest, Hestia had adjusted the crystal’s functioning, allowing her to siphon off the energy accrued over time so that shield integrity and transporter capabilities were gradually diminished. Her goal: a harvesting of psitronic potential to be used as she saw fit against those loyal to the Zus Adhem-un.
She initiated the psinergic overload, whereby a massive buildup and subsequent explosive release of interdimensional quintessence would take place, rendering those who were unprepared helpless and unable to manifest their higher state. The island would also be stripped of its defenses, placing everyone at the mercy of the breakaway faction.
The control gem glowed red and a shrill buzz impinged on everyone’s sensibilities. With a shout of triumph, Hestia released the cascade. A blooming shockwave of immense power rippled away, bowling over her opponents and killing all but two of the interfering mortals outright.
Grinning, she issued a brief but intricate set of instructions for her confederates to follow and teleported to their side, intent on assisting their onward journey to the prearranged rendezvous.
Unfortunately for her that was a grave error.
While most of her enemies now lay unconscious, Hestia had neglected to factor in the inimitable heritage of the twins. Though the force of the initial pulse had knocked them from their feet, Apollo and Artemis had been forewarned by Hermes’ query. In turn, that alerted them to the nature of Ares’ heavily encoded message. Perceiving an imminent threat, they had reacted with preternatural speed and managed to partially raise their personal screens. Still awake, they had listened to Hestia’s last communiqué and were only too keen to answer.
Artemis extended both hands, unleashing dual shafts of ferocious potency, supercharged by emotion. The first eviscerated Hades as he entered his teleportation nexus. Writhing in abject misery, he held out for a full three seconds before being effaced in a nova of argent purity. The second hurtled toward the traitor Hestia, only just missing her as she dematerialized.
Continuing on through the space left vacant by Hestia’s departure, the plasma charge struck the next object in its path: the depleted Flame Generator. An eruption of frigid intensity announced the destruction of the weakened crystal, forcing Artemis to crouch down momentarily and cover her head to avoid incineration in the amplified backlash.
Apollo had also acted swiftly, erecting a class one forbidding over those who had been stupefied. In doing so, he missed the opportunity to destroy Dionysus before he made good his escape.
As he strove to revive his fellow immortals and the only two humans to survive—which thankfully included their longtime friend, As’talon—a sizzling sensation swelled in the ether about him. Apollo ducked and then flinched as his defenses were struck a ringing blow from a hastily thrown psitronic thunderbolt, flung by Ares who had snuck back in an obvious attempt to end things as quickly as possible.
Athena—not blessed with the precognitive power of the twins, but nevertheless a superb strategist—had already responded with a warrior’s reflexes. Determined to follow Hestia by piggy-backing along her hyperspatial pathway, she allowed her molecules to dissipate. Unfortunately for Athena, so intent was she on discovering the location of the rebel base, that she didn’t realize her maneuver had left her temporarily vulnerable to the esoteric flashover engendered by the destruction of the flame generator. The ensuing countercurrents wrenched Athena out of the spatial matrix in mid-jump, slamming her to the floor.
Meanwhile, Apollo had his hands full juggling numerous obstacles at once. The stupendous strain of absorbing the abstruse might of the attack in such a way that the only two mortals left alive were spared from further harm, had driven Apollo to his knees. His struggle was compounded by the unexpected weight of thousands of tons of falling granite as the hewn blocks of the Olympiad started to crumble around him. He reached out with his perceptions and found his sister standing tall amid a deluge of bricks, mortar and choking dirt: They’re flitting about to confuse us. Hail Adhem-un now, we need his strength!
Artemis, knowing full well the gravity of the situation, wreathed herself in astral flame and summoned her superlative farseeing faculty. Relying on her astounding capacity as the Nike, she was confident she would possess the mental muscle and discipline required to home in on the exact coordinates of her father—wherever he may be—so that he could be apprised of the awful events that had just occurred.
No sooner had she commenced her scan than the environs were slammed by another world-shaking blast that caused the air to warp in complaint, and which all but breached Apollo’s protective shield.
Providentially, all of the falling masonry and even the dust particles were instantly vaporized. But that was as far as their luck extended. So fierce were the variant stresses brought to bear, that a full-blown major earthquake was spawned.
Kalliste was rocked to its foundations.
Apollo called to Artemis on their intimate mode: They’re working in harmonic union, and are enhanced by psitronic energy! Be quick, I can’t keep this up without manifesting.
Artemis blazed victorious, a pristine solitary statue shining bright amid the occluding chaos: I’ve found him! He’s right at the edge of my range. Transmitting data now.
The ground beneath them vanished as another fulgid discharge struck home, gouging a hole over four hundred yards deep through eleven layers of the island’s substrata. As tornadic winds streamed into the ensuing vacuum, every standing structure within a one-mile radius imploded.
Powerful though the twins were in their fleshly guise, the speed of the conflux reduced them to nothing more significant than tiny midges caught in a gale.
Their mother, Hera, was killed in that same blast, her consciousness shrieking poignantly for her husband during the fraction of a second it took for her light to be extinguished. Hermes also died, though less dramatically, remaining blissfully unaware of his demise as he was torn apart from the inside out.
Athena had retained the presence of mind to spin a force field around herself and the person next to her, As’talon. Sadly, she was unable to react in time to save the other human, Nikolas—a Magister from Minoa, who had only recently become a father.
Incensed by the brutality she had been forced to witness, Athena phase-shifted to ward off the effects of the ambush and then threw herself through the superficies in pursuit of Hestia, but not before sending a brief update of her intentions to Apollo.
In a daring move, Dionysus and Ares teleported back into the thick of things. Having assumed divine incarnations, they appeared as avenging angels hovering high in the sky; lambent stars whose scorching presence heralded a clear objective to eradicate anyone daring to face them . . . At least, that was the impression they gave. Alas for them, they never got the chance to express their goal more fully.
Countering instinctively, Apollo and Artemis meshed in harmonic union, multiplying the sum of their capabilities whilst simultaneously erecting a refractive web in the air before them, a fabrication designed not to stop but merely deflect any attack.
Together, they began sucking in energy at a truly astonishing rate. So shocked were Dionysus and Ares at the staggering potency of the twins’ hitherto unmeasured capabilities that their assault faltered.
They were further stalled by an extreme range, hyperspace translation probe of incalculable strength and precision. Sizzling into being, it anchored instantly and expanded into an impregnable shield bubble even before the unknown traveler had signaled the commencement of their jump.
Only one entity they knew of was capable of such a feat.
The bubble began emitting a target locator program. Ignoring everyone else, it latched onto the psychomimetic auras of Dionysus and Ares, prompting them to send out a panicked call for help.
Shielded or no, Dionysus was no match for Apollo or Artemis. Capitalizing on the distraction, they pounced, and a heartbeat later he was crushed by duplex anvils of fearful mastery that struck his complexus from both sides at once, atomizing him entirely.
An extension of the twins’ will, those cords snapped and crackled as they sought out fresh prey. Finding none, they coiled back in on themselves, subsuming the dead God’s essence and providing the twins with the boost they needed to overcome the debilitating effects of the psitronic booby-trap. As one, they triggered the metamorphosis into their true selves.
In that same instant, an expanding auroral prism of blinding intensity announced the arrival of a living storm made manifest.
Blazing with anger, the Zus Adhem-un thundered onto the battlefield in all his awesome glory; compelling, radiant, terrifying. Not only was his mind a maelstrom offering nothing but certain death, but such was the focus of his ardor that the earth’s crust started to liquefy. Still in mundane form, he was nevertheless wreathed in his Aegis, an astral nimbus of such soul numbing potency that he could not be looked upon directly.
By now, Ares had managed to teleport fully away. Nevertheless, his haste meant that he had neglected to take the full measure of who it was that hunted him. Making no attempt to cover his tracks, he jumped straight to the location chosen by his allies at which to muster their forces; an armored vault, deep beneath the island. Realizing they had been discovered, they then made the further mistake of acting far too rashly, channeling most of the remaining arsenal at their disposal into an all-or-nothing strike.
A blistering spherule, composed of psitronic and psychic energy with a diameter measuring in excess of fifty yards, hammered down onto the Zus Adhem-un and the twins. So intense was the flash emitted by the resultant detonation, that anything looking toward Kalliste at that moment—man or beast—was struck blind.
Twenty-three long seconds passed in which all hostilities ceased and every single immortal—loyalist and separatist—gazed in anticipation at the slowly dimming ball of plasma, throbbing like a dying pulsar against a blood-red sky.
Some hopes faltered when the false sunrise waned sufficiently to reveal the former jewel of the known enlightened world had been reduced to a glassed and smoking wasteland. A few were crushed entirely when the Zus Adhem-un stood forth unharmed. Hovering between the twins above the crater that had once been their home, he surveyed the carnage below him and his countenance turned black.
Alerting Apollo and Artemis to his designs, Zus Adhem-un started drawing in power at such an alarming rate that it made the twins’ earlier efforts seem nonexistent by comparison. The speed of his inhalation grew more pronounced, and kept on increasing until cyclonic wind shears screamed toward him from all points of the compass.
A bastion of stolidity, the Father of the Gods frowned and sizzling sigma beams leaped from his eyes. Punching down through the intervening sedimentary layers, they locked onto the secret complex from which Psi-edon and Hephaestus had launched their diabolical schemes, and where they now cowered, trapped in their transcended forms.
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Athena arrived inside that same facility in time to witness the onset of the Zus Adhem-un’s scorn. As the fragile weave of the subduction zone threaded throughout the region had been weakened and the island now lacked the protection of the Flame, it was plain to her the Zus Adhem-un was showing restraint by concentrating his efforts solely on the area around the insurgents’ refuge.
Regardless, his restraint was by no means a sign of weakness.
A mighty roar reverberated through the heavens, clarifying that point: STAND AWAY FROM THE CONTROLS OR DIE! COMPLY WITH MY INSTRUCTIONS NOW OR I WILL END YOU . . . PERMANENTLY!
Shaking her head at the trapped rebels, Athena advised, “Give it up, you idiots. Even combined, you know that none of you has a chance against him.”
A hurried exchange took place between Psi-edon and the rest of his coterie. In response, Hephaestus began floating toward the main control console, his mind a leaking colander of desperation and rising anxiety.
Athena was appalled, genuinely fearful for the one ancient who had treated her like his own grandchild in the centuries it had taken her to mature. In desperation she shouted, “For pity’s sake, show some sense! He’s livid enough as it is. Don’t force him to kill you.”
Hephaestus glanced at Psi-edon and then back to Athena. A peculiar look of resigned helplessness cast a shadow of sadness across his beautiful, shining face. He met her gaze for a final time, then mentally triggered the self-destruct program.
Athena’s anguish was heartfelt: Nooo!
The burst of pre-stored psitronic energy cut down through the shattered geology beneath the island in less time than it took to blink, detonating three cloaked antimatter mines placed in close proximity to the junction of the crust with the upper mantle.
The shockwave triggered an immediate “oblique slip” tectonic shift, allowing the pressure that had been held in stasis for millennia within the vast magma chamber to begin percolating toward the surface. A sense of agitation seemed to grip the currents surrounding the coastal region. Then the Atlas Sea flexed, generating a huge vertical deformation of its mass. As it relaxed, millions of cubic tons of displaced water radiated outward, away from the island, carrying with it the promise of certain calamity.
Now there wasn’t a thing anyone could do to avert a catastrophe. But that didn’t prevent the Father Protector from trying.
He started with the dross.
The radical element may have chosen to hide themselves away more than two miles underground, but that meant nothing to an incensed Zus Adhem-un. The sigma beams intensified. Cutting through shielding and armor as if they were nothing more robust than wet paper, he fried Hephaestus where he groveled. Such was the ferocity of the attack that everyone gravitated toward the vacuity created by the doomed God as he was extirpated.
Nails bared, her visage a mask of hatred and grief, Athena flew across the chamber at Psi-edon. A wasted exercise, for he was already halfway inside a carefully prepared hyperspatial escape pod.
Glancing back, he hissed: Fool! Your people will suffer for this.
He disappeared so fast Athena didn’t have time to track his trajectory. Not that there was any real need to do so.
My people! She thought.
Rubescent searchlights roved the interior of the vault. Alighting on Ares and Hestia simultaneously, the rays oscillated, delivering a kinetic wallop sufficient to send both Gods crashing to the deck. As they fell unconscious, their auras darkened and they reverted back into their human avatars.
Athena expressed no joy over this brief success: Adhem-un, there are over a quarter million souls living under my care!
Go to them, he replied: Apollo will follow shortly while Artemis assists me here. I have to try and stabilize the island before we do anything else.
Teleporting to her patron holding, she discovered Psi-edon lurking about ten thousand yards out at sea. His potential swelled as he summoned the energy needed to level the entire city. Sending a brief update to Apollo, Athena prepared to intercept the death stroke before it achieved primary resolution. Only then might she be in a position to deflect the blast without ravaging her more vulnerable human disposition.
An unwilling spectator to the callous treachery of his uncle, Apollo arrived just as Psi-edon unleashed an amphitheater sized gobbet from hell. Projected toward the busy metropolis as more than twice the speed of sound, it engendered a mammoth sonic boom which reverberated off for over three hundred miles in every direction before fading.
Athena must have realized she didn’t have time to create an effective barrier, for she put herself in harm’s way in a deliberate attempt to absorb as much of the strike’s potential as she could. Somehow, she managed to endure for over nine, horrendously long and drawn out seconds of eternity before her threshold ruptured. A dazzling white chrysanthemum burst arched outward, covering Athena City itself and extending as far as Karkalla, Trikkia, and across the Atlas Sea to Kosse.
With nothing to stand in their way, shards of residual energy battered the southern continental shoreline, carving it into five huge distinct gulfs—and in one area—almost severing the south western peninsula from the rest of the mainland. Countless square miles of bedrock were smashed downward, compressing the already delicate strata even further and spawning a substantial tremor as the sea raced hungrily to fill the void.
The weight of the inrushing monster tide sparked another reaction and millions of tons of rock and water started spuming high into the sky. Beneath it, the earth itself appeared to vibrate like the skin of a war drum sounding the call to battle.
Thousands of mortals called out, their last moments alive filled with bewilderment and fear as they realized they were about to perish. True to form, Psi-edon uttered a self-satisfied cry of glee. That will teach you for choosing her over me, he crowed, now you see the price of . . .?
Unfathomable majesty coalesced behind him. Strengthening his screens to maximum, Psi-edon turned to face this latest challenger and came up short: You!
A huge gale of mental laughter followed. Boy, you had better run along and hide behind someone’s coattails before you stretch my patience beyond its limits. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.
Apollo continued to advance, his purpose concealed behind a veil of obsidian menace; his plexus blazing coldly.
Psi-edon continued: Do you really think you can take me, boy? Do you seriously think you have the potential to defeat the likes of me?
No answer was forthcoming.
Still one hundred yards distant from his uncle, Apollo began drawing on the tincture of reality far more adroitly than Psi-edon thought was inhumanly possible.
Suddenly aware of his error, Psi-edon poured even more energy into the strongest shield he had ever created. He snarled: Let’s see if you can kill me then . . . boy.
At last Apollo replied. Oh no, Uncle, I think father has something rather special in store for you.
And with that, Psi-edon discovered for the first time in his long and illustrious life just how competent his young nephew was. His most potent defense was routed with surprising ease; his psi-well was capped within vicelike bands of restrictive agony; and his transcension program was stripped entirely before being blocked. Thus bound, Psi-edon suffered the further indignity of being drained to the point of oblivion.
However, instead of absorbing that potential, his nephew used Psi-edon’s own former psyche against him and imprisoned him within the halo of a Null Vortex of stunning finesse.
Helpless, constrained to human form, and stripped of any hope of escape, Psi-edon had to concede he had drastically underestimated the twins. The possibility had never occurred to him that they could inherit such potential from their father . . . considering his unique origins.
He was snapped from his reverie by his nephew’s chill reminder: Like I said, father has something else in mind for you . . . as you’ll soon find out.
Without further ado, the would-be leader of revolution was hauled unceremoniously back to Kalliste, where he wasn’t surprised to find his only surviving adherents—Ares and Hestia—dangling in similar psychic restraints above the scene of their greatest crime. From what he could surmise, the Zus Adhem-un and Artemis appeared to be working in concert, in an attempt to nursemaid the entire Atlantean fault line through the multiple tremors provoking the formation of an ever widening subterranean geomorphic web.
Artemis expressed her reservations out loud to her father: It’s no good. If we spend too long trying to close the fretwork of fissures here, we won’t have time to deal with the tsunami. One way or another, we’ve got to make a choice.
Zus Adhem-un’s reply was laced with regret: No, my daughter, I’ve got to make a choice.
Glaring at the instigators of the unfolding tragedy in a way that left no doubt they would answer for their crimes, the Father Protector then cast his farsight outward, toward the ridge of the killer bore as it sped away from them at over three hundred and fifty miles per hour. Next, he jumped ahead of the crest to asses which islands of the archipelago would be hit first. Finally, he looked down through the intervening strata to the boiling cauldron still straining to find release.
Enlarging the scene so that everyone could see, he drew their attention to a pooled hotspot at the apex of the giant magma chamber. That’s going to blow the rest of the Olympiad apart and devastate the whole Atlantean area if we stop trying. But if we delay much longer, the wave will destroy everything the mortals have built.
Reverting to their intimate mode to deliberately exclude the now defunct rebels, he continued: Apollo, when Kalliste goes it will trigger major changes to the lithosphere and no doubt initiate an even bigger tidal wave. I’m going to modify the crust over the next few minutes to ensure that when this thing pops, it goes straight up, venting as much of the energy as possible into the atmosphere, and taking out the capital with it. That way, I’ll save most of the nearby island chain.
He paused to scan the fault zone again, this time displaying his calculations visibly as he determined the countermeasures required to to redress the balance—even a little.
In a trice, he had his answer. His body began to shine, radiating with a strange nebulous luminescence as he summoned a metamorphosis he had not entertained in over a thousand years.
Son, I need you to get across to Andros, Kosse, and Rhodos and evacuate as many as you can on the way. The eastern mainland of Rhodos will do as a staging area. You should find your task a little easier as Psi-edon has already destroyed the largest settlements along the south and west of those islands in his pathetic attempts to remove our supporters. Work quickly, lives are the priority. They can always rebuild afterward.
Artemis, you take Athena City and the mainland around it. It’s a horrendous mess up that way as the entire district is still unstable. Evacuate first and we can always mop up afterward once people are safe. When I’ve finished here, I’m going to see what we can salvage at Kriti, Atlantis, and Hermania to the south.
A gigantic eleven-foot tall angelic apparition of transcendent beauty now blazed in mid-heaven, its radiance so bright that it cast secondary shadows on the earth beneath. Vaster and more glorious than any of them remembered, the Father of the Gods was revealed in his full potential. Those on hand stared in wonder, especially the older immortals, who only now recalled from whence they’d come and who it was they had dared to cross.
A simple thought bound the rebels further within a temporal cocoon. Then, together with his might offspring, the Zus Adhem-un set about completing the saddest duty he had ever undertaken.
*
Over the next hour, more than eight million souls from the once jewel of modern civilization, were saved in a three staged relocation effort of gargantuan proportions.
Artemis, tasked to serve those mortals in the Satrap covering the inland capital of Athena, was shocked to discover the devastated city had almost succumbed to the cruel encroachment of the sea, while the former major ports of Apollyon, Monolithium, and Hestiania were now fully submerged.
Over a dozen larger towns were also lost during the upheaval and Mount Athena to the South had been completely obliterated. Though initially inundated, its sister peak, Mount Egina survived, albeit as an island now separated from the refashioned mainland by a seventeen-mile wide channel.
Loss and suffering reigned everywhere, and the already stricken populace was forced to move far inland; firstly to avoid the effects of repeated aftershocks as the earth’s crust fought to stabilize; then later to evade the desolation wreaked by the double tsunamis, the second one of which swamped the virgin shore to a distance of thirty miles before finally receding.
On a positive note, Artemis had been pleased to find the Pantheon at Athena—along with the city’s backup monolith gate and power generator—was still intact and operational. Because of this, Artemis was able to transport thousands to safety before its energy eventually depleted, significantly reducing those requiring teleportation during the latter stages of the relief effort.
Such was the scope of her efforts that she later came to be revered by the more than one million people she was able to rescue as the Victorious One, the immortal benefactor who overcame the blight of the evil demon gods. Indeed during the millennia that followed, the use of her name gradually evolved, coming to reflect the outcome of her deeds and the salvation she brought to those who would otherwise have faced certain death.
Apollo, leapfrogging Andros, Naxos, Kosse, and Karpathania prior to the arrival of the initial tidal wave, simply evacuated all of the panicking population from the smaller municipalities along the way and placed them together on the southeastern headland of his final port of call, Rhodos.
He made his stand there in sun bright transcended glory, braced across the seafaring entrance to Rhodos City, generating a shield of such heroic proportions that it was able to withstand the unimaginable charge of millions of cubic tons of water. It was a magnificent, fear inspiring sight, watching a dual-headed surge wall higher than the cliffs of Pelion smash against his invisible will, only to be held in place until the energy driving it had bled away, back into the bosom of the earth.
His colossal efforts that day not only saved the lives of over two million refugees, but earned him the love and respect of the populace as a whole, who went on to express the depth of their gratitude by immortalizing him in marble and bronze. Standing proudly across the harbor, his enormous monument served as a timely reminder to future generations that only by uniting together could adversity be defeated.
*
In preparation for the inevitable destruction of his home for the past two thousand years, Adhem-un also had to steel himself for the shipwreck such a drastic act foreshadowed regarding his original proposal for mankind. Thinking back on all the effort and sacrifice; the heart and soul devoted through the centuries to this project; the careful guidance provided to ensure humanity reached their potential—only to see it snatched away just as things were beginning to bear fruit—made him more determined than ever to succeed.
And succeed he did, for he was peerless among his kind.
Extending his immense talent for precognition into the dusky skein threading its way through spacetime, the Father Protector commenced strumming the multitude of subdued possibility filaments he found there. Glowing like dying embers in a cooling hearth, most expired in wasted expressions of futility. But not all.
I see you!
The silver luster of a viable reality nexus gleamed bright amid the gloom. Seizing it, he began to play; softly, delicately; expertly plucking its structure with a refinement that coaxed notes of soaring beauty and complexity to the fore.
Drawn by what he heard, Adhem-un meshed his consciousness to that nexus, intent on following it toward the culminating feasibility climax in the far distant future.
And there it was: the golden bloom of hope; a triple helix of swirling petals orbited by myriad rainbow blooms, swirling along the path that must be followed to ensure the life of this world—along with its ultimate potential—would not be squandered.
So profound was Adhem-un’s relief at discovering that one strand, that his transcended heart swelled to bursting. If he’d been in human form, there was little doubt he would have been moved to tears. As it was, the song of his emotions tinkled around him like a swelling melodic halo, expressing to the cosmic all how alleviated he felt just knowing a chance—no matter how slim—remained.
The phoenix will rise, he murmured, showing a clear understanding of the enduring patience that would be required to see this new course to fruition.
But first . . .?
With a heavy heart, he initiated the blast that would vanquish Kalliste’s fragile foundations, allowing the barely restrained magma to voice its anger on an already devastated land. Having done so, he teleported to a better elevation from which he could maintain a lonely vigil as his home finally met its end.
In slow motion, an area encompassing about six by three miles slowly bulged upward as the lithosphere inflated, only to fall away moments later when a void opened beneath it. That collapse was misleading, however, for the ground leaped skyward again a split-second later in a cataclysmic expression of earthshaking magnitude.
Scanning the ruined substrata, Adhem-un could see why the eruption was so catastrophic. Toxic vapors trapped below ground had been compressed far beyond their natural capacity to remain thermally stable. The instant the crust was pierced, the inrush of air led to a hypervented outpouring so rabid that the resultant explosion not only incinerated the bedrock close to and at the surface, but also far down into the mantle as well. The influx of frigid water that followed caused instant steam flash, forcing further expanding volatiles into an already tumultuous brew. Needless to say, that incendiary mix evaporated the entire central region of Kalliste in its rush for freedom, triggering a total collapse of the southwestern segment of the island.
A huge ring of earth, over a mile in breadth, was flung upward and outward, joining the searing magma and boiling fumes already rocketing toward the stratosphere ten miles up. Projecting about, Adhem-un could see larger fragments curling away toward Ios, Amorgosia, and Milosia, while the lighter particles kept on ascending into the mesosphere.
Gauging the strength of the prevailing easterly wind, Adhem-un nodded in satisfaction. At least one thing was working in their favor, as the countercurrents higher up in the atmosphere would help to keep the dissipating ash cloud confined to a relatively small area, thereby reducing the impact of corrosive emissions.
Pondering, quietly, his thoughts brought some degree of comfort: They might have to wait a decade or so, but life across the fallout zone will survive. And with the fortitude I know they possess, they’ll eventually recover.
His rose tinted reprieve ended there, for the newly spawned tsunami was even more powerful than its predecessor. Making its presence felt across an expanding wave front, it was already more than two hundred miles wide and hurtling along at close to the speed of sound. Analyzing its composition, he estimated the bulk of its energy would strike the mortals’ planetary capital of Adhemun on the northern shores of Kriti—a place dear to his heart, as that was where he had first revealed himself to mankind.
Another major earthquake gripped the entire fault line, this one working its way down the southern accretion prism toward the coast of Africa. Perched along the boundary of the same continental ridge, Atlantis, Hermania and Heàdis slumped into the newly opened abyss, dragging the northern coastline of Kriti along with them.
Hot on that convulsion’s heels, the leading edge of the propagating wave surge skimmed across the roots of the sunken islands, gaining height as it did so. Exerting his long-range astral faculty, the Father Protector skipped ahead to the most heavily populated of Kriti’s cosmopolitan cities; Adhemun, Apolos and Helios. It’s unlikely they’ll survive. And even if the swell doesn’t crush them entirely, what’s left won’t be fit for anything but gulls to inhabit. So . . .?
Accepting what was certain, the Zus Adhem-un refused to be sidetracked by sentiment. Swiftly determining where he could best direct his efforts, he flew into action.
*
Looking back on that day, the survivors from those southern islands and their many cities, townships and surrounding villages were able to recount a saga’s worth of tall tales, heroic deeds and endless miracles in great detail. For once, such accounts were well worth listening to, for nobody needed to exaggerate a single thing.
Whether they had been cowering in dread as their homes and businesses collapsed about them, or screaming in terror as the very ground beneath their feet fell away, all recounted feeling the same weird fluttering sensation in their stomachs before a sense of utter tranquility infused their souls with a cast-iron guarantee of salvation.
And the coincidences didn’t stop there, for while the specifics of each story differed, a common denominator continued to worm its way through an extraordinary narrative.
Wherever they were, no matter the circumstances, one and all reported being scooped away from whatever predicament assailed them and lifted high into the heavens. There, out of harm’s way, they were amalgamated into a vast macrocosm, a single united audience to the calamitous events that then unfolded:
A huge black smudge appeared far to the north, its presence a rapacious and ominous stain against the bright blue expanse above. While yet distant, thunder rumbled, providing an echoing accompaniment to the branched electrum fracturing the pall from one end to the other in haphazard photonic majesty. Each interlude between strikes served as a warning, for as the shroud advanced, the wind began to freshen, rushing toward an unknown goal in quickening gusts. Soon, it was snapping like a whip, driving the rain and whitecaps before it in stinging rebuke. A background resonance built in the ether; a timbre felt, not heard; a subsonic challenge even the foolhardy couldn’t ignore . . . and with good reason.
The veil swept closer, its fulgurous gloom a freakish crucible that blocked out the sun, leeching the courage from many of those watching. The lower half of the mass evolved into a seething monstrous cliff, a pelagic maw intent on consuming everything in its path.
Roaring out of the darkness, the wave smashed into the crippled husk that was Kriti, stripping the pedestal of high society clean of any evidence humans had ever lived there. Its hunger was relentless, for the surge pressed inland, encroaching upon the slopes of the Astral and White Mountains—and in some cases—even intruding as far as the cities of Ierapetras and Vouvassia along the southern peninsula.
It was only after events had climaxed and the millions of refugees were being deposited in droves along the shorelines of those lands surrounding the Atlas Sea that it at last dawned on them . . . something was off!
Not only was the daylight an odd color, but it had been shining from a multitude of different angles. Even more perplexing was the fact that the solar disc was still occluded behind a thick blanket of cloud. So how could everyone see?
That’s when the author behind the benevolent invisible force revealed himself and everyone discovered that this new blazing daystar, radiating light and warmth from on high, was none other than the Zus Adhem-un himself—the Father Protector, first among the Gods, possessor of the Aegis and all glad tidings—come to safeguard them in their hour of need.
For need there was.
It took over a month to treat the afflicted and relocate the homeless. Grateful citizens were gradually grouped together by families or trade, equipped with the provisions they needed to rebuild a comfortable life, then transferred to new, specially prepared settlements selected for them in a variety of prime locations. The former glory of the Protectorate might be gone, but cultured civilization would endure, as would their prospects for the future.
However, as relieved as Adhem-un was by such progress, another vital chore still awaited his personal attention.
*
Without warning, Psi-edon, Ares, and Hestia were able to see, hear, and feel again. Experiencing a bout of lightheadedness, they stumbled and reached out to each other, only realizing at that moment they were still in human form. Freezing gusts chilled them to the bone, causing them to instinctively huddle together for warmth.
Squinting against the glare of sunshine on snow, all three covered their eyes and commenced a slow three hundred and sixty degree turn, shuffling like penguins as they did so. A vista of endless white, sparkling like fire diamonds, greeted their scrutiny. Unprotected as they were without their powers, they began to shiver and subconsciously brushed at the ice crystals forming on those sides of their bodies exposed to the wind.
Turning full circle, they completed their inspection to find their nemesis standing mere yards away. Flanked on either side by his formidable offspring, The Father Protector’s demeanor was as hard and flat as pitch.
“I’m not going to waste my energy talking to you, as we’re way past the time for talk,” Adhem-un began, making a sweeping motion with his hand, “especially as your new home will provide you with ample opportunity to think long and hard about the future and your part in it.”
He gestured again, this time at the ground in front of them, and the permafrost there melted away to reveal a narrow borehole.
A brief tingling sensation followed, along with a moment’s disorientation, and they were teleported into an underground vault containing an antigravity generator with solar backups and three bio-pods.
Adhem-un resumed his explanation. “I have left your self-regenerative plexuses intact, along with an aspect of your ultrasenses to allow you a small degree of astral projection. Your other abilities will remain capped until I choose to restore them . . . if ever. Rather than simply destroy you—as the twins would have me do—I have opted for a less lethal form of correction. One that allows you to play a part in the grander scheme of things should you wish it.”
The fallen trio looked around the cold, imposing room, devoid of any of the creature comforts they were used to. Noting the cryotubes and the bank of computers and automated security stations that would provide the only furnishings to their abode over the coming centuries, they paled visibly.
Indicating the suspension chambers, Adhem-un clarified their situation, “You’ll be imprisoned in stasis, here on the southern continent of this world in a permanent dreamlike condition, well away from those you could possibly harm. I’ve ensured that your minds will remain cognitively aware, allowing you to reflect on the appalling results of your cowardice and egotism over the millennia ahead. Your biometrics and psiometrics will be monitored, regularly assessed and, if necessary, recalibrated to evaluate how deeply you come to repent of your actions. If in time you express true regret for your crimes, you may be released and your abilities gradually restored. Conversely, if at the time of Unification—now delayed by thousands of years because of your interfering—you are still intent on domination, well, be under no illusions . . . you will die. I will never allow you, or anyone else for that matter, to prevent this race from attaining their full potential.”
Psi-edon hissed in anger. “You are a fool if you allow this travesty, they will think to equal us, we who were once of the hea—”
“SILENCE!” raged the mind and storm-loud voice of the Father Protector, suddenly transformed into a titanic apparition before them.
Such was the weight of his rage that the prisoners were forced to their knees. Expecting death, they cowered on the floor, only to find the storm had dissipated as instantly as it had appeared, leaving Apollo and Artemis exchanging puzzled glances behind their father’s back over his outburst.
A moment passed before Adhem-un continued. “You know we are not permitted to speak of those times, and you are a fool if you fail to realize that in the future this race will not only equal us as we are now, but surpass our feats in many ways too. Those of us who were first have a duty to protect and safeguard them so the Grand Unification can manifest. Had you not been so consumed by avarice, you would have surmised that there are already individuals on this planet who have taken their first tottering steps along the path to transcension. They belong with us in this plane, and I will afford them every opportunity to succeed, with or without your help.”
And with that, the cowering rebels were rendered catatonic and confined to the long sleep of oblivion. Rejected, they lay forgotten by the world at large, awaiting the day of reckoning that would one day surely come.
*
Zus Adhem-un, Apollo, and Artemis—operating from their temporary home on Mount Olympus—initiated a significant program of biomimetic land and plant husbandry in many areas over the following years to ensure the institution of a suitably diverse ecosystem. Under their care, crops thrived, trade flourished and a wide gamut of cultural and civil pursuits was reintroduced.
Eventually, after everyday life had reestablished itself, they called together the newly elected Magisters and Guild Leaders, issued final instructions, and bade their worshippers a sad farewell. They went to great lengths to emphasize that never again should mortals become as overly dependent upon the Gods as they had been previously. Mankind must find their own way, and although they would find it difficult, especially in those early years, society as a whole would benefit in the long run.
The populace received that news with sadness and trepidation, fearing to face the future alone. However, knowing without a doubt that these surviving Gods had nothing but their best interests in mind, they eventually acceded to their wishes, declaring they would never forget their saviors, and asking them to accept a parting gift in honor to the Zus Adhem-un.
That gift was bestowed with the unanimous agreement of the people: to rename the entire region, and indeed the sea itself to the Aegean, in remembrance of the light the Father Protector had shed across the Earth on the black day of salvation.
The Zus Adhem-un graciously conceded, and thereafter, the Gods returned to Olympus where they gradually withdrew from open interaction with human kind. As such, despite the best intentions and motives of a grateful community, they gradually faded from memory with each passing generation.
Tales emerged from time to time of course, regarding mysterious benefactors who would step in at critical moments to protect the weak; the deserving; and those special few who found themselves in dire need.
Whoever those benefactors were, or what they were called, depended upon which civilization happened to be in ascension at the time. But as the years turned to decades, and decades to centuries, open reference to the gods of old faded into myth and legend and they were never openly seen or heard from again . . .
For a long time!