Olympus had been slow to rebuild because wartime made it all the easier for the usual delays to fester in the cracks: poorly defined and fluctuating scope, embezzlement, and inability to acquire sufficient material and manpower. Everyone involved saw it as an opportunity to make out like a bandit on a sinking ship.
Thanks to a new benefactor, the ship has made it to shore. The benefactor had prepared the blueprints for the new Olympus long before its planned destruction. The old model was suited for its old purpose, as a free-range prison for mutants and base of operations for the military, but it had to be torn down to make way for its future nexus of learning between this world and the next.
The former inmates that the Immortals liberated were employed to provide labor alongside gargoyles, and the supply chains for this project had their groundwork stirred from dormancy. The grand portal they built on what was once an airbase was the main gateway to Arx Horatius. Iolcus Tower was still under construction yet was already twice the building it once was—enough for the new benefactor to meet with the sole proprietor of Iolcus Industries.
“The PR guys said that benefactor sounded better, but I would much rather you call me master,” said Xiu Chen.
“Ms.—master Chen,” groveled Garrick to her delight, “I appreciate your assistance in this matter, though the workplace is a bit,” gargoyles carrying steel beams flew past the unfinished wall, “distressing.”
“This is nothing. You should have seen how the last meeting went.”
“I have heard. What truly concerns me,” she rolled her eyes, “is the scientific endeavor you assigned me. Transferring human consciousness to a machine is beyond current feasibility.”
“After everything you’ve seen and done, you’re still worried about what’s feasible? The world is truly stuck in the mud, and you have much to learn.
Understand: from here on, nothing is impossible. Humanity has crossed the horizon into infinity”
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Long ago, beasts stalked the streets of Lerna, until knights arrived that filled the gutters with blood to cleanse the streets to cacophonous applause. The drains scabbed over from neglect and there was nowhere for the blood to spill when true beasts came to roam the city.
Once the sky was dotted by drones, it was now haunted by the dark shapes of gargoyles, the chitter of harpies, the unblinking sylphs, and many more that spilled from the portal in Olympus. The monsters were harmless as long as one kept their head down, but some things that stemmed from the gateway could not be avoided.
The infrastructure that Colchis prepared to face its habitual disasters was now being used for the extraction of Earth’s resources to feed the development of Arx Horatius: materials, food, and manpower went in and rarely came out. Some, in Colchis and beyond, welcomed the great work that brought generous dealings and work opportunities. Everyone understood clearly that the Immortals held all the power in this business. The longer this went on, the more demands that were accommodated, the more their teeth would sink into every industry and facet of society. For now, this would not change the day-to-day life of most people, who could, again, keep their heads down to avoid trouble.
What was unavoidable was the sheer magical energy that spilled from the portal onto the rest of Colchis. The gateway was only active in short bursts, but those were enough for whispers of lethargy to seep into homes and hearts and drag the many feeble-minded into a stupor. The Immortals alerted when the portal would be active, and offered their guidance and response to help those who fared worst under the effects, but the only true reprieve came from Oracle church.
The bells no longer rang, but the healing prayer of the saint provided comfort even in the grip of hell. She knelt at the altar behind the pulpit and prayed all day, draped in a white habit embroidered with gold stars, star cross between her hands, under the light that shone through stained glass. Handfuls of people seated in and out of the nave each day to pray with her, but none of the crowds that the church once attracted returned.
When she prayed, she had always imagined two people looking over her shoulders. God stood over one shoulder, proud to see his work be done through her. Over the other…
“Why are you here?” she asked him as she knelt. He stood in the shadows between the windows.
“I wanted to see you,” said Tejieue, “I’m happy to see you pushing your limits. You got lax when I wasn’t around.”
“I have to. Your gateway would kill everyone if I didn’t.”
“Then it’s a good thing you are here to protect them while they adapt, just as you did when went to see my mother. I’m sure that was good practice.”
“Why don’t you do it? You’re the one with all the magic.”
“Not all of it. Yours is not an affinity, but a blessing from our Father. I can’t recreate it. That is why I am thankful for your service.”
“Is that all I am? A convenience?”
“Of course not,” she did not realize how close behind her he had gotten, “I wanted to see you. It’s been so long since we could talk together.”
Her palms curled together into a shaky fist as her anger rose to distract her from her prayer. She shot up and spun around to face.
“You’re the one who left. You’re the one who always leaves. You only come back when you need something from me and that hasn’t changed. The least you could do is leave me alone so that I can concentrate,” said Aaliyah. She had to bear the sight of that sickeningly sincere smile once more.
“Alright. Keep up the hard work. We will be building more gateways across the world. The magic from this portal should progress the acclimation of the rest of the world, but hopefully you will have awakened Horatius’ cross by then.”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
He sunk into the ripples behind him and Aaliyah fell hard upon her knees. She tightly gripped the cross with one hand as she fought back tears falling from her eyes and a scream from rising out her throat. The sound of thunder made her raise her head to the doors being thrown open and lightning bolting across the aisle.
“Aaliyah, are you alright?” asked Hannah, “I heard Tyler with you.”
“I’m fine,” Aaliyah rubbed her eyes and stood up, “we just talked. What were you doing outside?”
“There were some people who fell down from the dark energy so I gave them some of mine,” Aaliyah crumpled back down to her knees and Hannah swooped down to hold her, “What’s wrong?”
“He told me that more of those portals would be built. I can’t even protect one city. I thought that as long as my prayers could reach the ends of the world, I could help someone even a little, but I can’t do that anymore. I tried to use the power contained in this cross, but I’ve failed in that too,” the tears could no longer be fought back and her voice trembled, “everything I thought could do and believed in was worthless. I’m useless.”
Hannah firmly planted her hands on Aaliyah’s shoulders and shook back and forth until she was dizzy and looked up.
“You take that back! The Aaliyah Folious I know is the most amazing girl in the world! No one has helped more people in their lifetime than she does on any day! She does it because she believes it’s the right thing to do! The only one that can stop that from being true is Aaliyah herself!”
“Please, never go into therapy,” Aaliyah rubbed her eyes with her sleeve, “you’re bad at this.”
“I wasn’t counseling; I heard someone bad mouth my friend and I had to say something.”
“Well, I’m sure that you’re friend appreciates you sticking up for her, but that doesn’t change reality. She is already overwhelmed as it is; if it gets any worse, she won’t be able to sustain her protection.”
“I’m surprised he doesn’t do it herself. It seems like he is much more powerful than any of us,” Hannah winced and held her liver, “even in our own… affinities? That’s what they’re called?”
“He said he can’t recreate it. I guess that’s something I can call my own, then.”
“He can’t? I thought he had limitless power, but, well, that’s a limit right there.”
“Is that what you’re concerned about? Hannah. It’s over. He couldn’t be stopped before. Whatever limits he has now, that ceiling is far above a floor we couldn’t reach.”
“You said it yourself, this is only going to get worse.”
“And there’s nothing we can do about it. Unless you have an idea, I suggest you go back and continue helping any victims.”
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Tejieue’s room was left barren by his choice. Beyond necessities, he gave away almost everything else and wanted nothing, least of all decoration. Duty left little time for rest or recreation. All that remained were the children’s bins full of coloring and painting supplies.
Despite others rummaging through the bins with grubby, careless hands, he found what he was looking for: the models that Aaliyah and Hannah painted when they were children. Most of the wargames were conducted at the club in the library but these miniatures were kept for private practice. Hannah’s were sloppy with little improvement, while Aaliyah painted within the lines but never advanced much further. These results reflected their capabilities.
When he asked himself why he bothered to come here for this, he thought back on those times spent painting with them. No distant memory, he had watched those moments with The Mother recently. The room had to be prepared for the splash zone of Hannah’s messes, made all the more cumbersome by her electricity blowing up the paint. Aaliyah needed constant reassurance over the most tedious and trifling things or she would break down crying. It was a wonder how he managed to wrangle both of them into respectable women, but if it wasn’t him then no one could have
Reminiscing on those memories, coming here at all, distracted him. That was why he crushed the models into dust and incinerated the ashes within his grasp. Golden vapor trailed out of his helmet lenses. Destroying these memory models only further agitated him in the moment but his calm returned once there was not even ashes left. They were gone for good. The past could not be undone. Far more valuable work was ahead in the future.
He traced his fingers along the closet wall to make it fall away.
“I heard you learned new tricks,” said Victor Deimos.
“And you’re still cooped up in the office, spinning your wheels the same as ever,” said Tyler Deimos.
“Progress takes time.”
“I have accomplished more than every generation before me.”
“You’ve brought hell to earth.”
“I am building the only future humanity has left.”
“Is this how you wanted it to turn out?”
“I only do what I must.”
“We know,” Zhou Deimos tried to hold his arm but the coat sleeve stung her. She settled to grab his hand instead, “which is why you need to take a break to collect your thoughts.”
“My thoughts are more clear than they have ever been. I have made it this far thanks to your raising. Now stay out of my way.”
He brushed her limp grip away and stepped through the gateway. Mother’s side of the family from Hefei had been resettled in the storehouse turned manor. They were some of the first to become citizens of Arx Horatius and were grateful for this gift. They were attended to but held no special power or privilege. Lanying and Letiche would stay with them when Xiu and Tejieue were away until the basilica was restored.
He opened the door to the eternal dusk of the Flesh Plains. The restoration of the Arx would be done under the heartbeat of a baleful, writhing sky. Those who came here did so because this was a better alternative compared to the life they had on Earth. Many of them had no life to go back to.
Downhill, the wall was the prioritized renovation. Not to build it up, but to tear it down. This city was going to expand into a nation, and its people would need to move freely to enable its growth. Modern combat had little use for palisades; regardless, no daemon would dare attack so long as The Gator lurked.
Uphill, the triumphal arch was connected to the gateway in Olympus. More laborers, food, and materials would be brought in to continue the great work. Once the city was opened, that gateway would channel the flow of commerce between worlds. With their economies intertwined, so too would be their fates.
“Ya like what I’ve done with the place?” asked Auntie Chen from behind.
“I don’t remember Romans hanging up paper lanterns.”
“I’m remodeling with a Han-Roman chic in mind. Besides, the lanterns let the workers know where to go.”
“Don’t get distracted from completing the key elements first.”
“Gosh, you’re more of a stick in the mud than ever,” she stepped in front to face him with her hands on her hips, ”I thought you wanted to encourage the arts.”
“Yes. I suppose you’re right.”
She looked up at that lifelessly ferocious gaze and knew he was looking past her.
“Well, I’m going to do what I want regardless as Empress of this newfound nation. Unless you want to take the throne.”
“An alligator needs no throne. The prey just needs to know it's there. Now, everyone knows who I am.”
“Of course. Han-Roman chic it is. Later, alligator.”