-Most clever,- Cassandra Rantha /agreed, finding nothing wrong with that theory. -Of course, our problem remains if something is hiding in here. Can we find it?- she /asked, looking around and trying to sense if there was any current or flows around, but the violent discharges swamped the entirety of the Psionic Awareness she had that gave her such incredible awareness of the astral sea of the psyscape above. It was like trying to see through a hurricane.
-If there is an underlying structure, I’d need to be a Twenty-One to have any awareness it existed, a Twenty-Five to be aware of it, and likely a Thirty to truly understand it,- Kwannon /murmured. -Which, of course, is why we have spells.-
That was the difference between Skill Ranks and mere Caster Levels of Power, of course.
Kwannon pursed her lips, and her Astral Form blew a short, gentle Chord.
Cassandra knew this one well, as it helped her sleep at night. This one was Hope.
The gentle white light of it spread out about them, chasing away the darker emotions as it veered towards them, purifying a path that began to lead very quickly away from them.
The two women looked at one another, and flitted after it with mere efforts of will, following after Hope as it was drawn towards a source of despair.
There should be no sources of emotion here, they would all be up in the astral sea...
---
The vortex was visible only from a short distance, yet impossible to miss once it was there, like searching for a tornado in a fog bank, which you couldn’t hear or feel until you were almost on top of it. The remnants of Hope softly dissipated against it, overwhelmed by the amount of raw emotional power circulating there.
And there was definitely someone or something in the middle of it.
The dominant color was crimson, edged in a harsh, bone-whiteness, like well-wishes and benevolence drained of all but the most empty surface meanings. It looked like an armored figure, a knight of some kind in bulky armor, slowly and carefully pulling in strength from the energy flows about it.
-It is trying to condense a physical form?- Cassandra /theorized, staring at it. -Sufficiently compressed psychic energy, like an Astral Summons, or a Mindblade?-
-Sounds logical,- Kwannon /agreed. -Do you see a way to stop it?-
Cassandra pointed through the tumult in front of them, and they watched as a stream of souls came plunging through the chaos, entering the armored figure with determination and joy. Marks like Runes played over its armor as the souls were assimilated, and the figure became infinitesimally more defined.
-Another Ritual has gone off,- Cassandra /guessed narrowly.
-The polar streams,- Kwannon /murmured, drawing Cassandra’s attention to the threads entering the helm and soles of the figure. Those at the helm were the hollow whiteness, the empty blandishments of good surface intentions, while those at the soles were the crimson of tyranny and willingness to crush all that did not agree with them, that their way was the only true way.
-It is like self-delusion incarnate,- Cassandra /spat. -Are we to let this thing leech at the power of humanity like this?- Despite her revulsion, she controlled her emotions tightly, knowing they would expand and resonate with the tumult around them, pinpointing them instantly.
-We don’t have the pure power necessary to destroy it. It’s basically trying to form a compressed and purified hivemind amalgamated towards a single cause, like a trans-psychic god, something strong enough to take on Primus and the High Guard.-
-Fools,- /sniffed Cassandra, her eyes gleaming. -They are not the true defenders of Terra!-
-They are the most magnificent distraction,- Kwannon /agreed. -This vortex is too strong and established to disrupt easily, and if I interfere with it, I will draw an instant attack of incredible power. I believe I can quickly deduce how to prevent or interfere with another one being drawn up, but we must break this one down.-
Cassandra considered the problem. -Borrow a Hammer?- she /asked with a sly smile.
-That sounds like a wonderful idea.- Kwannon /agreed. -Why don’t you head up and wave at the old grouch, and I’ll give him something to home in on.- Tiny golden motes began to stream away from her fingers, and spun away into the vortex just ahead of them.
Without another word, Cassandra withdrew backwards and upwards, heading for the astral sea above. Markspace communication wasn’t working through the thaumind barrier, hardly a surprise given the psychic chaos here, but that was fine. Kwannon’s location was glowing to her as the streams of golden motes began to form a long, drawn-out Seal on that wall of psimana, broadcasting her precise location.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
-----
Kwannon watched the armored figure’s head jerk suddenly upright. That it sensed the attack coming before she did just clarified the fact that it was indeed a Legendary-Class entity.
The shining stars and silver streams of the Astral Sea tore away above them, and the Great Bear looked down from beyond.
He glowed like a sun, Making the Fate of the world as he lived. The psyscape around him was suffused with the hopes and dreams of all of humanity. A billion minds and more looked down from behind him, his stature and keystone nature making him seem to swell in size more, and more, and more, until his eyes blazed with condemning light greater than Sol, and the river of human destiny surged past him, overwhelming the vortex of the little pest below that was leeching off the unconscious of the world.
The entity snarled and decisively fled on the instant. Before that upraised Hammer could fall in passing, the amalgamated creature surged away into the thaumind field, its precious vortex shattering behind it, and it vanished into the chaos of mind and magic intermixed.
Briggs could only watch it go, losing it almost instantly. The Infinity Gems did not include control over magic among them, and mere control of the psyscape, reality, or space would not do the trick here.
As if it was nothing more than a reflex action in passing, the astral sea flowed back to its intact state, and the river followed his steps as Briggs walked away.
---
Below, Kwannon smiled as she felt the golden motes gleaming on the surface of the entity’s armor, allowing her to track it without using Hope again. It would no doubt try to rebuild its vortex in another part of the thaumind field, and she would begin hunting it as it did.
It was definitely extremely powerful, but it dared not pursue her, either Up or Down. She would have to guard against being caught, but she was totally going to be able to annoy it... and if it wanted to fight, to bring in the kind of help that it simply could not match.
Destroying it, now, that was going to be a mite harder... but if all it did was sit in the thaumind field, it was essentially powerless and unable to influence anything.
The only reason to do the vortex business was so it could manifest physically. When it did that, it could be smote... and if it was shattered in reality, it would be broken here, and she would be able to take it on.
Giving it a proper sense of frustration as it tried to build up the power to do so was only right, and the longer it took, the more of those Rituals would take place, removing its living supporters from creating havoc, too.
It wanted to be ruthless? There were layers to such things, too...
----------
Six months have passed since the Seven Spheres War began...
They popped up in the Markspace fairly concurrently, welcome lights returning. I /called out in delight as I felt them arrive home.
As they could all traverse time if needed, being pissy about the matter would have been low for their Patrons, so all of them had basically been sent back to the same point in time from whatever distant reaches of The Mess the whole event had taken place in.
War, not event. Yes, a cruel, terrible war, with all those phantasms killed, insults hurled, gloating delivered, unseen boundaries redefined, reputations enhanced or harmed, territories redrawn, and grudges made and resolved. A thousand years of devastating magical combat, here and done, and the rest of the multiverse went on oblivious to anything changing.
The FF were back, and seemed in good spirits. They’d settle their Timelessness after they were safely ensconced in the Baxter Building and caught up with their Clones. The X-Kids were already planning a big party for them, DiDi organizing the whole thing. They’d done a bang-up job keeping the place running.
I sighed in relief. This Sorceress Supreme stuff on top of my other workloads was just annoying.
I was a bit surprised when the Wards accepted a familiar figure who was not in my Markspace first. Thinking about it, I should not have been surprised. The others went across the road to their own rooms, which Uhura had immediately flitted over to freshen up for them, and were falling down on the beds they almost never used and going right to sleep.
Clea Strange walked into the scrying room, humming softly to herself. Extremely refined Elemental power swirled happily through the Wards, familiar, yet new and energetic.
Before she could say a word, I pointed at her. “Are you staying or going?” I asked calmly, Levy rising into the air from around my shoulders. Its colors rippled from royal blue back to scarlet and gold proudly, hanging in the air as the proper mantle of the Sorcerer Supreme.
The small smile on her lips did not change. “We... are going,” she admitted calmly, closing her eyes for a moment. The Eye of Agamotto unclasped from her neck and rose towards me. I gestured it aside, and it flew over to settle into the proper place on Levy. “We thank you for allowing us to borrow it. It was most helpful.”
“If it helped keep you safe and well, it was a minor matter,” I waved it away, rubbing my temples. “Well, Morgan is going to take over here, if that is not an issue, and Dealer is hosting a Convention of Death Gods at the moment over in the Dark Dimension. It turns out that Isotopic Ambrosias at QL 41 settle all arguments over a proper neutral ground.”
Her mismatched eyes glittered in appreciation. “Leave it to Dealer to make her regency of the Dark Dimension a networking event,” Clea Strange sighed knowingly, obviously unconcerned with the matter. “Is Wong still with her?”
“Where else would he be?” I replied with a smirk, and she only smiled more widely.
“It is good he has found someone to be with,” she nodded, eyes sparkling. She struck an elegant pose, and her hands swirled with particle effects. “Has our Elemental mastery reached your satisfaction?” she asked smoothly.
“Ohhh, that is very nice, very smooth,” I complimented her, watching the particle effects. “Extremely pure, especially the fire.” I squinted at the effects as I held them intact, staring at them. “Niiice. Twenty-three kinds of profound fire, fourteen of earth, seventeen winds, and nine kinds of water, with eighty-seven esoterics on top of that!” I gave her two thumbs-up even as her face scrunched in some disbelief that I could read all that. “Should I even ask how you were exposed to so many?”
She shook her head of ebon-chased white hair with a sigh. “One thousand years of practice, and you still make us feel silly for testing you!”
“Feels only fair for all the headaches you’ve given me.” I pointed at the Orb of Agamotto, which might have been bobbing a little bit in place. We both looked at it, and then I decisively shut its stand as we both rolled our eyes.
“He is still an incorrigible peeping tom. As for your question, once our aptitude became clearer, the Faltine grew somewhat more ambitious. The Elemental arena of conflict is quite broad, and so we were sent around to resolve some grudges and conflicts that had been simmering for, mmm, some time.” Which meant probably billions of years. “We naturally took advantage of the opportunities to study the realms and powers of our opponents.”