The night had grown dark and the sun was starting to reach its horizon. The collective was busy working away - the path ahead was blocked by firewalls and other hackers amongst the numerous security measures the CCD employed. They were getting no where.

But no one was complaining and Bryan was enjoying the challenge. Though he had lost sight of the original goal. Now it was just about breaching the walls. He'd started a fight he intended to win.

Bryan was locked away bundled in a fur lined winter jacket and fingerless gloves underneath a blanket. The server room was freezing, and the blue lights all around made it feel like some eeire winter wonderland in cyberspace. His ears were covered with noise canceling ear buds blaring some of his favorite hacking playlists. He didn't hear the team break in to Sage's apartment through the front door. He didn't hear the rush of air leaving the server room as they bypassed Sage's security panel and entered into the room with guns trained at him.

The team was small. They were all wearing black and were a stark contrast against the white walls of the server room. Three red lazer beams floated across Bryan's body and a man had stepped up to the computer terminal and tapped on the monitor in front of Bryan before he even noticed the four people standing in a once upon a time secret room.

Bryan's hands shot up and he yelped loud enough he heard himself over the music playing. As quietly and as quickly as they had asserted themselves into Sage's apartment they left...Byran dragged along with them with a black bag over his head, his noise cancelling ear buds in place and a gag in his mouth.

The scent of grass and flowers and fruit and water filled the crisp air. Warming rays of sunlight cut through the leaves, leaving shadows on his arms and legs. He put his head back and rested it against the rough bark, stretched out sensuously and felt the cool earth and the tickle of the blades against his palms and fingers, feet and toes. He inhaled deeply and with satisfaction, the sound of chirping summer birds and the cool rustle of leaves filling his ears.

His entire life, it seemed, he had lived here, was one with the earth, one with life. The memory of a simple life- filled with hard work, with the sweat of ones brow and the soreness of hard-earned muscle- was all there was, all there ever was in this single moment. The sound of children playing. The laughter of friends and brothers and sisters. A connection in the web of life, his roots firm and deep. A lifetime. Peace. Tranquility.

Pop. As if a soap bubble burst. And then things shifted. It was him. And now it wasn't. Or rather, now it was him. The other....a fleeting memory. Even as he reached out to it, to examine it, it vanished like smoke through fingers. The harder he struggled to reform the image- the recreate the scene- the more ephemeral it became. Not his dream.

His consciousness seemed to crest the surface and gradually he became aware of his surroundings. Each sense individually presented itself, one at a time. The warm slightly sulfurous smell curled his nostrils. The sounds of muffled distant voices echoed off stone, the words strange and twisted. The warmth of a heavy furred skin on him trapping his body heat, the feel of hard padding beneath his naked flesh. He opened his eyes to a semi darkened chamber, the flicker of fire light from far outside the room.

The cobwebs of the dream were brushed away as easily as by hands and now he was firmly awake. He listened to the distant voices, making out words here and there. He wondered how long he had slept. He checked his timepiece. 10 hours.

He was surprised. He thought his body would demand much more. Indeed, tiredness seemed to wash over him for a moment, but then it was gone. Or at least was something he could push aside. The ache was there but dull. The medication and burn treatments had done their job and while tender, it was livable. He was sure he'd need more rest later, but it was enough for now.

He sat up, ignoring the light-headedness for a moment, and then stood. His robe was folded on the ground. He stood and stretched out, felt the delicious pain in his arms and chest, felt the warm dry air over his body. It was all very sensual and strange. He dressed in the clothing he had been given, the robe last over his bare shoulders furry and warm, though open at the chest. His packs on the ground yielded his water- untouched- and he performed his morning ablutions as best he could. He also ate one of the energy bars and the rumble of his stomach dissipated.

His strong nose and blue eyes were sharp and alert as he stood in the entrance way. The rest had been good and necessary. He was Armande, Regus of the Atharim. And apparently, amazingly, was some sort of Messianic figure to these Khylsty. What that meant, he did not know. But he was will to trust this much. Something was at work and he had a purpose to play.

The opening skirmishes with the reborn gods had left casualties on both sides- thankfully Apollyon himself included. But the war was far from over. What he had lost he needed to gain. Apollyon's death would not stop the resurgence. The Atharim needed to be strengthened. They needed leavening. These Khylsty could be that straw amidst the clay.

He stepped out into the rock hallway, his robes brushing the rough ground, and strode purposefully to the voices he'd heard.

A larger room- the one he'd remembered from his treatments- came into view. Matvei and his apprentice were there, along with a few others. Valeriya was nowhere to be found. He knew the dynamic here. He had no interest in helping Matvei- the Hand- upset the order. Not unless strictly necessary. Valeriya was the one who had seen and recognized him. She was the Eye. What that meant for him, he couldn't specifically say. Or wouldn't say, anyway.

"I thank you for my accommodations. I found them very restful." He nodded his head a fraction graciously. He studied both men. If they had slept, he did not know it. Now that he had rested, he felt a renewed sense of vigor. Other kinds of hungers squirmed and for a moment he was torn. The map called to him. For a moment, a memory of a scent came to him, familiar. Warm. And then it was gone. He shook his head, returning to his thoughts. What did the map mean? Where did it point? The Eye. A living map, a conduit to otherworldly knowledge. His. He was unsure which to ask to see first.

That disturbed him.

It was the eyes that decided him.

"Please take me to the things that have been taken from the hidden chamber."

Matvei's assent was followed by his leading the way.

Elyse felt nervous. More nervous than she had ever felt when staring down a monster of sorts. Elyse knew her parents and knew what they believed. She also knew that this conversation could go either way. Her parents could never talk to her again - even decide to come after her. They could also decide that they loved their daughter too much for that. That is what Elyse hoped for.

Nox's friend Sage had set up and untraceable line for her. Elyse hated taking this precaution, but she had to. Just in case. It had been Ana who had convinced her to make the call, and it had been seeing Dorian's approach to this situation that had made her decide to actually do it.

Still Elyse calmed herself before making the call. She had asked to do this by herself and was unsure of how she would respond if they took this the wrong way. Elyse was ready to cry.

ELyse took her face out of her hands and took a deep breath before hitting send. The phone started ringing. Elyse took a deep breath. She couldn't turn back now.

The Kallisti thread with the Dranaika and Nox has been burning a whole in my head for some time now. While I plan on using bits and peices of this Fanfic in game, I kinda want to write what's running through my head out anyway knowing it won't go like this in game. So this is a portal stone adventure for Nox.

The title is in reference to the following quote on wikipedia:

Quote:<dl>
<dt>Kali</dt>
<dd> </dd>
</dl>
Shakta Hindu and Tantric sects additionally worship her as the ultimate reality or Brahman.
~ cite: Kali on Wikipedia

Their only plan to find the Regus was seek him out. The Baccarat Mansion was gone. That would only scatter the Atharim making them harder to find. But the Vatican still stood. If it feel much more than their hidden society would fall - parts of the world might go down in hail of glory - everyone against everyone. It reminded Aria very much of the doomsday feeling she got from the parchment so many months ago. It had really only been months. Not a year or years - months.

The greatest irony of all was that Aria was still receiving funds from the Atharim. Her apartment was still in good standing. Whatever had happened at Headquarters had deterred the Regus from whatever he intended to do about her. She would play it safe, but she wasn't a traitor yet. If he were dead - well and truly dead, she could still function within it's ranks. She was Atharim and there was nothing more to her than that.

Aria could use this knowledge to enter known safe houses, replenish supplies and even ask about the Regus' whereabouts without raising any flags. Not anymore than usual anyway. It was knowledge that she sought, and someone had to have some idea. Martin was dead. The Regus has been injured - Aria was sure of that, but here she stood without a scratch. She was completely whole - in every sense of the word.

Her gift returned. Something she would hold to until the end of her time. It was part of her and it was like dying without it. It was in those memories of pain that Aria remembered the solitude that she'd sought and found again... Returned from his travels without a word. Not that Aria expected anything of Dane. But she had been so busy focusing on Ascendancy she'd missed the change in venue when Dane purchased tickets to Moscow. Aria hadn't checked in on it, she knew where he was.

And while she needed to see Nox and figure out how they would proceed in the future she felt the crushing pull to find that which she was obsessed with. Wandering the city seemed a pointless venture. She knew he'd stayed at the Ritz Carlton before that was where she would start.

Aria was thankful for the casual business attire she'd been given after leaving the hospital. It was most uncomfortable and very not her, but she wouldn't stand out much in the lobby of the grand building. She could easily walk in and search floor by floor for the presence she was looking for.

Aria bore no weapons over the black dress pants that fell over a pair of black heeled boots. The green button down was a close match to her eyes. The weather was cool, but not cold. Spring had sprung and Aria wore only the matching jacket over the shirt. Her oroborous tattoo was fully covered by the shirt and jacket, not that it was a major deal breaker but Aria wasn't certain that people would recognize the symbology of it from the images leaked to the world.

Aria extended her senses to cover only a few rooms at a time. She glided through the halls like she belonged there. She moved with a purpose. The man she sought had to be here...

Wandering the Kremlin had been boring and Aria found herself back in her room. Sometime that evening Michal came in with a frown. "A moment of your time?" he had asked.

Aria didn't care she hadn't anything else to do. Michal informed Aria of her new task. Seek and destroy. Much like the Regus had sent Aria after the Ascendancy, the Ascendancy had turned the tables on the Regus and sent his own hound after him. It was a poetic sort of irony. But this time things were different. Aria may not be Atharim anymore, but she knew the Atharim. Hunting the Regus would be far easier.

Or so she had thought. The first thing that the ZARS team wanted was the location of the Atharim headquarters. Aria wasn't sure if the Ascendancy knew of the Vatican or not, but she if ZARS went in to Vatican City it would be considered an act of war, it was not part of the CCD. It remained its own entity throughout time. A hollow in the realm that was the CCD.

But she gave the location of the Moscow branch up. Michal had been surprised by it's location and it's proximity to the Kremlin. Aria knew much more about the Baccarat than she was going to tell these agents. If the Ascendancy asked she'd tell him, but she didn't want innocent people harmed because they had funded the Atharim. The Ascendancy wanted to keep them, but that didn't mean you didn't ax the dead weight. Money had to come from somewhere.

The plan was to attempt a small breech. Planning something large scale was going to get a lot of people killed. And you can't run an organization if your followers are dead. So stealth was the name of this game.

Aria hadn't really had time to wonder if the Regus had gotten her credentials revoked. There really was no way to tell without trying. Her wallet had been fried, and she was tasked with this one mission before she was allowed her own freedom - a freedom still grated with finding the Regus, but her life and her home would be her own. Though there was going to be the question of income... But that was a thought for another day.

Michal and two other ZARS agents Aria hadn't bothered to learn their names - not yet anyway - came with Aria to the Baccarat mansion. There was an eerie quiet to the back alleyways. Aria looked up to the fire escape that had led to her own apartment and frowned. Dane was back... She was both elated and frightened by the prospect of finding that familiar calm again. But she knew she would find it - there was nothing more compelling than finding Dane, but work came first.

The smell of stagnate ash filtered through the air. A gust of wind ripped through the alleyway carrying white flakes like snow, but the spring time sky held no winter clouds. The area was devoid of the mass presence of people below. Aria ran to the end of the alleyway that opened up into what was suppose to be the back garden of the Baccarat mansion. Before her where a once massive building stood there was nothing. The blue sky was visible past the mouth of the alleyway and the was nothing but a pile of ash and debris. What had once been a crowning jewel in the Baccarat name was nothing but dust. The Atharim would scatter to the four corners now. Some would return home - but most would go where they felt safest. What had happened? Who had brought the Atharim to their knees? Which question was more important - where was the Regus? or Who had done this?

The place didn't feel of death - the Atharim had survived. Had the Regus? Where would he go? Aria turned down the street back towards the Kremlin. She'd leave a report for the Ascendancy - he could dig up whatever lie beneath if he so desired. But Aria was certain it was all gone. There was no possible way the Atharim would let their home die without a fight.

The memory of the roar of the crowd still sent shivers up Marcus' spine as he dressed, as if the reaction to the Ascendancy's creation of the Arch was merely an appetizer, a prelude to a sumptuous feast.

Bykov and Vladislavovna had seemed overjoyed to find Ascendancy in health, at least in their own way. Neither of them were overly demonstrative unless performing, and their usual reactions always seemed a bit...off. No, not off. Slow, a hair less spontaneous than a normal person. Calculated. Not that most people noticed. But he had. It was something he struggled with as well. This time, though, the enthusiasm and joy seemed more natural. As if there was no attempt at artifice and manipulation.

And he had found it infectious. Especially when they immediately began plotting how to best reveal the Ascendancy's survival and recovery. They had to balance the pragmatic issues of the effect on worldwide markets and potential rebellions with the opportunity to turn a disaster into something truly amazing.

A compromise had been struck, perhaps not to everyone's liking, but such was the nature of compromises. The sea of people in the square dwarfed that from the announcement. This time, there were not shouts of anger or outrage. Instead, from the walls of the Kremlin spilling over into the Basilica and even the GUM, the hum of prayers and the twinkle of candlelight and tear and fear filled faces held vigil. Guards, police and ZARs were out in force but in truth, there was little for them to do. Around the world in other cities, news and online broadcasts showed the same thing. The world held its breath, unsure of what was going to happen next.

The moment had stretched out tautly, drawn to the very last moment it could.

And then Ascendancy had revealed himself, his face larger than life on the monitors- all monitors across the empire, the world- in bars and in squares and in homes and on wallets and tablets and everywhere they could be broadcast. His whole and hale face, body strong and without injury, such a contrast to the burned and nearly dead images that had filled the hearts of so many with fear for the future.

That roar...the thunderous groundswell, the cheering, the unending cheering and cries of joy and elation....Marcus had closed his eyes and reveled in it, felt it wash over him like a wave, fed on it even as he knew it was not his. Not yet. A smile played over his lips, allowed as it fit the mood of everyone. Allowed because one day, one day, this would be his. Consul of the Consulate on Channeler Oversight. Just a name, now, a position. But he would turn it into so much more. This power before him, flowing from the mass of people, he could almost reach out and touch, caress, could nearly see the currents and threads of the souls of everyone out there as they cast their dreams and hopes and joy out into reality and toward the Ascendancy.

On impulse he seized the Force and allowed the dual powers before him to play, wreathing themselves about each other, the two playing and complementing and strengthening and contrasting around him. He could almost visualize a cloak of it surrounding him, a mantle settling up him.

Now, just a few days later, the feeling still remained, lessened with time, it was true. But the memory of it was still strong. He dressed in a wool suit a purple so dark it was nearly black unless hit with the right light. His shirt was a deep forest green and his tie a gold checked pattern, his shoes a supple plum colored leather. But not his Sigma pin. A new stylized image and pin was being commissioned.

Reluctantly, he pushed away the elation. He needed to figure out how to shape his new Consulate. How to structure it. What its goals would be. And how he could use it. He wanted to get out, to gauge the feel of the people. The Force was fresh on their minds, the existence of channelers. He could watch interviews and talking heads endlessly analyze things- as if they knew what was going on or had a pulse on the groundswell. No, he wanted to judge for himself. To see what was needed and what was expected. It was his goal that the Consulate would be as pivotal and important as that of Bykov and Vladislavovna's.

The spring air was crisp and invigorating as he exited the apartment gates. He wanted to see the monument first. There would be where the crowd was most...energetic. Concentrated.


Edited by Marcus DuBois, Dec 1 2016, 05:02 PM.

Evie tapped her fingers against her lips, gazing out at the crowd in the Red Square, dwarfed by the monument. The mood in the hotel room was somewhat tense. When the diplomatic party had set out from DC, their goal was fairly straightforward. The US had a vested interest in ensuring that the CCD didn’t create an army of channelers. (Internally, Evelyn always felt a little giddy at the fact that her term had caught on so well.) They’d carefully gone through the legalese of the various nuclear non-proliferation treaties drafted between their countries over the past century, and created something that read nearly identically, except with individuals rather than missiles.

However, not even an hour into their flight news broke that Ascendancy had somehow suppressed a nuclear bomb, even at great personal cost. That threw a wrench into their plans, to say the least. All the various non-proliferation treaties were based on the presumption of mutually assured destruction. The fact that one side had the power and knowledge to nullify their greatest weapons was… unnerving to say the least. And the fact that Ascendancy had miraculously healed from his grievous wounds in a matter of hours only made things more incredible. Already she had heard whispers from their own aides that the man was a God.

Evelyn had no doubts that Brandon was as mortal as she. His blasphemous declarations of godhood irked her, but Evie had to admit that it also helped her standing tremendously. In her conversation with Nick Trano, she’d told him that a group of unpowered diplomats, no matter how experienced, would have a hard time negotiating with a man who had god-like powers. She’d been proven correct. Ever since news of Ascendancy’s feat broke, they’d been looking at her differently. She doubted that she’d be capable of stopping a nuclear weapon, but the rest of them didn’t know that. The Secretary of State had even admitted to her that he was grateful he had ‘one of them’ on his side. Evelyn had no doubts now that she’d be heavily involved in any negotiations. None of the other diplomats would dare meeting with Brandon face-to-face without her, if only out of fear for the man’s Power.

Evie looked to her right, where her best ally sat. Sofia Castilla was the ranking member of the Senate Foreign Relations committee, and also a Democrat. Congress being split between three major parties made things like committee makeup very interesting. Democrats had a hard time getting legislation passed because the Libertarian and Republican Parties tended to vote more similarly. However, Democrats still controlled a plurality of both chambers, and thus were far from powerless. Sofia wasn’t exactly pro-annexation, but she wasn’t an anti-CCD Republican hawk either. Their opinions on foreign policy matched almost perfectly, and even better, Castilla had made it clear to Evie that she was happy to defer to her judgement on matters of the Power.

Arnold Francis was another story. Getting Secretaries of State past congress was a delicate process for a Republican President. While Libertarians tended to vote with Republicans, foreign relations was one area on which the two Parties diverged. The Libertarian Party was almost isolationist, and so they wouldn’t approve an overly-hawkish appointment. Democrats of course ranged from explicitly pro-CCD to wanting positive relations at the least. Together, Libertarians and Democrats controlled a majority of seats, and could prevent a “bomb them before they bomb us” kind of Republican from taking office. Even so, that didn’t mean that Francis was an ally. He was vehemently opposed to Ascendancy (that was something that the Libertarians and Republicans agreed on), but he wasn’t likely to start a war at the very least. And, Francis had a healthy fear of power. He’d been shaken enough by the thought of Brandon having nuclear-level capabilities that he’d be willing to listen to Evelyn’s advice more often than not.

So in summary, Francis was off balance, and unlikely to seriously oppose any peaceful resolutions Evie could suggest, and Castilla was fully on her side. Evelyn had spent a lot of time strategizing with Castilla, trying to figure out their objectives. Neither woman was naïve enough to really believe that either side would seriously uphold any agreement to curb the use of Power in warfare, but it was the motions that mattered. The US wasn’t strong enough to seriously oppose the CCD, regardless of what Trano thought. It was important for them to find common ground, to create a record of peaceful agreement and coexistence. Her goal was more to open up a path for diplomacy, while staying firm enough to earn Ascendancy’s respect, if not his fear.

Their attention snapped towards the door as a knock sounded. An aide peeked through. “Ah, Sirs and Madams, his Honor the Ascendancy is ready to see you now, if you will follow me please.”

A sense of excitement and trepidation jolted through her, although she ruthlessly allowed none of it to show on her face. This was the moment that Evelyn had been preparing for her entire life. She’d been Chosen for a great purpose, of that she was sure. Whatever plans God had for her, this was where they all began.

The morning after the battle with Regus, Nikolai departed a hospital under the strictest of confidences. The car that carried him back to the Kremlin was completely enclosed before he entered the back seat. His flags bearing the double crescent were absent from the hood. No other ornamentation decorated the vehicle. The only hint that someone important was inside were the blacked out windows, but those were common in a city of billionaires that demanded privacy. It arrived in the Kremlin mid-morning, where he entered the fortress under similar circumstances. The heart of the empire, the Kremlin, had been emptied except for any non-essential personnel or those with the highest of security clearances. Certainly, armed ZARS and Kremlin police were out in force, patrolling on the ground and along the walls, in greater numbers than Nikolai ever recalled seeing. A threat entered the Kremlin last night, and for all they knew, a nuclear bomb had almost turned the city into a smoking crater. As well it might have, if that Ijiraq that stole his power away from him had been able to force him into using it. Nikolai knew his own potential, he felt it stirring when he was delving the reactor in Dayton, Ohio. He could turn the city into a crater if he wanted. Fortunately, Moscow's destruction was not imminent.

In truth, he had let his attackers inside, and confronted them alone. Michael had been unavailable, dealing with the remainder of the Andlain uprising with the ascendants. Alric had been literally thousands of miles away, arriving from DV only hours ago. That left Marcus as his only other powered ally. The boy was strong, Nikolai admitted, and while inexperienced, he proved himself to be loyal. Combined with Aria's alliance, trapping Regus and his second in command should have been easy as a snapping his fingers. However, ancient weapons were not something he'd taken into account. An ijiraq. The memory made him shiver.

He walked the remains of his own apartment in the sub-basements beneath the Kremlin. Dust kicked around his feet. Rebar and a trail of blood snaked the path where a wounded Regus had been dragged before him. More blood stained the floor where he'd been shot and collapsed. More blood splattered where a man had been skewered by a sword, or so he had been told. The sword in question was unaccounted for.

Then there was the spot where the Ijiraq's remains had been recovered. The corpse was taken to the Facility to be dissected and analyzed. Nikolai had every confidence that Captain Weston and her team would be able to tell him something useful to defend against it. Even if it's as trivial a thing as finding out if it was even human.

He considered using his own power to rebuild the bunker. The walls needed reinforced, that was certain, and he did take the time to do as much, if only for safety purposes. But the rest of the architecture remained. He was far more comfortable down here, but it felt wrong to hide now. As he had taken the seat of the Russian tsars upon receiving Ambassador Oakland, he would adopt the living quarters of the mighty dynstasty. The opulent and luxurious tastes were not his, per say, but that was not the point. Like the ruined Arcus band, the point was symbolism.

By afternoon, he was giving his ZARS defenders additional orders to work with Aria. Only she could lead them to the locations that might uncover Regus's whereabouts. He was the top priority at the moment. He and any of his closest allies that posed a threat to him. Aria was found sometime by evening and given permission to formulate a strategy with the team. Together, they were the deadliest force on the planet. He had no doubt Regus would be found soon. Even if they had to use dogs to sniff the trail of his blood. The man would be found and executed.

Nikolai was finally brought up to speed on the affairs of the world in his absence from the lands of the living. With the leak of his injuries and the massive uncertainty his potential death posed, stock markets around the globe plummeted. People were in near panic. If the Ascendancy died, what would become of the CCD? Of course he wasn't dead and he had a plan should it happen, but that plan seemed less and less necessary. With Jensen James under lock and key, any grave injury that befell him again would be healed. Assuming the universe would allow him to die at all.

Security was also becoming an issue. Some of the major cities in DII and DVI were uneasy. Where people gathered in large numbers, even those bringing flowers and lighting candles, unrest followed. A crowd had once again gathered in the Red Square, thousands of people on their knees in prayful bowing for his complete recovery. The walls and the Arch were piled up with flowers and gifts. The Square a sea of flickering candle light.

Then there was news that an American group were in route. Secretary of State and other top officials among them, having been on their way to discuss nuclear policy when the ironic threat left Ascendancy fighting for his life. Between everything, Nikolai made the decision to show the world a miracle that night at sunset.

In the Red Square, where he had stood on the balcony and constructed the Monumental Arch but days ago, he came upon a sanguine crowd. As he had before, he wove the flows to amplify his voice and gather their attention to him as a father gathered his children in tender embrace.

He promised he would protect them. He was their father as this city was their fatherland. He was near death, but he was restored to life by the power he wielded. What they saw of his body being broken was real, and horrifying, but he assured them he was strong as ever before. These threats were going to be eradicated. He would eradicate them. The Custody would be stronger than ever!

After the brief speech, he attended a press conference. True to his word, he was as sharp and strong as ever. He'd showered of course. His eyes were keen and bright. His smile was tempered with confidence and seriousness. The meeting with the press was brief, and he was soon ushered out and replaced by his media Consul for additional information.

Finally, when he ascended to the resting quarters of the palace of the tsars, he relaxed in bed and flipped through images of the holdings in the imperial treasury, seeking out the metal that would become the host of a new Arcus band. He wanted something ready by the time the Americans arrived.

<table><tr>
<td></td>
<td><big>Press Release
from the Press Office of the Holy See</big>
</td>
<td></td>
</tr></table>


For Immediate Release
Contact: Marcello Esposito, Diocese of Public Relations
marcello.esposito@relstat-segstat.va

A Response to Revelations made by His Excellency, The Ascendancy, Nikolai Brandon


His Holiness Pope Patricus and the Holy See extend a warm and comforting hand toward all those who have been stricken with fear and uncertainty after the Ascendancy Nikolai Brandon's recent announcement.

Please be assured that Christ's love, as expressed through the ministrations of the Holy Ghost and through Mother Church, is with everyone throughout the earth regardless of their faith. The appearance of supernatural abilities that has manifested itself throughout the earth has beeen frightening to many.

His Holiness and the Holy See encourage all to see these things for what they are. Yet another example of the myriad wonders of the Lord God our Creator.

His Holiness and the Archbishops of the Holy See will continue to pray and to seek the guidance of the Holy Trinity, the Blessed Mother and of the Saints, as they try to discern the Church's new role in the coming years.

In the meantime, everyone is encouraged to reflect the Spirit of Christ our Savior in showing themselves humble and the servant of all, even as the Our Lord washed the feet of his Apostles while in his Incarnation. Whether low or high, gifted or the salt of the earth, we are but the fingers and hands of the one God who is over all and in all. There is no place for violence or hatred.

We would also extend this gentle reminder to The Ascendancy himself, who has shown through the words and actions of decades the continuing concern for the welfare of the CCD Empire in his heart. The Lord God did indeed call those he has placed in authority 'gods', but only in the most relative sense. It is the fervent hope of His Holiness and of the Holy See that The Holy Trinity and Blessed Mother continue to guide The Ascendancy to be a hand of stability and order to the world in the coming years.



Edited by Regus, Nov 18 2016, 09:38 PM.