Li saw the press release sitting at the top of his wallet. He had a dilemma to deal with now. He was a god. He was Atharim, and now the Ascendancy was calling for registration for all 'gods' and the Atharim.

Both forms sat staring at him on his laptop while he sat in his hotel room at the Ritz. It was not an easy decision. Signing up for magic registration meant outting himself to the Atharim. But if he signed up on the Atharim he'd have to be interviewed and potentially judged on his choice of work. But if he didn't to the latter he would forever be worried about getting caught as a terrorist.

Registering for both would save some hardships he thought to himself. But it was a hard decision. He had thought long and hard on the situation and it seemed his fingers were acting without hesitation as he typed up his magic registration. But his finger hovered over the button before he moved on to the other form.

Li sat and stared at the forms and pressed submit and turned off his computer. This could end his career he had to tell his agent.

The day that she was given her credentials was a good day. She rode the subway to the Red Square station and walked to the visitor's entrance in the same sort of awe as when she met Marcus. Only, the difference today, was when she stopped at a check-in to report it was her first day on the job. Technically, there was no lab yet as it was still under construction, but she had been busy the last few days preparing for it anyway. There were orders to place, plans to approve, and employees to filter. She still wasn't sure what to do with her students, but she hoped that Marcus would allow them to come along.

Despite the fact that she wore a rather simple black, pants suit she felt sorely out of place. Everyone she passed in the halls were dressed immaculately. Even the man answering the phones had a hawkish look on his face and wore a freaking pocket square in his jacket.

She was given a temporary office to use. It was quite a bit smaller than the office she occupied at MSU, but it was near Consul DuBois' office. She didn't want to know what happened to the person that recently vacated it.

It was hours past dinner time when she finally packed up her stuff and got ready to leave.

Evelyn's sleep was restless, unsurprisingly. She dreamed of hawks swooping from the air, nipping at her. Not to mention that it took ages to fall to sleep anyway. She'd always prided herself on her ability to sleep any where and any time. Perhaps if she had someone to stroke her hair or hum softly, she may have lulled away quicker. Alas, her mind swam with a thousand thoughts. There were so many things to do. So many people to consider. Then, deep down, something nagged her heart, but unable to decipher the message, she ignored it.

FIrst and foremost, she was going to have to watch every nuance to her behavior, every flash of her eyes, and every word she said around Ascendancy. Nobody else could be allowed to know of their relationship. If it was revealed, it would undermine all her work. She would be dismissed as a silly girl, something she already battled being the youngest Congresswoman in history, and all her hard-earned authority would be wasted.

She rubbed the tired from her eyes, dressed and composed herself for their state breakfast. Sofia had already sent her a message asking what time they would meet to walk down together. Evie replied with a time, and inquired as to whether the Secretary of State would join them. No. He's already down there. She thought it odd, but if Sofia said nothing more on the matter, Evie wouldn't read any further into it until it was called for.

She and Sofia Castilla had a great relationship. The chairwoman of the committee, and ranking member as well, was a fellow democrat and threw the weight of her support behind Evelyn's appointment to this otherwise prestigious and hard-earned committee spot. They spent a great deal of time strategizing together over the specific deals they sought to reach with Ascendancy. Some of them were quite practical, but most were efforts in name only. Evie wasn't so girlish and innocent as to think the CCD hadn't utilized power in foreign affairs. For one thing, that blasted video of Commander Vellas in Dominance V proved her exact theory, but neither was she foolish enough to believe US covert operations were completely free of powers. But if the two countries to put to paper (figuratively) their mutual agreement to withhold channelers from combat operations, it would be a start. One of the problems brought up by Evelyn to accomplishing this altruistic goal was that just because the US and CCD agreed to withhold channelers from military operations, other nations were not so easily agreeable. Africa, for one, was rumored to harbor channelers in battle. Nothing so large as to attract large-scale media attentions, but the rumors existed. Similar word drifted out of Mexico as well. Even though she forewarned Sofia, the Secretary of State, and even Secretary Trano of these dangers, she also admitted that as the world's two largest super powers, the CCD and USA could set the example and even demand that worldly authorities follow in their stead. Enforcement would be difficult, true, but they had to try.

Thoughts of Africa certainly conjured memories of the night before. Ascendancy promised a ball to benefit the continent in her honor. He'd taken her hands and begged her to keep him to his word so that every dollar could aid the needy. Evie blushed momentarily, then frowned and dabbed extra powder to her cheeks to cover the rosy hue. Using the power for the greater good would be the more worthy calling for both nations. Two or three skilled channelers could replace heavy, dangerous labor, which would cut costs and save on insurance premiums. Teachers could identify children before they became sick and died from the channeling sickness. So on and so forth.

Of course, this was all a moot point if the USA joined the Custody. Maybe it really was inevitable. There was an entire faction of democrats who thought just as much. They claimed that the US and other countries were living in antiquity, clinging to individual currencies and flags when the clear, economic, and social benefit was derived from one world government, one world currency, and one world leader. Would war not cease to exist if the boundaries of nations dissolved and all were one? In fact, except for one minor uprising last year, an unprecedented time of peace overtook the middle east. Evelyn practically gawked at the transformation in that part of the world. Criminal powers in the Asian subcontinent were rooted out. The lack of competition between nations made trade all the freer. It did make sense. Ascendancy ruled for more than twenty years and had certainly proven himself time and time again. Yes, there were allegations of some human rights violations and abuse of power, but Evelyn would not pin those on Nikolai himself. Maybe somewhere in the middling levels of government where oversight was thinned the allegations may be true. But no where was perfect. Such controversies were rampant throughout DC as well. Evelyn was not involved in any personally, but she had eyes and ears. Things went unspoken. It just meant there was an area to improve.

Her mind was more settled by the time she sent Sofia her message that she was ready. The Senator knocked on her door a few minutes later.
"Good morning, Sofia,"
Evelyn began. Her voice trailed off when Sofia entered her room, closed the door behind her, and turned with one penetrating accusation.

"Traitor."


Evelyn blinked, speechless.

Edited by Evelyn, Jan 1 2018, 09:41 PM.

Scion Marveet
PPC


Scion was occupied with financial spreadsheets when he decided to call the numbers set and wet his throat. His office was complete with a wet bar, but he passed on the vodka in lieu of a bottle of water. His doctor insisted on more of the stuff every day, or else he would be subject to a fucking battery of tests that made him feel like a lab rat.

Sparkling water bubbling away in a crystal glass, Scion held it up to the light in order to admire the quality. Vena gave him the set of goblets. They were Baccarat Crystal and exquisitly made. She was a good girl (in the worst sorts of ways), that knew just when to stroke his ego and when to back down. She might actually stick around a while.

A government announcement overtook his screen. When Scion saw it came from the executive office of the Ascendancy, he quickly maximized the view and listened to the script. The news of a ball was intriguing. He absolutely had to be in attendance. There was simply no other option. If only that old goat Valentin Sulteev would finally die, or even retire, his seat on the Sphere would finally open. Scion had every intention of taking it for himself.

Ascendancy would show off his channeling. Scion scrubbed his chin thoughtfully. This whole ordeal with channeling was certainly a whole new angle. How to play it?

Of course, he did have a child that could channel. He selected a call command on his desk. To the face that appeared once the connection was made, "Bring my son Jaxen to me."

Dorian's wallet rang and he pulled it groggily from the side table and glanced at the number. The ID said 'Emilio Vega' and he sat up straight. "What happened to mother?"
he asked frantically. His father never called him, and definitely not at whatever time it was.

Dorian sighed as he looked at the time. It was later than he had expected but still his father never called him.

"Son you are still in bed?"

"Late night."
Every night had been a late night since the Ascendancy had revealed gods to the world. And not all of them were cop related.

"But nothing is wrong with your mother, other than disappointment I'm sending Cruz to the Ascendancy's fundraiser for Africa."

"What? He can't go."


"He can. And he will. He is my representative in Moscow. He will go. Or has something changed and you wish to attend in his lieu as my successor."

Dorian sighed. That might almost be more preferable then letting Cruz out of the house. "How many tickets did you buy?"


"Two, I want him to go with someone of stature Dorian."

"No. He will go with me or another capable person to defend him, Father. Moscow is not the world you may think it is."


"Dorian..."

"No Father. You will listen to me on this. He's getting a bodyguard. Someone I trust with my son's life."


There was a heavy sigh on the other end. "But he will go!"

"As you wish."


"That is what I need. I will send Cruz the information he will need." And then Dorian's father hung up the phone. This was not going to go well. The Atharim were hunting Nox. Probably knew about Cruz and with Ascendancy in attendance what better place to take down a bunch of gods... This was going to end badly.

Now Dorian just had to find Cruz and tell him. And Nox too. "I'm sure both boys are going to love this."
Dorian said as he stepped into his bathroom to grab a shower.

For immediate release:


The Central Custody of Dominion has announced a ball to be held this Saturday evening with tickets limited to 300 head. The Ascendancy will host with full powers of channeling for all to experience up close. The affair is white-tie at a cost of $10 Million (CCD) per ticket. Tickets go on sale Thursday at 1200 hours.

<small>Funds will benefit African aid.</small>

Her calm was gone. The place she'd saught to find peace gone forever. It hadn't mattered when he fled to Mexico, he was still there, still in this world. Now she'd never feel that unique calm even when he was excited about things he was calm.

Nox had pulled her from her dwelling - the darkness that had started to take over. He carried her over his shoulder like a child. Aria hated him in that moment. Hated the man he was. Hated he wasn't sad at her loss. Hated that he was a god. Hated that he was Atharim. She beat at his back and tried to press him with her emotions but they had worked hard to defeat that chance. Her manipulating him.

He was empty of everything as the fires around them burned. Dane burned. The girl burned. the building had burned around them and Nox walked through fire like a phoenix rising. Her hatred for him and what he represented made her cringe inside. And when he set her down Aria could have killed him then. But he was holding the power. He'd stop her - kill her. He'd break her in half before she could pull the trigger or sheath her sword in the soft center of his chest.

Instead Aria jerked away and ran. Ran as fast as she could away from him. Away with her fury and her hatred. The Atharim would pay. Gods would pay. The world would burn for their folley.

Alex was glad Ivan was finally coming to his senses. Both Atharim were dangerous. It didn't matter if one was a cop he had just proven he was Atharim before cop any day of the week. Alex had the right mind to call in the LT and have them both arrested as sympathizers to the killing of human beings. She was sure there was something that would link them back to the Atharim.

Alex left with Ivan grateful to be away from them, the boy's display of power had been unnerving. The shattered glass in the plaster made her shiver, imagine what breathing it in would have done. Or the pain those tiny glass shards would have caused.

But outside Alex felt like a new person away from the clausterphobia of the Ascendant power - these channelers were everywhere.

Alex laughed at Ivan's good ole boy charm his naivety to the situation. "Idealism is great. But they are Atharim. Stone cold killers."


Alex nodded to his request to walk him home, adding "You aren't some dumb kid."
She opened the door and slid into the leather seat and waited for Ivan to buckle in.

"I can't believe you let a confessed murderer walk free Ivan. He killed that man. There is no forensic data to prove him correct. Why do you trust him? For that matter what do you plan on doing to find the man who murdered those kids?"

Almost 4 years exactly. That was a pretty good run for a PC if I do say so myself.

R.I.P. Dane Raphiel Gregory

Go enjoy that great piano in the sky, buddy.

[[Continued from Birth]]

Armande stepped into the room. It was quiet. The moisture in the air had all but dissipated. The strong scent of soap and shampoo still lingered, though. He felt a stirring at that. He wanted to be clean. But first Valeriya.

She was curled up on the floor of the room in a corner, wrapped in a warm blanket. He quirked a smile at that. She had foregone the bed. Her deep even breathing said she was lost in sleep. Almost he woke her, to help her into the bed. But instead he stayed his hand. The pallets of the Khylsty were harder than the carpeted floor of this room. And she looked so peaceful in her slumber. He walked over to her and squatted down, studying her quiet repose in the shadows.

Her sharp and beautiful features were softened, bathed in darkness. Her hair appeared damp and it took him a moment to realize she had removed the carved ornaments. He smiled. She was no half hearted person. He felt a sense of protectiveness wash over him. He did not fight it. He did not reject it. He peacefully accepted it as part of him. He would not be half hearted either.

It was an indication of how tired she was that she did not stir when he leaned down and gently kissed her cheek and then made sure the blankets covered her adequately. He did not want to disturb her.

He closed the door of the adjacent bathroom quietly and then flipped on the light fan for the white noise. Carefully he peeled off his layers of clothing until he stood naked before the mirror. Scars and slashes, some decades old, others fresh, criss crossed his still muscled shoulders and chest, arms and torso. A sharp puckered trio of slashes ran down the left side of his ribs. The drainaka had been fast, part of a group. No man faced four of them without some injury. His armor had split at one point and the claw had ripped through, nearly putting paid to him.

Not fatal. Not yet. He still wore burns from the fire on one side of his neck and trapezius. The medication and treatment had helped, but the body took time to heal.

But his forearm....that was what hurt. Not physically. Not just physically. His orobouros, taken into his flesh decades ago was now torn and broken. The rock and rebar had scrapedhis flesh as Apollyon had dragged him in front of him. Barovsky....he smiled. His oldest friend, when his friends were more work partners than anything else. The man's last shot, before the traitor Aria killed him, had put the Destroyer down.

What a cost. But worth it. So worth it. Still, it hurt to see the once whole serpent now broken and torn. Sacrifice. Everything had its cost.

He looked at the counter and saw the carvings from Valeriya's hair, strands still gripping them. It must have hurt but she likely laughed as she tore them free. He smiled. Always a price. Still, after a moment, he scooped up the pile and wrapped them in tissue paper. He was not one for sentimentality. But somehow he didn't want to get rid of them. They went into his pouch for another time.

He got into the shower and felt the dirt and grime and smoke wash off him. An entire lifetime. He felt cleansed, reborn. When he emerged he was only wearing a towel. He got some spare travelling clothes.

He needed some sleep. He was tempted to curl up next to Valeriya but thought better of it. Not now. That would complicate things, especially if she woke. He exited the room and found a spare cot. Illarion appeared to still be awake because his head moved when he came out. He nodded at the boy and found a spare cot. Just before he went to sleep he did one more thing. He used encrypted communucation to get in touch with Theiss. The man responded only briefly. First and foremost, he told Regus to use anti-surveillance protocols. He understood. The death of Apollyon was not the end. It was possible his face was known. The man arranged for the supplies he wanted. The innoculations, antibiotics, first aid supplies. He also needed weapons. He still had what was in his pack, but that wpuld not be enough. Tjere was no telling what they might need. Travel supplies. Above all, he needed information. Strangely, Theiss was unforthcoming. Alarms went off in his mind.

He gave himself three hours. It would be around mid afternoon when he woke.

The time came and he was up. A few of the Khylsty had awakened. Briefly, he showed them the food, how it was to be eaten.

Finally, Armande told them he'd be back with instructions to stay inside. The three he'd taken to training nodded. They would keep everyone inside.

Slipping out the door, he took various roads and alleys to get to the rendezvous point. The old man wasn't there. But his aide was. Andrez. The truck he was in was small and old but everything fit in the bed, disguised as construction supplies. Just a contractor going to work.

Andrez too seemed reticent. "What is the problem, Andrez?" The man refused to meet his eye and Armande's suspicion grew. It was too public a place to kill him....maybe. Had Theiss betrayed him? White hot rage filled him at this thought

The man must have seen the death in his eyes. "No, sir! No! But have you....." He trailed off. He swallowed. "Have you watched the feeds?" He nooded at Armande's wallet. No. He hadn't. In hindsight, he should have. But he had been in a cocoon, from the night of the fire, up to and including his slipping out the door moments ago. Or perhaps a chrysalis. Foolish, in any event. He had been foolish.

He pulled his wallet, unsure what to look for. Andrez's voice was weak. "Search Ascendancy..."

Armande did so. And it seemed as if acid were burning his forearm. Anger boiled inside him. His voice was death. "Not a word. To anyone. Tell Theiss too."

He needed to think. For the first time he could remember in years, he was at a loss.