08-13-2018, 10:53 PM
The room fell to stillness. White globes of hundreds of eyes peering from below. From above, Nikolai searched from one to the next while the vision of his powers showed him their very souls. What he found transfixed among them all gave his own long-due rest. Finally! He was the god he was meant to be. They knew him for all that he was. More than Nikolai Brandon. The reason he was their Ascendancy. Eons denied his birthright, for this one moment, the universe began to repay the debt he was due. Naturally, his gaze fell to Evelyn, aglow with warm light, heavenly, pure. With her at his side, this room would be filled with peoples of the entire world soon. His patience would be rewarded. Decades to wait. A lifetime. An age. Finally.
Jacques agreed upon the condition to speak. Publicly, he had to announce his alliance with the Ascendancy. That together they would do great things for the world. Their partnership was a benefit to all. Nik found himself watching the man's profile eagerly. Say it. A silent urgency tipped his expression when the man glanced.
A chill trailed the back of his neck. Nikolai tore his gaze from Jacques, turning sharply left and right, seeking. But there was nothing to see. The Nine Rods of Dominion were diminished to six now, waiting on the edges of the ballroom but nonreactive. They didn't sense it. Nik forced himself to focus on Jacques' speech, instead. Imagination, he told himself, and listened. The man was a natural orator, with a charming and easy smile. Talented, Nikolai noted, for the man's delivery was bedeviling. He sold the alliance smoothly. Like the most natural thing in the world. Indeed it was. Nikolai was proud.
His smile returned while the guests clapped, but a warning seized his heart. His clapping slowed, dropping its vigor while others continued the zeal.
He slipped a step lower. Staring at the back of the wall, drawing more of the power like it may give him the eyes to see what whispered in his ear.
Then he heard it. The claw scratching in the mind.
Aidoneus, I come for you.
Nikolai's scream pelted the walls with terror.
Red flickered like the hounds of Hades a bare heartbeat before his eyes. He tried to release the power. To throw it from his grasp, but it was too late. White drenched the world.
The body dissipated. It was only the soul left behind. Then the shell of even a soul was gone. Only light remained. Pure, blazing light worse than the sun; worse than ten thousand suns. He pressed his palms to the floor, unaware of collapsing. A husk. Tears leaked. He screamed, but the barest plea emerged, "Not again. Not again." The tormenter didn't listen.
Time stretched to nothingness. Infinite nothingness. There was only power. A spire to cosmos untouched. He yearned to do something with the power. To wield it. Though the final moments would tear him apart. The mist buffered it. Kept the threads of him bound together, but he ached with desire. To use it. To wield it. This glorious, celestial power.
Until words fought through the torrent. A message of lies made his ears want to bleed. He was no pawn! Hatred churned somewhere far and indefinite. His grip on the floor turned to fists. This empire was built by him. The skeleton within writhed with the barest movement; sheer torture in the contortion, but hatred fueled the determination. With it, he screamed one last word of defiance at this filthy monster of hell. "GET IT OFF OF ME!"
Jacques agreed upon the condition to speak. Publicly, he had to announce his alliance with the Ascendancy. That together they would do great things for the world. Their partnership was a benefit to all. Nik found himself watching the man's profile eagerly. Say it. A silent urgency tipped his expression when the man glanced.
A chill trailed the back of his neck. Nikolai tore his gaze from Jacques, turning sharply left and right, seeking. But there was nothing to see. The Nine Rods of Dominion were diminished to six now, waiting on the edges of the ballroom but nonreactive. They didn't sense it. Nik forced himself to focus on Jacques' speech, instead. Imagination, he told himself, and listened. The man was a natural orator, with a charming and easy smile. Talented, Nikolai noted, for the man's delivery was bedeviling. He sold the alliance smoothly. Like the most natural thing in the world. Indeed it was. Nikolai was proud.
His smile returned while the guests clapped, but a warning seized his heart. His clapping slowed, dropping its vigor while others continued the zeal.
He slipped a step lower. Staring at the back of the wall, drawing more of the power like it may give him the eyes to see what whispered in his ear.
Then he heard it. The claw scratching in the mind.
Aidoneus, I come for you.
Nikolai's scream pelted the walls with terror.
Red flickered like the hounds of Hades a bare heartbeat before his eyes. He tried to release the power. To throw it from his grasp, but it was too late. White drenched the world.
The body dissipated. It was only the soul left behind. Then the shell of even a soul was gone. Only light remained. Pure, blazing light worse than the sun; worse than ten thousand suns. He pressed his palms to the floor, unaware of collapsing. A husk. Tears leaked. He screamed, but the barest plea emerged, "Not again. Not again." The tormenter didn't listen.
Time stretched to nothingness. Infinite nothingness. There was only power. A spire to cosmos untouched. He yearned to do something with the power. To wield it. Though the final moments would tear him apart. The mist buffered it. Kept the threads of him bound together, but he ached with desire. To use it. To wield it. This glorious, celestial power.
Until words fought through the torrent. A message of lies made his ears want to bleed. He was no pawn! Hatred churned somewhere far and indefinite. His grip on the floor turned to fists. This empire was built by him. The skeleton within writhed with the barest movement; sheer torture in the contortion, but hatred fueled the determination. With it, he screamed one last word of defiance at this filthy monster of hell. "GET IT OFF OF ME!"
Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age.
Matthew 13: 40