Valiant: The Covenant Chronicles

[Covenant #38: The Torching of Tirsigal]

Log Date: [1/16/12765]

Data Sources: Jayta Jaskolka, Raikaron Syntaritov

Event Log: Raikaron Syntaritov

The Dreaming

I dreamt of a world aflame.

I stand upon a flight of stairs leading up a hill, in the fading evening of a world I do not recognize. The stars glitter in the darkening sky overhead; the warmth is that of a summer night, far removed from the chill that currently grips Sjelefengsel. It is the final night for every living thing upon this world, and I have been called to witness it.

Standing on stairs ahead of me is a young woman with long, ebony hair, attired in an armored coat with crimson highlights that are the same hue as her irises. She is half-turned to me, showing a tight, formfitting top cut off at the midriff, and pants tucked into knee-high boots, laced and tightened with the rigor and discipline of a warrior. One arm has been lofted and offered to me, the open hand stained with the memory of blood. An invitation.

Come, and witness the reclamation of a world I once called home.

Movement at the top of the meandering stairs draws my gaze from her hand; I look up, and for a brief moment, see an outline disappearing over the crest of the hill. Nine tails, outlined by the light of the setting sun coming over the hilltop — and then it is gone from view. I return my gaze down to the woman and her bloodstained hand, and the words of Trinity suddenly return to me. A story of blood; blood that is spilled, and blood that is shared.

Blood that is thicker than water, but flows just as freely.

“Raiko.” I murmur.

Raiko smiles at me, her hand lifted a little higher.

Come, grandson, and see my dream come to pass.

I take one step up the stairs, and then another, and another, until I reach her. And when I do, she places that hand upon my back, and we ascend the meandering stairs together, step by step, until we have reached the top. There, framed by the light of the setting sun, Azra stands staring out across foothills that smooth out into a valley, which itself levels out into the ocean that the sun is slowly sinking into.

This world was once ours. It belonged to the Ranters, and the vashaya’rei, and to me and my green-eyed love. It was the world where I met her, and also the world where I killed her.

I don’t hear the words so much as I feel them; Raiko isn’t speaking so much as she’s narrating. I can feel her thoughts and emotions, the latter of which is a wildly variable mix. Most dominant is nostalgia for a time and place that once was, but also pride, and joy, and sorrow, and regret. It’s not a single memory or emotion, but the culmination of the many; the emotions you feel when you are presented with a retrospective of your life.

This world, this place, was stolen from our people by the Collective after your great-grandmother and I had died, and while Azra was imprisoned in the Maelstrom. I watched, helpless, as everything Kyto and I had built, and everything we cherished, was laid to waste and consumed by the Collective. Our people spilled blood and fire to keep this world, and yet it was taken from them all the same. And then they too were taken by the Collective.

As we watch, Azra draws a katana from her side, the blade crimson and clear as glass, and takes it in both hands. She tilts it downwards, and in so doing, the blade assumes a different form, morphing into two-edged straightblade with a crossguard. Holding it before herself, she jams it down into the earth between her bare feet, a fiery brilliance lancing down through the blade’s core and into the earth. Rivening fissures hiss away from blade, molten light seeping out of the cracks as they start to spread across the hilltop and across the surrounding terrain.

I do not pretend that this will bring back the assimilated. That it will undo the nine hundred years that this planet has lost to Collective occupation. I do not pretend that any of the individual Symbiotes on this world deserve what is about to come, and I do not pretend that they should suffer for the sins of their forefathers so many centuries ago. Yet I eagerly watch all the same, because the Collective must be punished for what they did.

Shifting her hands to rest on the crossguard, Azra uses the leverage to shove the blade even further into the ground. The fissures spreading away from the hill grow even larger, and a rumbling has started; the ocean begins to glow from beneath as the fissures race right through the beaches and straight into the water. The mountain behind us has started to split, and Azra’s tails have started to brighten as she takes her hands off the sword.

It is time that we reclaim what was taken from us.

Without warning, Azra throws her head back and her arms out, howling at the sky in an old language. Despite the harshness of the tongue, I can recognize the beginnings of a chant, the tonal undulations of a song being belted out with raw, primal force.

“Raeh nu khu,

Raaq nu khu om zwena!

Xoja na zoha

Brab mi ima kem bena!”

And the heavens answer, a column of blazing heat and power hammering down from on high.

It slams into the hilltop, flattening it and blasting down all the surrounding trees and vegetation; but Azra stands in the midst of that raging column, arms still out and mouth hung open in a crazed smile. Soaking in the devastating power being poured out upon this world, reveling in it as the consuming blaze ignites the landscape for miles and miles in every direction, singing out the destruction of this world in the ancient tongue of the universe. Her tails, which have been whipping about in the fiery maelstrom, start to expand and split off into spectral foxes, composed of fire and standing hundreds, and then thousands of feet tall.

As they pull away from her, Azra holds a hand forth, and they dive into the cracked earth, shattering tectonic plates. Every time they do, other fissures to bubble and overflow with magma, spilling out across the surface of the planet like a hellish orange ocean. Plumes of lava roil up from the wracked earth as Azra’s manifestations swim through the mantle like it’s water, surfacing every now and then with titanic eruptions as they rear their heads up from the depths of the planet. Towns are drowned in a flood of liquid fire in a matter of seconds; cities are erased by walls of pyroclastic destruction, or folded into the earth by the shattering of tectonic plates.

And beside me, Raiko watches with one hand on my shoulder, the volcanic cataclysm reflected in her crimson eyes as she smiles.

I dreamt of a world aflame…

And my dream has come to pass.

Event Log: Jayta Jaskolka

The House of Regret: Raikaron’s Room

3:02am SGT

“Jayta, wake up.”

The voice breaks into my dreams, accompanied by the feeling of someone gently shaking my shoulder. Rather than opening my eyes right away, I squeeze them shut even more, curling up beneath the blankets.

“Jayta, you need to wake up, right now. We have received a summons.”

I wrinkle my nose, and reluctantly open my eyes, looking around. Everything’s blurry, and I have to rub my eyes to clear them, but Danya comes into focus, kneeling on the edge of Raikaron’s bed in her nightrobe. The bed itself is a giant, circular mattress, recessed into the floor; ostensibly made to accommodate Raikaron’s eldritch form. “Danya? Why are you in here…” I mumble sleepily.

“A grave matter has arisen. You need to wake up, get a shower, and get dressed.” she says, starting to stand up now that I’m awake. “And do so quickly. There is great urgency in this summons.”

I grimace, bracing myself upon my arm and looking around as I tug the blankets up to keep myself covered. Raikaron and I had gone to bed together, but it looks like he’s not in the bed anymore. “Where’s Raikaron?”

“He is downstairs, which is where we need to be, as expediently as possible. C’mon, up. To the shower.” Danya says, starting to dig through the closet.

“What time is it?” I mutter, grabbing my phone and checking the screen. “Oh, hell’s bells, Danya, it’s three in the morning. What in the good goddamn is so important that we have to get up before the asscrack of dawn?”

Danya turns around, walking back over and kneeling at the edge of the bed. The expression on her face is solemn and unsparing. “Lucifer is downstairs. She has come to collect us and answer the summons.”

I blink a couple times. “Lucifer? The, the, the— one of the Sovereigns of Sjelefengsel? That Lucifer?”

“Yes, Jayta. That Lucifer.”

“Wh— whuh, why is she here?” I stutter, starting to wake up faster now.

“It is…” Danya begins, faltering. “There has been a…” She trails off, taking a deep breath before starting to stand up. “You will find out when we go downstairs. For now, shower, then clothes. We have been called to a formal assembly of the Gathering, on a dire matter, so while you are showering, I will find you an appropriate outfit for the occasion. Make it as quick as you can — we do not want to keep Lucifer and the other hypernaturals waiting.”

It takes a second for those words to click as Danya heads back to the closet to continue rooting through it. “Wait, other hyper…naturals? Do you mean the other Sovereigns? Sheol and Lilith?”

“No, Jayta.” Danya says, only briefly answering over her shoulder. “This is a matter that is bigger than Sjelefengsel. Other gods are getting involved.”

Those words send a shiver down my back. I’d heard countless times about how Sjelefengsel was one of the oldest and biggest of the hells. If this was bigger than Sjelefengsel, to the point where gods from other heavens and hells were getting involved, then it must be something major, and incredibly serious.

“Okay. Okay, shower, got it.” I say, slipping out from beneath the covers, grabbing my robe, and slipping into it as I wobble over to the bathroom. I want to ask more questions, but it’s clear that Danya’s already pretty hesitant with her answers, and it doesn’t feel like she’s trying to hide something — her reticence feels like product of uncertainty, like she’s not sure what to say because even she may not fully have a grip on the situation.

Once I’ve closed the door to the bathroom, I’m quick to get the shower started, and I slip into it as soon as the water’s warm. I still feel a little groggy; while my mind knows that something serious is happening, my body is still trying to catch up, since it was roused in the middle of a deep sleep cycle. But the shower helps fully wake me up, and after washing up as quickly as I can, I step back out, toweling off while trying to rush my hair to dry with my heat chainlink. Coming back out into Raikaron’s room in my bathroom, I see that Danya has lined up a few outfits for me to pick from.

“Could’ve been faster, but I’ll take what I can get.” Danya says tersely, finishing with hanging a dark cloak beside the other outfits. “I must go get dressed myself. Take your pick of the outfits; remember that we have been called for a somber occasion, and we need to respect the gravity of this summons. To that end, the outfits I’ve picked have dark or muted colors. I will be back once I have dressed; you are not to go downstairs until I have returned. Is that understood?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll get dressed.” I say, moving over to the part of the closet with the outfits she’s selected.

“Good. Be swift about it.” she says, turning and heading for the door. Once she’s gone, I check through the outfits she’s picked for me, and settle on one that has a black, longsleeved shirt with layered folds, a dark red sash about the waist, and black pants. After getting into it, I return to the matter of trying to dry my hair so it doesn’t leave damp stains on the shirt — not that you’d notice with the dark fabric, but still.

Danya returns just as I’m trying to curl the ends of my hair around my fingers with the heat chainlink, and she’s dressed in what looks like an upgraded version of her usual pinstripe suit. Instead of a tie, there’s brooch at the neck of her collar, holding together the corners of a short cape draped around her shoulders, and the shirt beneath has some fancy ruffles to it. I’m expecting her to scold me for taking so long, but she just comes over and starts helping me put slight curls in the rest of my hair. “Once your hair’s done, we’ll get your cloak on and head downstairs. Remember to mind your tongue in front of Lucifer — when we saw her during the Congress, she was very casual and nonchalant. That is not presently the case — she has been given a serious matter to deal with, and her mood and demeanor are reflecting accordingly.”

“Oh. Okay.” I say quietly. “Are we in trouble?”

“Not as such, no. There is trouble, though, and we were present when it began.” Danya says, working her way around my head. “As such, we are being called as witnesses, and that is why we are going — to provide our account of an event.”

“An event?” I repeat, my mind darting to try and figure out what we may have been involved in that we’d be called as witnesses for a court. “We haven’t really… wait, are they wanting us to report what happened in the Maelstrom? With Azra?”

“That is part of it, yes.” Danya says, heading over to snag the dark cloak off the hangar and bring it over to me, furling it around my shoulders and securing it at the front. “Before you ask, your brother is fine — nothing has happened to him. This summons is exclusively in the context of Azra’s recent actions.”

“Recent actions?” I repeat again, starting to get the sense that Danya is deliberately tiptoeing around the edge of what must be a pretty big topic. “What did she do? What has she done?”

Danya purses her lips; it’s clear she knows something, but for whatever reason, she doesn’t want to tell it to me herself. “You will find out when we go downstairs. Come — we should not keep one of the Queens of Hell waiting.” With that, she heads for the door, motioning me along.

I follow after her, pulling the edges of the cloak closed about me. The halls of the House are quiet; since it’s three in the morning, no one is awake and roaming around. I try to keep my steps on the stairs as quiet as possible, to avoid waking the harpies, and upon arriving on the bottom floor, we walk along the curve of the first floor hallway until we reach the hosting room. There’s a big demon posted outside, dressed in the uniform that signifies service to the Ninth Circle, though he lets us in once he sees us. Within, Raikaron is sitting in one of the armchairs, while Lucifer paces near the island counter, dressed in a black suit with gold filigree on the cuffs and collar, and a champagne-hued tie. Other large demons are posted around the room in uniforms similar to the one worn by the demon outside — likely Lucifer’s personal retinue of bodyguards.

“You know that you won’t be able to deceive the Gazers when you give your accounting to them.” Luci says, tapping her fingernails against the marble countertop.

“I am aware. You know I am a Syntaritov; we do not tell lies or break promises.” Raikaron replies evenly.

“You may not tell lies, but you and your family often twist the truth. Bend it into different shapes.” Luci says sharply. “You cannot do that here, Raikaron. No games, no half truths. The Gazers will know if you had any awareness of what Azra was planning.”

“I am aware that they are able to know a person’s state of mind and the truths that go unspoken. They will find that while we had a general awareness that Azra was up to something, we did not know what it was, or the scale she was planning for it.” Raikaron says, noticing Danya and I have arrived, and nodding to us.

“I hope for your sake that is true.” Luci says, her crimson eyes likewise flitting to Danya and I. “These are the only two that accompanied you to the Maelstrom for the centennial?”

“Yes — there were no others with us.” Raikaron says, starting to gather himself and stand.

“Good. Let’s go.” Luci says, pushing off the counter. Danya picks up a cloak that had been folded over the back of the sofa and moves over to Raikaron, draping it around his shoulders like she’d done with me, and helping latch it around the front. “Initial proceedings are already getting underway at the Gathering. An assembly like this hasn’t been called since Eraser wiped out Halomorian over thirteen thousand years ago.”

The guards in the room begin moving towards the door as Raikaron, Lucifer, and Danya head in that direction. The pace that Lucifer sets is brisk and businesslike; it’s a much different version of her than the one that was shouting at her computer in the dark, or sprawled out across Raikaron’s lap during the Commencement. I’ve still got questions, but I keep quiet for now — the fact that we’re being escorted by a half a dozen beefy demons led by a terse little demon goddess is just a little intimidating.

“Since the damage is already done, we’re not going to bother with portaling straight to the Gaten. Putting a rush on it isn’t going to undo what Azra did, and I’d rather not waste the energy.” Luci says as one of her guards opens the front door for her. We follow her outside; while it’s technically night, we’re within Hautaholvi’s city limits, and the lights from the streets and buildings produce a steady, faint glow that keeps it from being fully dark. Parked on the House’s rocky lawn is a luxury cruiser, one that Lucifer’s marching straight towards. “We’ll take my cruiser. I don’t get to enjoy this thing as much as I’d like to, so I might as well take the opportunity while I have it.”

I’m unsure about whether I should speak up, but it’s hard to hold back my curiosity at this point. “What’s a Gaten?” I ask timidly.

“It’s… it’s, y’know, a Gaten.” Luci says, waving a hand over her shoulder. “The translation means ‘the street’ or ‘the road’. It’s something you travel along, it’s… y’know, a Gaten. Rai, you explain it to her.”

Raikaron raises an eyebrow as Lucifer starts up the stairs of her cruiser, then speaks aside to me as we start following her up into it. “Gatene are a network of… devices, I suppose you could say, created and maintained by hypernaturals, so they can move between worlds. An individual one of these devices is known as a Gaten, and these devices, when activated, can link to each other, transporting an individual or group from one Gaten to the other. This transport is instantaneous — there is no travel time.”

My brows furrow as I follow Rai up the stairs. “Seriously? That would revolutionize transport! A lot of other things too, come to think of it!”

“Gatene are not for mortals to use. They can only be activated and used by hypernaturals and deminaturals.” Danya says from the back. “Everything comes with a cost. Gatene usually draw on the core of a planet, or the host star, in order to power the bridging of the vast distances of the universe. If a Gaten is used too frequently, it can exhaust the core of the planet it is on, or accelerate the aging of the star it orbits around.”

“You’ll get to see what it’s like once we reach Morningstar.” Luci says as we step into the cruiser behind her. “For now, get your asses in a seat. I’ve gotta make a call to Lilith and Sheol and let them know that I’ll be leaving Sjelefengsel in an hour or two.”

“Whoa.” I say, looking around as I step in. I’ve only ever been on budget cruisers or passenger starliners before, where the seats are packed to the brim and the aisles are tiny. I’ve never been on a private cruiser before, and the difference is unbelievable. There’s plenty of head room, the seating is arranged in plush circles around tables, there’s open space to pace and stretch your legs, the walls are plated in some sort of black material, the windows are wide, instead of being tiny little squares… I could go on and on. This isn’t a cruiser; this is a flying palace.

“Come and sit down, Jayta.” Raikaron says, beckoning me to follow as the guards start retracting the embarkation ramp and closing the doors of the cruiser. I shuffle over to where he and Danya are sitting down around one of the tables near the wide windows, while Lucifer makes her way up the stairs to what must be the pilot cabin. Once she’s there, she shouts “Straight to Morningstar, make it express!” through the doorway, then marches back down the stairs, pulling out her phone as she paces towards the back of the cruiser.

“I wonder if the other Lords have been told.” Danya murmurs, watching as Lucifer starts dialing a number.

“So what’s going on?” I ask quietly, settling into the seat beside Raikaron as the cruiser starts to take off. “What did Azra do?”

Raikaron takes a deep breath, then turns to me. “Yesterday evening, Azra scorched Tirsigal. It is a world within Collective space which has a large population. The rest of the hypernatural community became aware of it when the souls of the dead started pouring into the heavens and hells in numbers that have not been seen since the Serenity War. Currently, the influx has inundated many of the most common heavens and hells, Sjelefengsel included. The Ferrymen — basically, the many incarnations of Death, those who escort souls to their designated afterlives — were caught off guard, and they are struggling to get all the dead souls to where they need to go.”

I blink at him. “How many… you said she scorched a world? How many people did she kill?”

Raikaron licks his lips, pressing them together before he answers. “All of them. Roughly seven and a half billion people.”

I can only stare at that, dumbfounded. “Seven and a half… billion?”

“Seven and a half billion, yes.”

“That’s…” I just can’t get my head around this. “You said she did this yesterday?”

“Yesterday evening. Less than twelve hours ago.”

“How can you kill seven and a half billion people in less than twelve hours?” I ask, still struggling to understand how this is even possible. “You’d have to… you couldn’t even do that with a full nuclear bombardment. Even for the Viralix, it takes them weeks to fully scorch a world.”

“Azra did it in fifteen minutes.” Danya says at this point. “That is why Tirsigal has no survivors, aside from those at the orbital starport and in the ships that may have been in orbit at the time. That is the power that a hypernatural wields. That is why our Lord did not try to stop her during her ritual at the centennial.”

“She didn’t just scorch the surface. Some of the Symbiotes would’ve survived that; Collective worlds often have extensive, deep tunnel networks where they can retreat in the event of an orbital bombardment.” Raikaron explains. “Instead, she disrupted the convection currents within Tirsigal’s mantle. Agitated the planet’s interior to the point that the crust shattered in hundreds of places, pouring millions of cubic miles of magma across the planet’s surface. The earthquakes would’ve been apocalyptic; the tunnel network would not have survived, and anything that was not killed by the earthquakes would’ve drowned in the spreading oceans of lava, or suffocated from the gases released by the mantle eruptions. Nobody on the planet would’ve had time to evacuate unless they were already at a planetside starport, in a cruiser that was ready to take off, at the time that the scorching began.”

I sit back in my chair, soaking it in. The totality of it, the horror of it. If you weren’t killed by the earthquakes, you’d be incinerated in the spreading flood of lava. If you somehow survived that, you’d suffocate from the gases. All in fifteen minutes or less. “But… why would she do this? Killing this many people…”

“Because it’s a Collective world, and if you ask some people, it’s about damn time we started taking back some of the worlds they’ve stolen from us.” Luci says as she returns from the back of the cruiser, typing out a message on her phone now that she’s done with her call. “Tirsigal used to be a Ranter colony world, before the Collective invaded and assimilated the planet and its population eight or nine centuries ago. Azra’s part of the Rantheon, so this is probably revenge for the Collective taking something that didn’t belong to them all those centuries ago.”

“I doubt the Collective will see it that way.” Raikaron says quietly.

“Who gives a shit about what the Collective thinks?” Luci says as she sends the text, scowling. “They’ve been doing this for millennia. Snatch a planet here, snatch a planet there, slowly spreading their territory and thinking we won’t notice because they wait decades between assimilating planets. It’s about time that someone gave them a taste of their own medicine.”

“So you’re on Azra’s side?” Raikaron says, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not saying that I approve of what she did. But I don’t disapprove, either.” Luci says, slouching in the fourth seat and snapping her fingers. One of the guards near the kitchenette opens the fridge, pulling out a chilled tray with champagne glasses and fizzwater cans, and brings it over to our table. “I won’t go out of my way to defend her, but if they bring a motion to put her on trial or punish her, I’ll vote against it. A message needs to be sent to the Collective, and I’m not just going to sit around and watch Myrrdicato end up like the Milky Way.”

I look to Raikaron, who explains. “The Milky Way is the galaxy that most of our ancestors emigrated from. The Collective ended up assimilating the whole of that galaxy after a war with the Shyl-tari that left it particularly devastated — the survivors of the modern-day races fled to Myrrdicato to start anew, while the most of the Collective stayed behind, taking advantage of the ruins and the power vacuum to consolidate their control of the Milky Way.”

“And they still control the whole damn thing to this day.” Luci grouses, taking one of the champagne glasses as the fizzwater’s poured into it. “But that’s old history. There’s no saving the Milky Way. Myrrdicato, on the other hand…”

“All of this is besides the point, is it not?” Danya says, taking a flute of fizzwater as it’s handed to her. “Whether this was deserved or not, the central fact is that a hypernatural used their power to massacre the population of an entire planet. It is a clear infraction of the Rules, and I imagine that is the angle that the Collective will take if a trial is permitted.”

“Rules? What rules?” I ask, taking one of the glasses offered to me.

It’s Luci’s turn to raise an eyebrow at Raikaron. “You haven’t taught her about the Rules?”

“In my defense, we do not run in the same circles that you do, your Majesty.” Raikaron says as he accepts his champagne flute. “Most of the individuals we deal with are not bound by the Rules. I myself barely fall within the lower boundaries of their jurisdiction.”

Luci blows a raspberry at that, slouching further in her seat. “Yeah, sure. Well, kid, since you don’t know, the Rules are a set of rules — surprising, I know — that hypernaturals have to follow, especially where it regards their interactions with mortals. And one of those Rules is that you cannot murder large groups of mortals without a good reason.”

Raikaron gives Luci the side-eye. “That does not quite capture the spirit of that Rule. One could argue that Azra does have a good reason for having done what she did.”

“Well if you’re such an expert on it, why don’t you explain it?” Luci retorts, sipping from her fizzwater.

“Certainly.” Raikaron says, glancing to me. “The Rule Lucifer is referring to is more along the lines of what could be considered an acceptable or justifiable exchange. Generally speaking, no hypernatural should be killing large groups of mortals in the first place. And if they are doing so, there needs to be a compelling justification for it — as a simple example, where killing a large group of people would preserve an even larger group of people. That would be considered a justifiable exchange, if the alternatives would result in even more people being killed.”

“So if it’s determined that the course of action is the one that saves the most lives and does the least harm, basically?” I ask.

“In essence, yes. That is the spirit of that Rule.” Raikaron says, sipping from his glass.

“Bear in mind that the posited hypothetical lacks the nuances of a real-life example.” Danya adds. “The situations to which that Rule applies are often far messier and uglier than a simple math equation, and have to take into account things such as culture, conflict, and the innocence or guilt of the lives involved. And just because one hypernatural may think they have a compelling justification does not mean other hypernaturals will agree.”

“And in Azra’s case, there’s just no defense for what she did, period.” Luci says, massaging her brow. “The Symbiotes on Tirsigal didn’t pose a threat to anyone. As far as I can tell, and as far as my sources have told me, Tirsigal was just minding its own business, doing what worlds controlled by the Collective usually do. They weren’t about to launch a fleet to go invade another system, they didn’t have anything nefarious planned. What Azra did was just spite and vengeance, pure and simple. Punishing the Collective for having assimilated a world that didn’t belong to them. I get why she did it, and I agree that the Collective deserves it, but there’s no legal defense for it. You can’t just do something like that.”

“Well, that didn’t seem to stop her.” Danya mutters into her champagne flute. “Because she just went and did it.”

“So what’s going to happen now?” I ask, leaning forward in my chair a little. “Is she going to be punished for it?”

“That is the question, isn't it?” Luci says, snapping her fingers again. The attending guard heads back over to the kitchenette, pulling open the fridge to grab a black box out of it while Luci goes on. “In most situations, the Gathering would come down on this like a meteor impact. But this didn’t happen in a void. Everyone knows why Azra did this. There are gonna be a lot of people that agree with why she did it, even if they may not agree with the action itself. There are going to be people that hopes this sends a message to the Collective. Personally, I think Azra will be punished for what she did — but the punishment won’t be nearly as severe as it would’ve been if she had torched a world that wasn’t controlled by the Collective.”

“I suppose the question the Gathering will be looking to answer is whether they will get involved and stop her themselves.” Raikaron says as the guard brings over the black box and sets it down, opening the lid. Inside, tucked into satin cushioning, is what appear to be mounds of silky chocolate. “And that will depend on what she is presently doing, or planning to do. Do we have any insight into that? I can’t imagine she would have the audacity to continue her rampage; that would basically force the Gathering to step in, and they would likely skip the trial and make an executive decision about punishment in that scenario.”

“I don’t have any insight into that, no. That’s why the Gathering summoned us, because they think that you three do, since you were present during her return to the mortal plane.” Luci says, reaching forward and pulling one of the chunks of chocolate out of the box. “If Azra knows what’s good for her, she’ll quit while she’s ahead. She’s gotten everybody’s attention and made her point, and if she leaves it at that, I think she’ll find that she’s got a lot of people that are sympathetic to what she’s done and why she did it. But if she tries to take it a step further, I think she’ll find people are less and less willing to back her.”

“And I suppose that leaves us dealing with a surge in souls once we return from giving our accounts to the Gathering.” Danya says, accepting one of the chocolate chunks as Raikaron passes it to her.

“Yes. Sjelefengsel’s expecting at least a couple million out of the billions that were killed.” Luci says as I take one of the chocolate chunks handed to me by Raikaron. “We don’t know the exact moral and religious composition of Tirsigal’s population, but Collective worlds tend to have much less crime and immorality than essentially every other society and species, and so they produce a lot fewer damned souls. Say what you will about the assimilation campaigns, but you can’t deny that they’ve figured out how to build societies that actually take care of their people, at least in every way that matters to the soul.”

“I do not envy the heavens their part in this. I expect most of the souls of Tirsigal will be going to a heaven, if they choose the afterlife at all — the sudden influx of souls we will be dealing with is probably nothing compared to what they will have to handle.” Raikaron remarks.

“The expectation is that the heavens are going to be absolutely clogged with souls for a while, yes.” Luci says. “I don’t envy them one bit, but we also have our own problems to take care of in the hells. Lilith is going to be coordinating with the Ferrymen and the other afterlives to help make sense of this mess, and try to speed up the processing of souls. Sheol will be holding down the fort here in Sjelefengsel, and ramping up our staffing at intake, registration, and sentencing. And I’m in charge of our diplomatic response to the crisis, and representing Sjelefengsel at the Gathering.”

I take a tentative bite of the chocolate chunk I’ve been handed, finding it’s more of a chocolate-covered… something. Whatever it is, it’s soft and flaky and semi-sweet underneath, with an odd, earthy smell to it. Noticing my perplexion, Lucifer tilts her head towards me. “Never had a moon truffle before?”

“Oh, is that what this is?” I say once I finish chewing. “The coven would forage for truffles in the forest, among other things, but that was part of our culture… moon truffles were a luxury item and we never had enough money for those. Not even sure it was something you’d be able to buy in Falcon’s Crossing.”

“Yeah, these are the good stuff. S-grade moon truffles cultivated on a moon that only has a quarter of the standard gravity, so they’re less dense and have these nice, flaky layers that are easy to infuse with a sweet oil.” Luci says, holding up her truffle to consider it. “After that, they’re robed in chocolate and then best served chilled. Lilith loves them, always keeps some stocked on the cruiser. She’s gonna be so pissed when she finds out I ate them.”

I freeze in the middle of taking my next bite. “Wait, should we be…”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Luci says, waving a hand. “The only person that’ll be getting in trouble for this is me. I like to tug on her tail every now and then. I think we’ll eat all but one of the truffles, leave her with a single one just to really rub her nose in it. She’s cute when she’s mad.” At that point, her phone buzzes, and she picks it up to check it. “Speak of the devil. I need to take this call; help yourselves, just make sure there’s one left over.”
With that, she stands, answering her phone as she starts walking to the back of the cruiser again. In her absence, I look to Raikaron again — there’s much I want to say, and much I want to ask. Between the Congress, the Old City, and Azra’s centennial, I thought I’d seen it all, and had a grasp on the affairs of gods, having met so many of them. But now I was realizing that I had only scratched the surface — this was a world that operated at a scale and power that was almost incomprehensible. And the individuals within it could wipe out billions of lives at will, in as much time as it would take to throw together a quick dinner.

Raikaron can perhaps read that in my eyes, or perhaps sense how small I feel, because he offers me an apologetic smile. “This may be the closest thing we get to a breakfast before we arrive to the Gathering.” he says, holding up his half-eaten truffle. “And it might very well be the most pleasant part of the next twenty-four hours, so we may as well make the most of it. Cheers.”

He offers his glass towards me, and I tilt mine to clink against his before he does the same with Danya, and Danya with me. There’s a feeling in the air that this is a grim toast, less a matter of celebration, and more resigning ourselves to what’s to come. Looking down at the truffle in my hand, I can’t deny that it tasted good, and that it’s probably best that I take my fill now, while I can.

But I don’t feel hungry at all.

Event Log: Jayta Jaskolka

Morningstar: the Morningstar Volcano

5:37am SGT

“I was not aware that Sjelefengsel’s Gaten was located within the volcano itself.” Raikaron says as we walk across a stone bridge laid through the lake of lava simmering in the volcano’s mouth. “Not that it’s a bad thing. Quite scenic.”

“Well, Lilith, Sheol, and myself are the only ones that use it.” Luci says, leading at the front while the rest of us follow behind. She’s left all but two of her guards behind at the landing pad where we’d parked the cruiser on the edge of the volcano’s rim. “Plus, it’s a strategic placement; if we need to, we can sink the Gaten in the lava. We learned our lesson after the Shyl-tari made a house call during the Serenity War.”

“Understandable.” Raikaron says as we draw near to the raised stone island at the center of the lake. Stairs lead up to what, as best I can tell, is a flat, empty surface at the top. “Is there anything we should know before we find ourselves on the other side, amongst the divine?”

“Behave yourselves. Don’t piss anyone off. Everyone at the Gathering is gonna be a hypernatural, and most of them could atomize you if they squint at you too hard. It’s not a place where you want to make enemies.” Luci says, checking her phone, then points to Raikaron. “Do not advertise that you are a Syntaritov. Introduce yourself as the Lord of Regret, or the Blackthorn Demon, or literally anything but a Syntaritov. Your ancestor has been a thorn in almost everyone's side at some point in time.”

Raikaron smiles a little. “Someone has to keep the gods in check.”

“Well, we’ve had a nice, peaceful century while he’s been sealed in the Challenger Bastions, and a lot of the other hypernaturals have been enjoying it.” Luci says, starting to mount the rough stone stairs. “So don’t go bustin’ their bubbles. I don’t want to be catching the stink-eye the whole time I’m there.”

“So what is the Gathering, exactly?” I ask as Danya and I follow them up the stairs. “Is everybody there going to be a god or goddess of some sort?”

“The Gathering is… well, you are familiar with the Colloquium, are you not?” Danya answers.

“Yeah, it’s the galactic government in Myrrdicato. Most of the nations in the galaxies are a part of it.” I say.

“Correct. The Colloquium oversees the galaxy and generally sets rules of conduct and engagement for its member nations. It arbitrates conflicts and enforces the law for member nations.” Danya says. “The Gathering is like that, but for gods and goddesses.”

“Oh.” I say as we arrive to the flat portion of the island. “Okay, yeah. That makes a lot of sense.”

“Except membership in the Gathering isn’t optional.” Luci says as she strides across the flat stretch of ground. It looks like a massive slab of grey stone that’s strangely patterned — there’s several concentric rings inlaid into the ground around the edge, and then the main slab in the center has unfamiliar runes or symbols carved into it in circular patterns. “While most nations are a part of the Colloquium, you don’t have to be a part of the Colloquium if you don’t want to be. Not the case with the Gathering. The moment you become a hypernatural, you are a member of the Gathering, whether you like it or not — and you’re subject to all the Rules and laws that members of the Gathering are expected to follow.”

“For obvious reasons, since the damage hypernaturals can do is substantial, and there needs to be some form of regulation and accountability for anyone with that much power.” Raikaron says as we join Lucifer at the center of the slab. “You could say that the Gathering exists precisely for dealing with the kind of situation that Azra has created.”

“If only it were that black and white, open and shut.” Luci says, stomping a foot down. Light flares through the markings on the slab, which starts to rise into the air, and so do the concentric stone rings that were inlaid into the ground around the slab as well. I quickly realize how thick and massive those circles are — each one dozens, perhaps a hundreds of tons of stone, starting to lift into the air and rotate around the floating slab, akin to the rings of a gyroscope. Like the slab we’re standing on, the rings have runes engraved onto them — glowing with harsh blue luminosity, and leaving behind trails of light in the air as the rings start to spin. “As I said earlier, none of this is occurring in a void. There will be politics at play, for better or worse. Just like some nations abuse the structure and legal arcana of the Colloquium, there are deities that do the same with the Gathering. And the Collective has a presence in both the Colloquium and the Gathering, to push their agenda among both mortals and gods alike.”

I snap my head towards her. “Wait, what? The Collective have someone in the Gathering? Does that mean… they have a god? I thought…”

“The Collective are unique, in that the Symbiotes that make up the Collective are of many different species, many different cultures, many different beliefs, and many worship different deities.” Raikaron explains. “But for all their differences, they are part of a greater whole, united by an overarching identity. E pluribus unum — out of many, one. So while the Collective do not worship any one god, their joint identity, their collective will, has a deific manifestation all its own. And its avatar is always the current Prime of the Collective.”

“It’s a weird arrangement. Not your traditional conception of a hypernatural.” Luci says as the rings rotating around the hovering slab slowly start to ramp up their speed. “Hypernaturals are usually the sentient manifestation of a concept or a belief system, but we are usually individuals unto ourselves. But the deific manifestation of the Collective’s will passes from avatar to avatar, from Prime to Prime. They become a conduit for the will of their entire species — on the surface, the Prime might look like an individual, but all of their individual desires or ambitions give way to executing the will of the Collective.”

“And their will is to spread, endlessly and relentlessly, until they have assimilated everything.” Danya says coldly. “Which is why they are so heavily disliked by mortals and immortals both.”

“At least they’re always polite about it.” Raikaron says.

“That’s why they’re polite about it.” Luci says tartly. “They know you’ll let your guard down, and then they take advantage of that later on down the line. You cannot trust the Collective — no matter what they say or what they do, they are always working towards the goal of assimilating everything, even if they have to take a long, roundabout way to get there. Even if they have to make concessions or temporary alliances, it is always in the service of eventually assimilating everything.”

“Let us hope that the other members of the Gathering remember that, for Azra’s sake.” Danya says as the rings spinning around us start to blur, a deep, resonant humming filling the air. “The castigation of the Gathering is nothing to shake a stick at. If the Collective convince the Gathering to punish her for what she’s done, then they will have succeeded in tricking the Gathering into weakening itself.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time the Gathering’s done something stupid and self-sabotaging.” Luci mutters, folding her hands behind her back and lifting her gaze slightly. The rings are moving so fast that they’re obscuring the volcanic lake surrounding us, the glowing runes forming a shell of blue light around us until it peaks. There’s a crackling boom, like a bass speaker blowing out, and the blue glow around us starts to fade while the rings begin to lose speed. As they do so, it becomes clear that we’re no longer in Sjelefengsel — beyond the rings, it appears that we’re in a large plaza, bordered by absolutely titanic buildings, all of it carved from what appears to be a pure, white stone.

“Oh wow.” I murmur, staring up at the towering buildings as the rings start to slow down, aligning horizontally with the pad as it starts to lower towards a raised portion of the plaza. The architecture is simple, symmetric, and geometric; no windows that I can tell, and the buildings themselves look like they’re hundreds of stories tall, rising up towards what appears to be a black sky. They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen before; I didn’t know you could make buildings this tall out of stone, though the exteriors don’t have any visible lines, as if the entire structure was carved out of an colossal chunk of stone. There’s a certain austere dignity to the geometry and angles of the buildings, as if they were aware of the gravity of the proceedings that took place within them.

“Alright, that’s Sjelefengsel, party of four!” someone calls as the stone pad and rings lower into their slots in the plaza. Looking down, I see there’s a guy standing at the edge of the Gaten, dressed in a red uniform, with flowing, crimson silks trailing off his shoulders. Whenever he moves, it seems to leave behind a faint, scarlet afterimage. “One hypernatural, one deminatural, two mortals.” He gives us a wave, motioning us off the platform. “C’mon, let’s move it along! You four aren’t the only ones arriving, there’s probably gonna be another group arriving right behind you.”

“Nice to see you too, Redshift.” Luci says drily, leading the way to the edge of the Gaten, and off the raised portion of the plaza. “Seems like you’re expediting things today. Is there anything else we need to do for the check-in?”

Redshift folds his glass slate under his arm as the rest of us join Luci. “Just make sure you’re proper for the assembly. Deminaturals and mortals don’t have to gussy up, but any attending hypernaturals need at least a partial manifestation of divinity so we can tell the adults apart from the kids. So halo, horns, aura, whatever is easiest for you; we just need to see some proof of divinity, and keep it visible while the assembly is in session.” He turns now to Raikaron, Danya, and myself. “These three are the ones that were present during Azra’s return to the mortal plane and are here to provide witness accounts, I assume?”

“They are here to answer those summons, yes.” Luci says. “Will they be reporting to Gryffin’s temple?”

“They will. Right over there, next to the Convocation.” Redshift says, pointing out a smaller building next to the largest one that borders the plaza’s perimeter. “Gryffin’s Gazers will take their accounts, and pass them along to the Gathering’s investigators so the information can be incorporated into evidence that the Gathering will be examining. Once they have given their accounts, they can return to Sjelefengsel, unless there is something in their account that would implicate them in Azra’s recent actions.”

“Do I need to escort them over there, or can they go on their own?” Luci asks, glancing between the Convocation building and the temple of Gryffin.

“Technically they can go on their own, if you’re not worried about leaving them unattended.” Redshift says, motioning one hand across the plaza. We’re not the only ones here; there are other people present, some moving between buildings, others crossing the plaza towards the Convocation building. Like Redshift, many of them show some sign of divinity, giving off a faint glow, or wearing celestial clothing, or having some visual effect that follows them around. “I wouldn’t be too worried about the deminatural, but we don’t get a lot of mortals here in the Gathering. Some of the hypernaturals might try to play with them if there’s no one around to supervise them.”

Luci wrinkles her nose up at that, looking at the Convocation building, then at Raikaron. “I can trust you to stay out of trouble, right?”

Raikaron inclines his head. “I will be discerning.”

“Good. Come find me in the Convocation once the Gazers are done with you.” she says, turning and heading for the Convocation. “If they don’t need the three of you for anything else after that, I’ll send you home so you can help Sheol with the flood of souls we’re about to receive.”

“Lucifer!” Redshift shouts after her. “Manifestation of divinity.”

Lucifer huffs, rolling her shoulders as the back of her jacket splits open, allowing numinous golden wings to flare through and settle, the same color as her hair. The tips and edges of her wings are black, though, as if scorched and burnt. “There. Happy now?”

“Make sure you keep them visible while you’re in the Convocation.” Redshift says, turning back to the Gaten as the slab and the rings start to rise out of the ground again. Though he’d barely acknowledged Raikaron, Danya, and myself in the first place, now it seems like he’s entirely forgotten we were here, more focused on receiving the next group that’s about to come through the Gaten.

“Best not to waste time.” Raikaron says, turning from the Gaten and motioning for Danya and I to follow along. “Come. Let’s go give our account to the Gazers. I doubt it will change much, but perhaps it will give the Gathering a fuller picture of what has happened, and the path Azra took to get where she is now.”

With that, he starts towards the temple beside the Convocation building, leaving Danya and I with little choice but to follow.

Event Log: Jayta Jaskolka

The Gathering: the Temple of Gryffin

6:52am SGT

“So Gryffin… isn’t the god of truth?”

“A common misconception. Gryffin is the wereckanan god of sight. While his most dedicated disciples take an oath never to lie about the things they have seen, it does not mean that Gryffin is the god of truth — just that truth is an important element within their belief system.”

Danya and I are sitting on one of the benches outside of the temple of Gryffin, waiting for the Gazers to finish with Raikaron. Giving our accounts hadn’t gone quite the way I’d expected — I thought we’d be taken into a room like you see in police shows, and asked to retell what happened at the centennial. What actually happened is that they took me into a room that was wide and well-lit, and asked me to stand in the middle of a seal carved into the floor. I’d done so, it lit up, and the next thing I remember, they were telling me they were done and I could step out of the seal. I hadn’t remembered anything from the process, but according to Danya, the Gazers had taken five or ten minutes to unfold and clone all the relevant memories that I had of Azra. It was a process that apparently required you to be in stasis while they did the memory cloning — an active, perceiving mind was prone to reevaluating and changing its perception of an event. That, and apparently copying pieces of a mind was like trying to pour a plaster cast of something — it was very difficult if that something kept moving around.

“Can Gryffin’s people always see the truth?” I ask, fiddling with the sash around my waist. With how quickly we’d left Sjelefengsel, I hadn’t brought anything to do, and I hadn’t known how long we’d be gone. If I’d known that this trip would take a good chunk of the day or more, then I would’ve brought a book or something.

“Depends. Those who serve as his angels are able to perceive when people are lying, at all times; it is a passive feature of their service to Gryffin. For his mortal followers, it is more of an active feature; they can do so for limited stretches of time, but it drains energy and leaves them exhausted if they do it for too long.” Danya answers, her eyes following a group of new arrivals as they step off the Gaten pad and are greeted by Redshift. “Gryffin and his disciples do not hold themselves to be the arbiters of truth; they only report facts, the actuality of things that happened. They leave the interpretation of those facts to others, and studiously avoid taking sides, one way or another.”

“Isn’t what they also do on the mortal plane?” I ask, racking my brain for what I know about Gazers. I’ve heard of them in passing, but never met one myself.

“It is. Sometimes imperfectly, but that is to be expected for the mortal following of any deity. All things considered, Gryffin’s mortal followers are far more disciplined and consistent than the worshippers of most other hypernaturals.” Danya says. Her rigorous stillness is in sharp contrast to my constant fidgeting, and I wonder how she manages to sit still with such ease. “They have a strong and strict ethical code, and they retain a clear vision of what their role in society is. For the most part, they stay in their lane, and abstain from politics and machinations. As a result, their institution is one that commands a fair amount of respect in the societies they are in.”

“I imagine they’re pretty useful in courtrooms.” I remark.

“For the societies that will accept the use of their talents in that area, they are. But that is typically only in the Ranter colonies — most Colloquium nations require more physical, provable methods for the determination of guilt and the detection of lies.” Danya says.

I could ask more about that, but it’s hard to pretend I’m interested in it. I’ve really just been trying to make small talk to keep myself occupied, and I don’t feel like I can avoid bringing up the obvious anymore. “…they’re taking an awful long time getting Raikaron’s account.”

“Lord Syntaritov has known Azra longer than either of us have, and maintains a friendship with her.” Danya says, almost like she’d expected this topic. “Our exposure to Azra is rather minimal by contrast. There was not much for the Gazers to extract when they were cloning our recollections of the centennial, but for Lord Syntaritov, there is likely substantially more material there. And if they find anything else of relevance leading up to Azra’s recent actions, then they will likely clone those recollections as well.”

“Let us hope that what they did find serves to exonerate us.”

Raikaron’s voice startles us, and we both look to the side to see him stepping back out of the temple, adjusting his cuffs as he does so. Both Danya and I shoot to our feet, though I move to him more quickly. “Are you okay? I was starting to get worried.”

“I am fine; the process is never a painful one. The Gazers here are very good at their jobs.” Raikaron answers, resting a hand on my shoulder. “We go now to the Convocation to report to Lucifer. She will likely order us to return to Sjelefengsel, unless there is a pressing reason for us to remain. There will be work aplenty for everyone, with the deluge of souls that are beginning to arrive to the afterlives.”

“We should go quickly, then.” Danya agrees. “Though I trust in Mek’s oversight of the House in our absence, he seemed nervous about being tasked with its care for more than a short period of time.”

“Understandable. Being tasked with the oversight of a House when you have rarely stepped beyond its library is a daunting responsibility.” Raikaron says, starting to walk in the direction of the Convocation building. “Have you seen any other hypernaturals arrive while waiting for the Gazers to finish with me?”

“Many have arrived since we’ve gotten here. I’ve not recognized some of them.” Danya says, keeping in step with Raikaron. “Most of the Rantheon gods have showed up in the last hour; I remember seeing Arcadia the Phoenix arrive with Heartsinger. Belanus and Ragathiel were quick behind them, and Valcalia arrived on her own.”

“None of the wereckanan deities?” Raikaron asks.

“I haven’t seen any of them arrive. I think they’re either already here, or they haven’t arrived yet.” Danya answers.

“Any Primordials?”

“I think I saw Kaleidoscope, though I’m not entirely sure. I’m not very familiar with her. Outside of that, I haven’t seen any Primordials show up. I did see Karma and Mother Nature arrive, though.”

“If you don’t mind me asking… like, how many gods are there…?” I speak up at this point. All these names are going over my head; I’ve never heard most of them.

Raikaron glances at me. “In this galaxy? Or are you asking for a universal number?”

“Uh… both?”

“Hmm.” Raikaron says, tilting his head up in thought. “I don’t have exact numbers. In this galaxy, probably anywhere between a thousand to a few thousand hypernaturals, I would guess. Across the entirety of the universe itself, I would guess maybe a few million. The number, of course, is always fluctuating — new gods rise, old gods fall; religions go in or out of style—”

“Look, Avvi. Someone brought mortals to the Gathering.”

The voice comes from off to the side; I look to see another pair moving towards the Convocation, and based on their trajectory, just recently arrived through the Gaten. It appears to be an androgynous person with white hair, wearing a white haori with redrimmed cuffs and silken pants; beside them is a tanned woman with blue hair and a yellow sundress. There’s something a little… off about them, though I can’t quite place it.

Raikaron slows to a stop, turning to face the pair. “Avvi! It is a pleasure to see you again.” he says, folding his hands behind his back. “A pity it had to be under these circumstances.”

The person in the white haori inclines their head towards us as they and their companion move in our direction. “Well met, cousin. I hope Sjelefengsel has been treating you well?”

“Let us say it has been treating me.” Raikaron says. “But seeing you — that’s a treat unto itself. I’m surprised you’ve been allowed off Avvikerene.”

“An exception was made for the circumstance.” Avvi says, turning their head towards the Convocation. Most of their hair has been trimmed to chin length, but there’s a single white braid left to drape over their shoulder. “I hear Azra Guile has kicked the hornet’s nest.”

“Yes, that she has.” Raikaron murmurs, looking that way as well. “I can only imagine this assembly will be a contentious one. I do not envy anyone that is required to attend it.”

“My, you have pretty little toys.” the woman in the sundress says, tilting her head to one side as she sizes up Danya and myself. She’s a little unsettling — she’s got ocean eyes without pupils, but it seems like she can see us all the same. “The tall one is a succubus? Lucky for her! But the little one, she is stuck in this body, isn’t she? We could help with that, if she would like—”

She reaches towards me, but Raikaron’s hand snaps out from behind his back in an instant, catching the woman’s hand at the wrist. “She does not require your services.” he says, and though his tone is polite, his voice is colder than the void of space.

The woman stares, then smiles. “Concerned that she might discover her appetite?” she asks, pulling her hand back. Raikaron releases it, albeit stiffly. “Though you might do well with discovering yours as well.”

“There is nothing wrong with appetite, though there is something to be said for moderation. Something which Avvikerene is not known for.” Raikaron says, returning his arm behind his back. “No offense intended, Avvi.”

Avvi shrugs. “I cannot say that you are wrong. But since there are others present, we ought to introduce them — this is Sundew, one of my daughters.”

“This is Danya, my lieutenant, and Jayta, my avenger.” Raikaron says, nodding to each of us in turn. “Our tenure here will likely be short; we were accompanying Lucifer, but the afterlives are about to receive a deluge of souls. It is likely we will be sent back to Sjelefengsel to help handle the surge.”

“Indeed. I do not envy the task that the heavens and hells will have before them.” Avvi says. “It’s a shame you can’t stay longer. The Gathering hosts many delights, and many delightful people.”

Raikaron chuckles at that. “Delights, certainly. Whether the people within it can be categorized as such is a matter of debate.” A bassy thump that ripples across the plaza draws his attention, and the rest of us look to see that a greatwolf has arrived in the plaza, black smoke curling off its dark fur in lazy, almost liquid swirls. The rider on its back has their hood pulled up over their head. “Speaking of which…”

“Who’s that?” I ask, watching as the wolf looks around. It doesn’t look like a normal greatwolf — the eyes are glowing a hazy green, leaving behind a smoky aftertrail.

“A member of the Nightwatch.” Avvi answers, watching as another two greatwolves arrive. Instead of coming through the Gaten, they seem to slam into existence out of thin air, as if they’d decelerated so hard that it creates a shockwave in the local area — the bassy thump that we hear whenever one of them appears. Each one arrives with strands of black smoke drifting off of them; it looks almost sticky, reminding me of the gauzy, weblike structures you see when you’re traveling through tunnelspace.

“Oi!” Redshift shouts, turning to the new arrivals. “Are you kidding me—”

He’s cut off by a loud THUD, the bass impact from this arrival hitting hard enough to make you take a step back. And it’s no surprise: the greatwolf that just arrived is colossal. Where the other greatwolves stand four or five feet at the shoulder, the one that just came through stands at least ten feet at the shoulder, and the rider on its back is terrifyingly familiar. My heart immediately palpitates, and I take a step closer to Raikaron.

“C’mon Witchling, seriously?” Redshift shouts, marching towards the Witchling and her retinue. “You know you have to use Gatene! You can’t just jump through witchspace and…”

The Witchling slowly turns her hooded head to him, and the riders of the smaller greatwolves all do the same in unison. Redshift’s words dry up, and his march falters.

“You know what? I don’t even care. Some battles are not worth fighting.” he says, putting his hands up and turning around, walking back towards the Gaten. “You wanna show up all fancy and special, be my guest. I’m just saying, it’s more efficient to use Gatene, and it’s what everybody else uses, and it’s not like we put an entire network of them across the entire goddamn universe specifically for this reason, but hey, you do you.”

“Mmm, yes.” Raikaron murmurs as the Witchling and the Nightwatch riders start to disembark from their steeds. “This assembly promises to be an interesting one, that much is clear. All the more reason we should get to our seats — I would hate to miss the action.”

“Indeed.” Avvi agrees, their eyes still on the Witchling. “We won’t keep you any longer. If I don’t see you again before the end of this assembly, then I wish you all the best, cousin. It seems you will need it, with what lies ahead of you.”

“The sentiment is appreciated, Avvi.” Raikaron says, inclining his head to them before he starts walking again, motioning myself and Danya to follow. We do so without hesitation, resuming our trek towards the entrance of the Convocation.

“Was that a relative of yours?” I ask once we’re out of earshot. “Are they a deity?”

“Not a direct relative, but we share blood and a common ancestor.” Raikaron answers, maintaining a steady pace towards the Convocation like he wants to avoid a potential run-in with the Witchling. “Like me, Avvi is a Syntaritov, though Avvi is older than me by a good margin, and Avvi’s path has diverged from the one usually taken by Syntaritovs. Those who trace their ancestry back to the Syntaritov lineage do not usually become gods — we prefer to be the ones that eat them.”

“What is Avvi a deity of?” I ask, looking back over my shoulder and seeing that Avvi and Sundew are talking with each other while watching Witchling and her retinue.

Raikaron takes a deep breath. “Well, strictly speaking, Avvi is a deity of… personal truth, I suppose you could say? They… oh, how do I put this… they are a deity that encourages the absolute expression of self.”

I furrow my brows at that. “The absolute expression of self? What does that mean?”

“It is something we can discuss later, in different environs.” Danya says as we reach the entrance of the Convocation. “For now, let us focus on reporting back to Lucifer.”

I’m still curious about it, but then we step into the Convocation, and I’m given much more to focus on. The halls within are massive, in keeping with the colossal scale of the building’s exterior, and as we make our way through the building, the reason for that becomes clear: hypernaturals come in all shapes and sizes. Most of them are humanoid-shaped and humanoid-sized, for the sake of convenience, I assume; but we do occasionally come across a divine polyhedral or a titanic voidbeast that clearly don’t care for the bipedal form. We usually skirt around those entities, giving them wide berth and a healthy respect.

It takes about five minutes for us to actually reach the assembly room, with how large the Convocation building is. When we do, we find ourselves stepping into what appears to be an absolutely titanic coliseum, with successive rings of booths running around the sides in ever-widening circles. Despite the size, the coliseum seems sparsely populated; there must be hundreds of thousands of booths in here, but only hundreds of hypernaturals to fill those booths.

“I thought there would be more people here.” I murmur to Raikaron as we step onto a platform near the entrance to the stadium.

“The assembly room is designed to host hundreds of thousands of hypernaturals, in case there’s ever a universal or multi-galactic crisis that requires the attendance of deities from multiple galaxies.” Raikaron explains as our platform lifts off the ground, starting to glide around the side of the stadium and rising as it goes. “But this is more of a local affair, so only hypernaturals from Myrrdicato would’ve received summons to this assembly. Hypernaturals in other galaxies generally don’t get involved in the affairs of galaxies that they don’t live in, or have followers in.”

“You mean there are crises bigger than this?” I ask incredulously.

“Rare, but they do happen.” Raikaron says. “The last major one was the Serenity War, when the Shyl-tari decided to have another go at taking over the universe. They almost succeeded in stripping everyone of free will so they could spread their utopia to every corner of the universe, but we managed to snatch victory from the jaws of fate. The Shyl-tari suffered a fairly categorical pounding afterwards, and there hasn't been another universal crisis since then, and likely won’t be another one for a few million years or more.”

I shake my head. “I just… I can’t even get my head around that.”

“It is a matter of relativity.” Danya says, fiddling with the cuffs of her suit. “We will likely never see another universal crisis in our lives, or in the lifetimes of many generations to follow us. But that does not detract from the severity of the crisis at hand. Azra’s actions may only affect our galaxy, but they are massively consequential nonetheless. The sudden execution of seven and a half billion individuals is a grave matter, and it will have an impact on our galaxy for decades to come. This will likely be the crisis of our generation — it would be very difficult to produce a catastrophe more grave than this one.”

The echo of an amplified voice gains our attention; there is a portion of the coliseum that juts out onto the floor a little ways like a sharp, narrow cliff. There is an area on the tip that houses what looks like a lectern or a podium built into the solid railing, with a few seats behind it, and there are a couple of hypernaturals in that spot. One of them, a man with wolven ears and a multilayered robe, has stood to the podium; as he speaks, a magnified projection of his image from the chest upwards appears over his area of the coliseum. “We mark that almost all members of the Rantheon are here, but the head of the Rantheon is still missing. Did he receive the summons?”

There’s no response for several seconds, though at length another magnified projection appears in another section of the stadium, this one of a woman with flaming hair. It appears that her booth is one in a row of booths filled with hypernaturals that have been deciding who on their row should answer. “Alt has received the summons, yes.” she replies.

“He is on his way, then?” the wolf-eared god asks.

“He is currently sleeping.” the flame-haired goddess replies.

“…sleeping.”

“Yes.”

“Did you try to wake him up?”

“We did, yes.”

“And you weren’t able to?”

“He woke up and we explained the situation to him, and he told us he was confident that we could handle it, patted us on the head, and went back to sleep.”

The wolf-eared god turns to look at the goddess in the seats behind him, who makes a motion with her hand to proceed. He turns back around with that. “Very well. We will mark him as not attending. Thank you for letting us know.”

“Jayta.” Danya says. I look around and see that our platform’s come to a stop at the booth where Lucifer is, and Raikaron has already stepped down into the booth. I hurry after them, and once I leave the platform, it starts gliding back down the side of the stadium to the main entrance.

“Have we missed anything?” Raikaron asks as the booth morphs more seats to accommodate us.

“The usual trifles.” Luci replies from where she’s flicking through a report in the air before her. “Taking attendance, determining whether immediate hypernatural intervention is needed, making decisions about whose attendance is mandatory, so on and so forth. The Prime of the Collective already raised a motion for immediate intervention and it was voted down, so it seems like the hypernaturals that are currently present don’t believe that Azra poses an immediate threat to any other worlds at the moment.”

“That’s a good sign. For Azra, at least.” Raikaron says as I settle in beside him.

“She’s not out of the woods yet. The assembly might still vote for other hypernaturals to get personally involved and stop her, just on a longer timeline, instead of right now.” Luci says, leaning back in her seat. “Her parents are probably going to advocate for her to be dealt with in accordance with the seal that was placed on her — ergo, letting a group of mortals deal go after her, instead of a group of hypernaturals.”

“Are her parents here?” I ask, glancing around the sides of the assembly. Having met Azra, I’m a little curious about what her parents are like.

“They are.” Luci says, leaning to the side and pointing over the curved edge of our booth, towards a row that’s kinda across the stadium from us and several rows down. “Maelstrom and Radiance, they’re on the row that has all the Rantheon gods. They haven’t said a lot so far; seems like they’ve mostly been talking with the other members of the Rantheon. Probably working on a strategy to try and get discipline of their daughter remanded back to them.”

I follow Luci’s pointing finger, but with the sheer scale of the assembly, I can’t make out anything at this distance. I do notice that she’s pointed out the row of booths that the flame-haired woman was speaking from earlier, though.

“Additional information has been added to the Tirsigal case file.” the wolf-eared man announces from his spot upon the narrow, jutting cliff. “The updated file has been distributed to all attendees, with the new portions organized for your perusal.”

“Who’s that?” I ask, my attention turned now to the deity that seems to be leading the proceedings.

“That is Dalus, the Dalayu god of justice.” Raikaron answers. “He is widely respected within the hypernatural community, and he often officiates these kinds of proceedings.”

“Rai, what the hell is this?” Luci asks, reaching forward and pulling forward a three-dimensional hologram that looks like it’s playing a recording of a world erupting in plumes of magma and fire. “Were you on Tirsigal when Azra torched it?”

“It was a dream, your Majesty.” Raikaron says, glancing at the sphere. “I was not aware, at the time, that I was witnessing the torching of Tirsigal as it happened. But you would have known that, had you bothered to read the summarization that came with my account.”

Lucifer clicks her tongue. “Man, who’s got time for reading…” Still, she pulls forward the hologram window that has the summary in it, and starts skimming over it. “Damn. Your great-grandma’s a genocidal maniac.”

“Well, the Collective did assimilate the world she called home. That usually makes people a little upset.”

“The Collective would request the recusal of Miqo Morquela as the current judge of the Convocation, due to potential conflicts of interest.” The smooth, choral voice comes from one of the higher rings, closer to the entrance to the assembly. The projected image is of a head and shoulders, but the head is framed by what looks like a symmetrical cradle of fungus, and where a face would be, there is only a black space. Within the black space is what appears to be a single large, dilated eye, but looking closer, one sees that the pupil of that eye is actually hundreds of smaller eyes.

“Oh boy, here we go.” Luci mutters. “The bullshit has officially begun.”

“Is that…?” I murmur to Raikaron.

“That is the Collective’s representative to the Gathering, yes.” Raikaron answers. “I don’t know if it’s actually the Prime or just a stand-in, but the will of the Collective will be the same regardless of whether it’s one or the other.”

“A recusal requires legitimate grounds or rationale.” Dalus replies. “A potential conflict of interest is not sufficient grounds; it must be an actual conflict of interest. Do you wish to proceed with your request?”

“We will proceed.” the representative for the Collective replies.

“State the accused conflict of interest, and the supporting evidence or rationale for it, then.” Dalus orders.

“The current judge of the Convocation, Miqo Morquela, is the sister of Solebarr Syntaritov, who is the father of Kitty Hawk Resquill-Syntaritov, who is the mother of Alt Syntaritov, who is the head of the Rantheon, and by extension the father of Maelstrom and Radiance, who are the parents of Azra Guile, the accused.” the representative for the Collective says. “There is a family connection that may prejudice the oversight of this case if Miqo Morquela remains as the judge overseeing it—”

“Oh, now that’s just some bullshit right there!” The interruption is from a voice that sounds familiar, and I look to the side to see a projection of Wicked Wolf above one of the booths to our left, and down a few rings. “Miqo’s literally four generations and two adoptive connections removed from Azra. Does anyone seriously expect she’ll put her thumb on the scales for a great-great-grandniece that she’s not even related to by blood?”

“If you have an objection to an argument, raise it in the proper format, and wait for permission to expound upon your objection, Wicked Wolf.” Dalus warns. “These proceedings are not a trifling matter. We will observe the correct decorum to ensure that they are conducted properly and fairly.”

“Wait, Miqo’s here?” I murmur to Raikaron, looking around the stadium. “The one that runs the Neko Cafe? Why is she here?”

“Miqo is more than just a cafe manager.” Raikaron murmurs to me, pointing out another outcropping that is above and behind the one that Dalus is standing on. There is a seating area at its tip, just like the one below it, and an indistinct figure is seated there behind a wide lectern, overseeing the assembly. “She is a High Dreamkeeper, and the Dreaming’s Spirit of Judgement. So in assemblies like these, she is often called to serve as judge over the raised issues.”

I tilt my head to one side. “Wait, but isn’t the Dalus guy—”

“The god of justice, yes, but justice and judgement are two very different things.” Raikaron says. “Judgement presides over a matter, and decides who is in the right, and who is in the wrong, and what should be done about it. Judgement hands down the verdict and the sentence. Justice is the one that carries it out.”

I have to sit for a moment and soak that in. “Okay, that makes sense. But I don’t like that it’s so… granular.”

“You wish that judgement and justice could just be rolled into one person?” Raikaron guesses.

“Well, it would make it a whole lot easier to remember who’s in charge of what.” I say, folding my arms. “Also, does this mean Miqo is a god? Goddess, I suppose?”

“Oh goodness no. Not at all. Miqo is a God Eater, not a goddess.”

“A what?”

“Hey, if you two could keep the background chatter down, that would be great.” Luci says before Raikaron can explain. “Shit’s starting to get spicy, and I am here for it.”

It does seem like things have been getting heated; voices are being raised and more deities are starting to chime in while Raikaron and I were talking. The conversation seems to have shifted to Azra and her actions, and whether they were justified.

“You saw the accounts that were added to the report; I think it is quite obvious why she did what she did.”

“Just because her motivations were obvious does not mean that they were right. I’ve got no love for the Collective, but genocide is genocide, even when it’s the genocide of a species you don’t like.”

“Oh, so when the Collective assimilates a planet full of people, we can’t do anything about it and they just get away with it. But when one of us has the nerve to hit back, suddenly everyone gets their panties in a twist because that’s a bridge too far? After all the planets that the Collective’s stolen?”

“The Collective does not kill the people on the planets it assimilates.”

“Oh yeah, because assimilation is SO much better than death. Maybe you’d like to be the one to tell that to the families of everyone that got assimilated?”

“There are many that do find assimilation substantially better than death, and indeed find their quality of life measurably improved by it.”

“Yeah, well it would be nice if they could CHOOSE that, instead of having it forced on them, wouldn’t it?”

“Enough!” Dalus’s voice cuts through the competing chatter in a bid to bring the discourse back under control. “We have not assembled here to yell over each other like howler monkeys. The debate and discussion within these walls will be civil and substantive, and this forum will not be used as a platform to launch attacks or settle old scores.”

“How’s this for substance, then?” Wicked Wolf shouts, mounting the side of her booth and planting her plugsuit boot on the edge of her podium, more of her coming into view in the magnified projection over her booth. “There’s nothing to discuss! All of us already know why Azra did what she did. We’ve all lost mortals and followers to the Collective; we all know the games that they play, stealing worlds from us but then crying to the Gathering whenever we put our foot down and take them back. And you know what? A lot of you are secretly happy that someone finally stood up and did what had to be done, and you’re just glad you didn’t have to be the ones to take the fall for it! The rest of you only wish you were brave enough to do what Azra did. ‘Cause we’ve all been thinking it for thousands of years, but she was the only one that had the guts to actually stand up and do it!!”

“Gyah! Yeah! Gedd’em, girl!” Luci hisses through gritted teeth, pumping her fist. “Give ‘em a good look in the mirror!”

“Wolf!” Dalus snaps as the clamor in the assembly rises again. “You are out of order!”

“Your face is out of order!” she snaps back at him.

Dalus’s head tilts back a little, like an animal that’s come across something confusing, and doesn’t know how to react to it. “That is enough. I’m placing you on cooldown for the next fifteen minutes.” he says, reaching out to his podium. The projection above Wolf’s booth disappears, and though she keeps shouting, her voice is no longer amplified and can barely be heard in the titanic expanse of the assembly, especially with the voices of other deities still being amplified over it. “And I will do the same for others if you cannot rein yourselves in and adhere to the decorum of this assembly!”

The discordant chatter finally starts to die down with that, with several deities sitting back down in their booths, many of them folding their arms sulkily. Dalus’s scowl lessens only enough for him to huff. “First assembly in three thousand years, and you all are acting like animals, not gods! Unbelievable.”

Lucifer leans forward towards our podium, enough to activate the projection so she can eke out a quick “Gods in the streets, animals in the sheets~”

Dalus’s head snaps towards our booth as faint chuckles ripple around the sides of the assembly. “Thirty minutes of cooldown, Luci! I’ll double it if I hear another remark like that!”

Lucifer smirks, leaning back in her seat as she folds her arms. “Worth it.” she chuckles, then scowls when she remembers her wings, and sits forward a little more to give them space in her seat.

The Old City will request the right to speak.

Any remaining chatter in the assembly instantly wilts and dies out as reality bends and twists to convey the Witchling’s will. There is a terrible, inexorable pull on your attention and your awareness, the same that you might feel when swinging too close to a black hole. All eyes in the room seem to drag towards the booth that the Witchling occupies, all on her own, and where she has stood to its podium. Her image is projected into the air, but the half-mask is barely visible in the shadow of her hood.

“If the Old City has something related to this matter that it wishes to raise, then you may speak on it now.” Dalus says, his brow furrowed.

We raise two items for vote. The first is on the recusal of Miqo Morquela as judge of this matter, so that it may be expediently decided and put aside, and a new judge determined, if necessary. The second is that Azra Guile be dealt with in the manner prescribed by the seal her parents placed upon her. Though it has escaped this assembly’s attention, the sun and the storm have two daughters at stake in this matter, and one is yet innocent. She should not have to suffer for the crimes of her elder sister.

“Now what are you getting on about…” Luci murmurs, leaning forward in her seat as she narrows her eyes in the Witchling’s direction.

“What is it?” I ask Luci.

“This isn’t like the Witchling. She doesn’t get involved in this kind of stuff.” Luci says. “If she’s poking her nose into this, this means there’s something going on. There’s something in it for her.”

“She makes a good point, though.” Danya adds quietly. “Until now, I had forgotten that the body Azra is using as her vessel on the mortal plane does actually belong to someone else. That is probably what the Witchling is referring to.”

Dalus turns back towards the assembly after conferring with the woman in the seats behind him. “Both motions are upheld. A vote will be held on each matter, in sequence, since we cannot proceed with the second vote until we know the outcome of the first vote. Let the record show that while not all the summons have been answered, we cannot delay the consideration of this matter any further, and will proceed with the deliberation phase of this assembly with current attendance.”

“And there goes all the fun.” Luci sighs, making a raising motion with one hand, an array of icons rising up to join the images of the report that are already floating around her seat. “Time to buckle in for all the legal mumbo-jumbo and hoop-jumping. The drama was fun while it lasted, I guess.”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunity for more drama.” Raikaron says, pulling a small notebook from within his vest, along with an elegant pen. “Genocide is rarely a staid affair, and I’m sure there are many that would like to voice their opinions on this matter.”

I don’t really have anything to add to all this; I feel like I’m a passenger on a ride that’s much bigger than me. Danya seems to have sensed this, because she offers me a mint, a notepad, and a pen of my own. “I know it may seem overwhelming and somehow also incredibly boring, but you are watching history being made. Take down notes — future generations might be curious about what you heard, saw, or thought during this moment in time.”

I take the offered materials, not sure how I should feel about that. I know that it’s an incredible privilege to be here, in this place, among beings that are incomprehensibly old, addressing matters of grave importance. I know the consequences of Azra’s actions extend far beyond a single person, planet, or nation, and the ripples may be felt for generations to come.

And yet all I can think about is my brother, and whether he’ll be safe in the chaos that’s sure to follow all of this.

Event Log: Jayta Jaskolka

The Gathering: Dragine Diner

1:23pm SGT

“Uuuuuugggghhhh.” Luci says, grabbing at the knot of her tie and yanking it down a little as she slouches in her chair. “I’m already tired of being here. I forgot how much I hated assemblies. All the bullshit and posturing.”

“The procedural aspect leaves something to be desired, this is true.” Raikaron agrees as he parses through a holomenu over the table we’re sitting at. After nearly six hours of deliberations and sorting out other process and jurisdictional questions, Dalus had called a recess for the assembly so people could stretch their legs and cool their tempers. It had become clear that Azra’s actions had not occurred in a void, and judging by the number of deities that were willing to go easy on her, resentment against the Collective had been simmering for a long time. “The process is in place for a reason, though.”

“My understanding is that the last time something like this happened was prior to the Serenity War, correct?” Danya asks as she settles into her chair. The diner we’re in has roofless balcony area where you can eat while overlooking a good portion of the city of the Gathering, and it’s quite a view.

“Yeah, about thirteen thousand years ago. Eraser got loose and wiped out the Halomorian System and a few other smaller systems.” Luci says, dragging a hand over her face. “I think she was getting revenge on them for imprisoning her, or something like that. About thirty-five billion people dead, with thirty-four billion of those in Halomorian. The Gathering would’ve come down on her like a sack of rocks, but a bunch of mortals went after her and brought her down with Ink’s help. Trapped her in a black diamond and Ink made off with her before the Gathering could catch him.”

“Do you guys have, like, a list of all the hypernaturals in this galaxy? And what their deal is?” I ask as I tentatively poke through the holomenu in front of me. “You guys keep dropping names and I don’t know who any of these people are. If they’re deities, I’ve never even heard of half of them.”

“There’s probably a list somewhere.” Luci says, waving a hand. “A long list, mind you. Even if you only devoted a few lines or a paragraph to each hypernatural in Myrrdicato, you’d still come up with a book that’s at least a few hundred pages long.”

“It would be a worthwhile study nonetheless, especially considering the number of hypernaturals that Jayta has encountered so far, and may yet encounter.” Danya says, flicking away her menu. “I’m ready to order. Jayta, do you need any help parsing the menu?”

“I mean…” I say, squinting at some of the entrees. “I’ve never really seen this kind of food before, even when we went to those really fancy restaurants in Morningstar. What the heck is Starfire Soup supposed to be? The Nebula Fluff Cake looks, good, I just… dunno what I’m looking at.”

“I’m not even ordering off the menu, and since you’re mortal, you probably shouldn’t either.” Luci says, planting her chin on her hand as she looks at me. “The Dragine here usually make their food with cosmic ingredients that hypernaturals and deminaturals used to spice up their dishes. But I’m not feeling that today, so I’m just gonna tell them to grill me up a burger and fries, Venusian-style. You want one?”

I look to Raikaron, who shrugs. “If a burger and fries is what you want, we won’t judge. Personally, I don’t usually get a chance to try out Dragine cuisine, so I’m going to try it while I have the chance.”

The clearing of a throat grabs our attention, and we all turn to see a couple of hypernaturals have approached our table — a man and a woman with clashing themes. The man looks to be a feline vashaya’rei with black cat ears, is wreathed in a rich, dark blue cloak that’s trimmed with swirling stormclouds. Darkness seems to seep from the edges of his cloak, spilling onto the floor around him, while echoes of lightning will occasionally light up the fabric of his cloak, traveling from the storm-trimmed hood down to the darkened hem. Beside him, the woman appears to be a fennec vashy, with large, twitching ears that remain alert at all times. She’s also wreathed in a cloak, though hers appears to be made not of fabric, but of pure, muted light, and where the man’s cloak is trimmed with storm clouds, hers is trimmed with what looks like a solar coronasphere — undulating strands of golden-orange light, twisting and curling along magnetic fields that keep it bound to the rim of her hood.

“Oh! Hey!” Luci says, abruptly straightening up in her chair. “Maelstrom, Radiance. Hadn’t been expecting to see you two here. What’s up?”

“We wanted to ask a moment of time, if you don’t mind.” Maelstrom says as Raikaron and Danya stand up, and I hurry to follow their lead.

“You don’t need to stand for us.” Radiance says, lifting a hand as if telling us to sit down, then motioning to our table. “Do you mind if we sit?”

“Oof, sitting. Sounds like this is going to take more than a moment.” Luci says, hooking an arm over the back of her chair as Raikaron, Danya, and myself sit back down. “Y’all aren’t gonna get us in trouble, are you?”

“We hope not, as we want to try and incorporate your assistance in an official capacity.” Maelstrom replies. “If it helps, Mourningstar, we will not be asking for your help directly — we were hoping we could instead borrow your archdemon here.”

Luci raises an eyebrow, pointing a thumb at Raikaron. “Him? Well, now I’m almost offended. What kind of help are you looking for if he can help but I can’t?”

“It’s the help of circumstance.” Maelstrom says, turning his attention to me, at which point I suddenly notice the clean, lightning-blue hue of his irises. “Your archdemon’s partner is the sister of the witchling who is the mate of our other daughter that Azra is currently possessing. There is a connection there which may give us a foothold in asking him and his partner to be involved in resolving this issue.”

Lucifer’s mouth hangs open slightly, looking at me, then back to Maelstrom and Radiance. “Alright, run that by me one more time.”

“I am Jayta’s partner. Jayta is the sister of a witchling. The witchling is the mate of a morphox. The morphox is the one that Azra has possessed in order to cross over into the mortal plane.” Raikaron explains for Lucifer. “Jayta has a right to involvement in this matter, though it is a little tenuous.”

“We want to have your archdemon serve as the Gathering-appointed overseer for getting Azra back to the Maelstrom.” Radiance says. “He will keep an eye on things while the mortals hunt down Azra and return her to the Maelstrom, and make sure that she doesn’t commit any more atrocities before then. He can also give those mortals guidance on how to deal with her. Jayta can accompany him, and help her brother and his friends hunt down Azra and save our other daughter.”

“Mmmm.” Luci says, chewing on her lip as she sizes up Maelstrom and Radiance. “You two aren’t doing this to try and get Azra off the hook, are you? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that someone finally poked the Collective in the eye. Good on her for having the guts to do it. But genocide is genocide, and like they pointed out in the Convocation earlier — even if the Collective at large is guilty of transgressions, the individual Symbiotes that make it up are usually innocent of any wrongdoing. She killed a lot of innocent people, and it still has to be punished, even if I don’t think it should be punished as harshly as the Collective wants it to be.”

“Oh, she will be punished.” Maelstrom says, the storm-trimmed hood of his cloak rumbling with the sound of distant thunder. “That much is not in question. Teia and I will be working on securing the right to discipline our own daughter, but while we are doing that, we want someone we trust to make sure she makes it back to the Maelstrom, where she will be under our jurisdiction. I do not approve of the way that Azra made her point, but I will not see my daughter destroyed for taking a stand against the Collective.”

Lucifer continues chewing on her lip, almost like she was chewing over Maelstrom’s proposition. “I agree with you on principle. But I doubt that the Gathering’s going to bend over backwards to accommodate your preferred resolution, even if most of us are on your side. And the Collective aren’t pushovers; they’re going to be fighting on every front to get their preferred resolution to this crisis.”

“Which is why we’re asking for your help.” Radiance says, motioning to herself and Maelstrom. “We are young gods; we don’t have as much clout as you do. Any help we can get to deal with the Collective’s maneuvers in the Convocation would mean a lot to us.”

“What about the rest of your… thing, your little pantheon-family thing?” Luci says, making a vague motion with a hand. “All the other gods from Rantecevang. Aren’t they helping you? Figure you lot would be more effective as a unified voting bloc.”

“The entire Rantheon stands with us because Tirsigal was a Ranter colony, and when the Collective assimilated it, it hurt all of us.” Maelstrom says. “But they only carry so much power as a voting bloc, which is why we’ve been reaching out to others whose interests align with ours. If you feel that counteracting the Collective’s maneuvers is asking too much, we won’t push it, but we would still like to have your archdemon appointed to the overseer position.”

“Well, hold on now, I never said I wouldn’t help out.” Luci says, holding up a hand. “I just wanted to know if you were getting help from your pantheon. If the Collective is pulling some hinky moves and your Rantheon can’t get enough leverage to counter them, I’ll move some votes. But I’m not sure about letting you nominate Raikaron to the overseer position. Right now, the heavens and hells are getting flooded with souls, and I’m gonna need all of my Lords to help manage the surge.”

Radiance shifts a little, looking a Maelstrom, and he gives her a small nod. “Well, we would not actually be the ones nominating him. The Witchling wants to see him appointed to the position.” she says.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Raikaron straighten at those words, as does Danya. Lucifer’s brows come together, a scowl starting to develop as if realization was dawning on her. “…wait, the Witchling is… then why… oh. She’s the one that’s behind this, isn’t she? This wasn’t your idea, this was hers… I knew she was up to something when she raised those two motions for vote in the assembly; what is she playing at, planning on nominating one of my archdemons to oversee a crisis on the mortal plane?”

“We had the same questions.” Maelstrom says. “Near as we can tell, the Witchling is acting to protect one of her own. Our other daughter is involved with one of her witchlings, and since he is likely to go after Azra to try and save our other daughter, the Witchling is moving to ensure his survival.”

“No. No no no. She wouldn’t do all this for a single witch boy.” Luci says, passing her fingers over her lips as she looks away, out over the balcony’s railing to the starless black sky over the city. “The Witchling isn’t like that. She’s a big-picture person; she doesn’t bother with saving individual lives unless they’re critical to something else she has planned, something bigger than him. If she’s trying to safeguard him, that means she has something bigger planned later on down the line.”

“Yeah. We know.” Radiance says. “And we know she’s using our concern for our daughters to get our help with that. We wouldn’t normally work with her, but we have a common goal right now: we want to protect our daughters, she wants to protect her witchling, and the way to get there is by trying to get him,” She emphasizes the word by pointing at Raikaron. “appointed as overseer of the crisis on the mortal plane.”

“Just because he gets appointed as overseer doesn't mean he’ll throw things in your favor.” Luci says, motioning back to Raikaron. “An overseer serves the Gathering; they’re required to arbitrate fairly and without prejudice. They have a little bit of wiggle room for discretionary judgement, but not a lot.”

“A little bit of wiggle room can go a long way in a matter like this.” Maelstrom says. “But we are not looking for him to act with bias; we don’t need him to throw things in our favor. We just need him to fill the spot so that the Collective can’t put their preferred candidate in that position. He will be a safeguard, not a saboteur.”

Lucifer tilts her head back a little at that, her scarlet eyes going to Raikaron across the table. “You just keep getting me in trouble, you know that? First the Witchling, now this.”

“My apologies.” Raikaron says. “But in my defense, I didn’t instigate this particular bit of trouble.”

“I know, but I’m gonna blame you for it anyway, because you seem to draw trouble like a magnet draws iron.” Luci says, before looking back to Maelstrom and Radiance. “So, I understand what the Rantheon and the Witchling are getting out of this little alliance, but what am I getting out of it? As far as I can tell, Sjelefengsel’s putting some reputation on the line but isn’t getting anything out of it.”

“If it would help with the surge of souls you’ll be seeing in Sjelefengsel, we can provide you some of our seraphs to help with processing and settling all of them.” Radiance offers.

Lucifer waves that suggestion away. “No, you can’t even make that offer because I know a chunk of the population on Tirsigal were assimilated vashies. Some of them are still going to be showing up in your heaven and you’ll need your seraphs to help with that.” Rubbing her cheek, Lucifer seems to think for a moment, then snaps her fingers. “I want you two to go on a double date with me and Lilith.”

Radiance and Maelstrom both seem a bit caught off guard by that. “A… date? Like a couples date?” Radiance says, as if she thought she might’ve misheard.

“Yeah, Lili and I don’t have a ton of other hypernatural couples we can do double dates with.” Luci says. “Sylak and Dalus have this weird frenemies-with-benefits thing going on; Aphrodite’s got a different toy every other century; Ink and Kau are fine, but Ink’s Forbannet, so we get the stink eye for hanging out with him… it’s just really hard to find a normal hypernatural couple to do a double date with.”

Maelstrom looks at Radiance, and she shrugs. “I mean, it’s really not asking for much in return.” she points out.

He nods. “Alright then. Yeah, we’ll go on a double date with you and Lilith after all this is over, I presume?”

“Yeah, we’ll save the date for later, when things have calmed down.” Luci says, waving a hand. “Y’all are gonna be just as busy as we are, so no big rush. We’ll let you know when we’re available.”

“Something I believe has been overlooked is the question of whether Lord Syntaritov actually wants to accept this commission.” Danya speaks up at this point. “If you’ll pardon me speaking in the presence of my betters, I would like to point out that he has not yet had a chance to voice his opinion on this offer.”

Luci rolls her eyes. “I mean, we all know he’s going to say yes. His lover’s got him wrapped around her finger and she’s got a bleeding heart for her brother, so of course he’s going to accept the position if he’s nominated for it.”

I look at Raikaron, who adjusts his glasses. “Shrewd as ever, your Majesty.” he says, looking to Radiance and Maelstrom. “It will be an honor to accept the nomination if the Witchling raises it. I cannot promise to pursue a favorable resolution for Azra, but I will pursue a resolution that prioritizes the survival of the other daughter that has been taken as her vessel.”

Maelstrom nods, glancing to Radiance. “He understands the assignment.” he says, before motioning to the other chairs at the table. “Do you mind if we sit? We would like to bring you up to speed on the group of mortals that we have summoned to deal with Azra. They will be the ones that will have to hunt down Azra and return her to the Maelstrom.”

“Yeah, sure, pull up a seat.” Luci says, waving a hand. “Go ahead and grab a menu; we were just about to order. If we’re gonna be talking business, we might as well be doing it over a plate of hot waffle fries and some barby sauce…”