< Chapter Twelve(.5): The Abyss Beckons

Chapter Fourteen: (Coming Soon!) >

Chapter Thirteen - Convergence of Crises

The Return from the Abyss

Joshua stood in Suhuy's study, his frame outlined against the shifting walls of the ancient sorcerer's domain, having just emerged from the Trump contact that had carried him from the depths of the unthinkable. His boots - once infused with the living essence of Skin, that miraculous creation of Stålmannen - had been reduced to ordinary footwear, drained of all magic, all life. The sacrifice had been complete.

Suhuy regarded him with his customary stoicism, one eyebrow raised in that understated manner that spoke volumes more than words ever could. The Master of the Logrus had seen much in his eons of existence, had witnessed the rise and fall of powers beyond counting, but something in Joshua's bearing suggested news of particular gravity.

"There's a significant problem," Joshua said, his voice carrying the weight of what he had witnessed in the depths. The words felt inadequate - a master of understatement describing the apocalypse.

"So you've appraised," Suhuy responded, his eyes sharpening with interest.

Joshua drew a measured breath. "The situation is particularly dire. Ancient entities are vying with each other across Reality. One of them has taken control of the Abyss - and not a particularly pleasant one." He paused, letting the gravity of his words settle into the ancient stones of the chamber. "Imagine the worst one you can."

"You're speaking of Abaddon." It was not a question.

"I saw him manifested. This is not rumour."

Suhuy's gaze swept over Joshua's form with the practised assessment of a master examining a student's work, and something flickered in his ancient eyes - surprise, perhaps, or grudging respect. "I see no mark of taint on you." His voice carried genuine astonishment. "In all the eons of the existence of the Courts of Chaos, we have never found a protection to prevent the abyssal taint. To delay it, perhaps, but never to prevent it entirely. You were down there for quite some time. How long do you think you were?"

"Minutes?" Joshua offered, though he knew time meant nothing in that place. Days had passed by any external measure, but the Abyss warped all perception, made linear thought itself an act of defiance against entropy.

"You speak of protection," Suhuy observed. "That must have been extraordinarily potent."

"Yes. I had aid and assistance. And now I have an obligation - my obligation will be fulfilled. I need to remove an abyssal taint from a being. The one who gave me the means to survive."

Suhuy shook his head gravely at this declaration. "Good luck with that. No known cure has been discovered in the eons that the Courts of Chaos has been in existence. You should ask this person to make their peace and accept their fate."

"This person gave me the means to get down there and back without taint. Some people are more important than others."

The ancient sorcerer inclined his head, acknowledging the point. "Agreed. I am prepared to help in this endeavour, since this individual is clearly important. But I don't know that there's anything I can add. I've been in existence almost as long as the Courts of Chaos has, and in my entire existence, I know of no cure for abyssal taint."

Joshua shifted the conversation to matters of defence. "You will need to prepare the Courts. There is probably - definitely - already infiltration. My suspicion is that the Church of the Serpent has been infiltrated by the Abyss. They send people into the shadows to gain control and power and exert influence. If they gain control of the Courts, it's one of the Primes of Reality."

"The Courts are in turmoil," Suhuy acknowledged. "The Church of the Serpent grows in power daily and the Crown retreats."

"Think carefully - only one force benefits from contestation between Church and Crown at the moment, and it's not us." Joshua's voice carried the weight of bitter experience. "Also, I saw Brand down there."

This drew particular interest from Suhuy. "The one who was delivered to the Abyss at the end of Patternfall. He had spent considerable time here with his sister and brother during the lead up to Patternfall. He has a considerable number of followers."

"He's not dead. He has not departed. And he is not in charge - he serves Abaddon now, broken and grovelling. Anyone who was close to him would be suspect."

Suhuy absorbed this intelligence with characteristic composure. "I will make sure that I give particular attention to those connections. I have confidence that I will re-vet, shall we say, certain individuals - maybe without telling them as much - to aid me in this search."

Their conversation was interrupted by a Trump contact - Kyle, seeking information about Joshua's expedition. Suhuy informed him that Joshua had returned without taint, a feat unprecedented in the history of Chaos. Joshua joined the Trump contact, and when Kyle asked if he could bring Joshua through, the ancient sorcerer reluctantly agreed to part with his student after extracting a promise of further communication.

The Diagnosis of Corruption

On Terra Prime, the others had gathered following the reunion of Macha with the Glazier. Kyle had drawn a permanent Trump of Macha, and the group had been monitoring the two old friends as they caught up on eons of events. Corin had summoned a Logrus tendril to keep watch, alert for any emanations of power, though none came. The Glazier spoke at length, updating Macha on all that had transpired since Abaddon's defeat and her subsequent fading - the rise of Bennu and the Unicorn, the creation of the Pattern and Logrus, the establishment of the Courts of Chaos, and his own departure from the Mirror Realm due to conflicts with Savik, Dworkin's first wife.

When Joshua arrived via Trump gate, the group convened to address the crisis at hand. The question of Stålmannen's condition demanded immediate attention. Kyle, with his unparalleled Trump ability, had recently updated his Trump of the machine intelligence, and now Joshua attempted contact.

The connection formed, revealing Stålmannen in a metallic room, surrounded by columns of light and holographic screens that he manipulated with precise gestures - like something from a science fiction film, but somehow more elegant, more purposeful.

"How are you feeling?" Joshua asked carefully.

"That question has no meaning," came Stålmannen's measured response.

"The Skin served its purpose."

"Excellent. Where is it?"

"Unfortunately, it self-destructed. It felt a strong taint - a change, a disconnect, an alteration to its reality." Joshua paused, watching for any reaction in that impassive metallic face. "It also suggested that the taint may have extended itself to you."

"That is not possible." Stålmannen's voice carried absolute certainty. "I am as immutable now as I was the day before. These are meaningless questions. You are wasting my time."

Joshua could not mentally project images to a being whose mind was completely walled off from such contact, so he requested permission to visit Stålmannen's Shadow with Bannoq to investigate further. The machine intelligence agreed with evident reluctance, providing them with a chaperone and access to non-essential systems.

In a metallic room where screens and keyboards morphed up from the floor at the chaperone's direction, Joshua called up recordings from before and after the battle against the demon horde. Using his Logrus sight, he observed the recordings with preternatural focus while Bannoq watched through his own perspective.

Then Joshua spotted it - something zipping through the air, completely invisible to any without Logrus or Pattern Sight, flashing across the battlefield and entering Stålmannen's shoulder. The entity was ethereal, without physical substance, but unmistakably abyssal in nature. The exact moment of contamination, frozen in time.

Bannoq had noticed something else after the battle was over - an almost imperceptible stumble from Stålmannen as he strode away to contemplate whatever such beings contemplate. They found it in the recordings, that tiny mechanical hesitation that stood out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of precisely moving mechanical beings.

"Chaperone, take us back to the boss," Joshua commanded.

Standing before Stålmannen again, Joshua manipulated his own body with the fluid control of a Logrus master, extending part of his hand into a lens infused with his Logrus sight - a window through which a non-magical being might perceive what only those who walked the Logrus could see.

"Can you project the same images onto the screen? The before and after recordings of yourself?"

The images appeared. "Now look at the two images through this lens and tell me if you notice anything different."

Stålmannen stood stock still, his head moving between the two screens with perfect mechanical precision. Then, in a voice that carried something almost like concern: "What is it?"

"Abyssal taint. The point where it happened is here." Joshua showed him the moment of infection, the invisible demon entering his shoulder. "You could not have known. It was invisible and left no trace you could detect."

Stålmannen's expression shifted - if a machine could show concern, this was it. "I have isolated myself off from all critical systems, and set off purges and reboots of those systems with which I have had contact."

Corin, connected with Joshua via Trump, explained her theory that Joshua might use a specific manipulation of a Logrus tendrils could "pluck" the taint like a string, making the infected person aware of its presence. The technique would be perceived as an assault, potentially dangerous to attempt on a being as powerful as Stålmannen, but it might be the only way to prove the reality of the infection.

Joshua explained the process to Stålmannen and was given permission to attempt it. He channelled Prime energy at the centre of the infection as Corin had suggested. The effect was immediate.

Stålmannen shuddered, an electronic groan escaping him that seemed to reverberate through the walls of the chamber. "I feel it. Stop."

Joshua ceased immediately. The taint was real, and now Stålmannen knew it.

"What is the cure?" Stålmannen demanded as he loomed over the Chaos Lord.

"I currently do not have a working hypothesis for a cure. In millennia, eons, there has been no cure. The only person who has survived untainted is me, because of the artefacts you gave me. That is the only reason I am not infected."

Bannoq spoke up with sudden insight. "You walked the Pattern before, didn't you?"

"I did," Stålmannen confirmed.

"Did that give you any ability to detect such things? Others of our colleagues can detect the same taint through what they call Pattern Lense."

"I do not have that capability."

Joshua considered this carefully, a thought crystallising. "However, the reconstruction process one goes through when walking a Pattern..."

"Could that cure me?"

"It's a possibility."

"Then I must try."

Walking the Centre of Order

Back on Terra Prime, Kyle performed a Trump casting, seeking guidance on how to remove the taint from Stålmannen. The answer came swiftly and unambiguously: the Pattern. He contacted Benedict to inform him of the plan.

"Let me get this straight…" Benedict said, his voice carrying that edge of controlled displeasure that made lesser beings tremble. But Kyle cut him off swiftly “You asked us to get Stålmannen on board. If we can affect a cure, he will be on board”. Benedict, obviously still concerned, spoke again, "Why can't you take him to the Amber Pattern? It's effectively the same, but it's not - if you know what I mean."

Kyle agreed, "I'll keep you posted. Before it happens, I'll let you know."

Benedict’s final comment was "And for the love of the Unicorn, don't bring him through Amber. Take him straight to the Pattern room. His presence would likely to cause all sorts of problems."

Kyle opened Trump gates from both Stålmannen's Shadow and Terra Prime directly to the Pattern room beneath Castle Amber, and all stepped through. The great glowing sigil of Order spread before them in its eternal oval, pulsing with the fundamental power of Order, beautiful in it’s perfect form. Stålmannen walked through first. He looked to where he would need to place his first massive foot.

The Pattern Droid moved tentatively towards the beginning, pausing at the threshold. The weight of what he was about to attempt seemed to press upon even his argent shoulders. Bannoq offered simple encouragement, and after a brief glance at him, Stålmannen stepped onto the Pattern.

Sparks erupted with every step, low at first, then building as he progressed. He moved through the veils, through the grand curve, around the arcs - a ten minute display of electrifying, exhilarating reconstruction. The Pattern tested him, challenged him, demanded that every aspect of his being submit to its scrutiny. Those watching who had walked the Pattern themselves knew exactly what he was experiencing: the pain, the pressure, the sense of being unmade and remade with every agonising step.

When he reached the centre, lightning arced across his form in cascading waves of power, and he raised his arms to his sides, parallel with the floor in a gesture that might have been one of triumph, or completion, or supplication, to forces beyond mortal comprehension.

Kyle examined him through his Pattern Lens, his breath held. "The abyssal taint. Its gone?". Relief and tension flooded from the onlookers.

Stålmannen stood renewed, and it seemed he carried an extra sheen to his metallic form, as if newly forged. And finally he spoke.

"Take me to the centre of Order," Stålmannen said.

Kyle and the rest gaped for only a moment, before Kyle opening a Trump gate to the Primal Pattern.

They emerged near Primal Patterns beginning, but Stålmannen was already walking before they could properly orient themselves, driven by some inner imperative that would not be denied. Dworkin shuffled out of his cave, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and stopped short, his eyes widening in astonishment, at the sight of the argent being tracing the lines of his greatest creation.

"Oh, how desperately interesting," the eccentric creator murmured, his eyes bright with curiosity, and an enthusiastic smile breaking across his face.

The group gathered around Dworkin as Stålmannen completed his walk of the Primal Pattern - a prerequisite for gaining an Advanced Pattern understanding, though instruction would still be needed for understanding to be gained. Dworkin watched with keen interest, tracking every spark and shimmer with the appreciation of an artist examining a masterwork.

When Stålmannen reached the centre, it turned in the direction of the Master of Order, and suddenly Stålmannen stood in front of and loomed over Dworkin. After a brief pause, which seemed to last an eternity, the argent machine intelligence knelt and bowed before the creator of the Pattern - a gesture that satisfied even Benedict, who had been watching through Kyle's Trump contact.

"He's learning faster than should be possible," Dworkin observed, placing his hand on the droid bowed head, wonder evident in his ancient voice. "His mind works unbelievably quickly. I sense no threat in him - only an unusual degree of subservience and acceptance."

Relief flowed out of everyone once again. Dworkin ordered a celebration, and began pulling tables and bench from his cave. While the “feast” was prepared, Kyle pulled Stålmannen aside afterward, his mind already working through the tactical implications. "You need to physically change yourself in the way you did before. You could be traced by Trump, and a certain relative of mine, my uncle Brand, has exceptional Trump ability. Maybe on a par with mine, maybe greater. Presently, you're traceable, and that needs to change."

Stålmannen paused for only a few moments. "It is done."

Kyle continued, "Can you do that periodically? Every six hours?"

"Very well. That will run periodically, but those who need to contact me will still be able to." The machine intelligence had already grasped the necessity - Brand's Trump ability was legendary, and periodic reconfiguration might provide just enough interference to prevent monitoring.

Ancient Friends, Ancient Powers

Back on Terra Prime, Corin attended to Macha, who had fallen into an exhausted sleep after her long conversation with the Glazier. Using her psychic abilities, Corin gently soothed the ancient goddess, projecting feelings of calm, welcome, and safety. Macha's mind was incredibly opaque - a obsidian fortress of ages that even Corin's considerable abilities could barely brush against - but the surface accepted these ministrations, and the goddess rested deeply.

Meanwhile, Kyle and the rest returned to Terra Prime, leaving Stålmannen, apparently serving every whim of Dworkin. Kyle reviewed the recordings of Macha's conversation with the Glazier, seeking any insight that might prove useful. The two had spoken of ancient times - the wars between the Old Gods, Macha's sacrifice in funnelling all her power through Bennu to overthrow Abaddon, and the Glazier's subsequent departure from the Mirror Realm due to conflicts with Savik. The recording revealed how the Glazier had butted heads with Savik after Macha's fading, how he had eventually chosen exile over continued conflict with Savik and her loyal family members.

The Glazier had agreed to prepare a semi-permanent residence for Macha, stepping through a mirror-like portal he created in the wall before vanishing - waving his hand across the surface to transform it into a polished, reflective gateway through which he simply stepped and disappeared.

When Macha awakened, she spoke of her desire to visit the Realm of Knowledge. "I still am cut off from everything I once had, other than the occasional bit of knowledge," she explained. "The Patriarch's records might help me understand why my abilities remain locked away even now that I have returned. Does that not make sense?"

But before they could make arrangements, Benedict contacted Kyle with urgent news.

"Annael is gone."

The young man - Benedict's half-brother through Cymnea, imprisoned in comfortable quarters since his capture - had vanished. A standard guard check had found his rooms empty.

William, contacted through his connection to Bennu, quickly discovered the truth. His half-sister Alesha had drawn Annael through to Bennu's realm using her developing powers - the Power of Balance that marked her as bearer of the Unicorn's essence. She had pierced the barriers between realms to bring him to her, a feat that should have been impossible for one so newly initiated.

"She's developing faster than I could imagine," Bennu confirmed when William reached him in his divine realm.

A Message from the Mirror Realm

Before the implications of Alesha's powers could be fully explored, another visitor arrived on terra Prime - a red bird, the red of blood, albatross-sized yet crow-shaped, which landed before William, who had been working at a forge on Terra Prime while the others had been dealing with Stålmannen. Its feathers were blood-red, its eyes beady and intelligent, and when it spoke, its voice carried across dimensions of meaning.

"We require a meeting. The Children of Savik wish to discuss the future of Reality with you all."

The mirror-realm people, enemies from their previous encounter in Trebernaxus, were requesting a parley - neutral territory at the centre of all things.

"If you and your companions value or want to speak about the future of reality, you will attend this meeting," the bird continued. "We will swear to arrive and leave peacefully, if you so swear."

William agreed to consult with his companions, and the bird told him it would return soon for an answer, and then departed, shifting shadow as it flew - clearly capable of traversing the distances between worlds with the same ease as any of them.

The Realm of Knowledge

The group split to address multiple urgent matters simultaneously. Kyle contacted Delwin, Oberon's son who had given himself over to service of the Patriarch, and arranged passage to the Realm of Knowledge. Kyle, Corin, Joshua, and Bannoq would accompanied Macha, reaching the Realm through Undershadow - that strange place between places where distance held different meaning. While William would travel to his fathers realm to speak to Bennu, Alesha and see what had happened to Annael, and also investigate if Alesha had the power to penetrate other Realms, i.e.: the Realm of Prisons.

The Patriarch welcomed the two Amberites and the two Chaosians, and Macha. He was intrigued by Macha's return - a goddess who had faded beyond memory now walking again in reality. Within the great structure of the Realm of Knowledge, surrounded by accumulated knowledge of eons, they sought answers to questions both tactical and existential.

Joshua spoke to The Patriarch of his journey to The Abyss, and of all that he had heard and seen. "We cannot see into the Abyss," the Patriarch explained, his ageless voice filling the chamber. "Nor the Mirror Realm. What little knowledge we have of the Eldritch Maw comes from Fintan himself, who may have descended into the Abyss to discover its secrets. As a God, it seems likely that he could do so and prevent any taint for longer than most. The Eldritch Maw is a corridor - a means of moving to other Greater Realities, of which this Realm and all the Realms we know of, Amber and Chaos, the Mirror Realm, the Realm of Prisons, is but one."

"If Abaddon was gathering forces from these other places," Joshua mused, the implications settling like lead in his stomach, "that would be a concern."

The Patriarch nodded, "It would be a catastrophe. The numbers at his disposal would be on an order of magnitude never seen before. Though how anything survives once it arrives in the Abyss, I do not know."

The Patriarch then shared recordings of the three Old Gods who had been imprisoned after the Realm of Knowledge was created - Tauron and Centaurus by the Serpent, and Hrolief by the combined effort of several gods. Kyle studied the recordings intently, his Trump-attuned senses perceiving layers of meaning invisible to others. When the Serpent transported its captives, it rippled reality itself, sliding through multiple slices of existence in a manner that felt distinctly Trump-like. When the gods created a gateway to imprison Hrolief, they formed a circular portal - different in method, but also carrying that same Trump resonance, and it seemed clear that most of the power came from one of the gods.

"Macha did this," Kyle realised, watching the second recording through his Pattern Lens. "And it feels like something I might be able to replicate with more study."

"If Abaddon is truly coming back," the Patriarch warned, his voice heavy with the weight of ages, "that is a Reality-ending crisis. He will attempt to exterminate everything and everyone, then remould Reality to his vision. All of your lives will end, or change so dramatically that you will not recognise yourselves."

The Touch of the Great Spikard

Bannoq, leaving the others, followed Macha and Delwin through the corridors of the Realm of Knowledge, watched as they entered the chamber of the Great Spikard - that massive, sapphire-like structure floating in a column of nothingness, the gift of Fintan, and the foundation of the Realm itself. Steps led down to a circular platform at the edge of the void, and the Great Spikard hung there, multifaceted and shifting, emanating power that made the very air hum with potential.

Macha approached its edge, her movements purposeful, her intent clear. She raised her hands and reached forward to touch it.

The result was cataclysmic.

Energies erupted from the contact, her hair standing on end as if every strand sought to escape her scalp. Power coursed through her in visible waves, dancing across her form like lightning seeking ground. She began to scream - agony and ecstasy intertwined in a sound that transcended mortal comprehension - and then a detonation of force sent her flying backwards through the air.

The wave of power washed outward like a physical wall, slamming through Bannoq and sending him tumbling down the corridor. Delwin was launched against the wall of the amphitheatre with enough force to dent the ancient stone, blood beginning to seep from his ears and the back of his head instantly, as he slumped to the ground. The energy rippled through the very fabric of the Realm of Knowledge, reaching the main chamber where the others sat with The Patriarch.

The invisible wave hit them without warning - one moment they were discussing strategy, the next they were sprawling across the floor, chairs shattering, stonework cracking, the Patriarch himself knocked unconscious by the force of the blast.

Corin recovered first, bringing her Logrus to bear as she assessed the damage. Joshua and Kyle were close behind, shaking off the effects through sheer endurance and force of will.

"What happened?" Kyle demanded of Bannoq via Trump.

"She touched the Spikard," Bannoq reported, having struggled back to the chamber where Macha lay unconscious. Blood seeped from Delwin's ears and the back of his head - his skull fractured, his vertebrae likely damaged from the impact. But Macha herself appeared whole, unconscious but without obvious injury.

The Great Spikard still throbbed with energy, radiating intense heat that made approach impossible. Whatever Macha had attempted, whatever power she had tried to reclaim, the Spikard had rejected her with violent finality.

The Gate to Imprisonment

Meanwhile, William faced his own crisis. He had travelled to Bennu's realm to inform his father of recent developments. Bennu's reaction to news of Macha's return was immediate and visceral.

"My sister has returned. This is unbelievable. Where is she?"

"She has been taken to the Realm of Knowledge with my other companions. She wishes to understand what happened to her abilities."

William then delivered the more concerning news - Joshua's descent into the Abyss and his discovery there. "When he was down there, he saw a great many creatures, including... the returning form of Abaddon."

Bennu's response was primeval. He rocked back, closed his eyes, and began speaking in a language beyond William's comprehension, though he caught the name "Abaddon" repeated through gritted teeth. When the god finally composed himself, his voice carried millennia of bitter memory.

"We thought this was all behind us. Our new reality was safe from him. Nothing survives the Abyss. Nothing. We used it as a midden for the beings we knew we could not kill or imprison from the beginning of time, because we believed nothing survived it."

"We are looking for ways to prevent whatever's coming," William offered.

"War is coming," Bennu said grimly.

William then asked to see Alesha, hoping her new ability to breach barriers between realms might provide passage to the Realm of Prisons, where other Old Gods remained imprisoned. Bennu led him to where Alesha and Annael were residing - comfortable quarters suited to their mortal sensibilities.

Annael had been practising sword work, though he paused at William's arrival. His stance remained wary - William was the man who had spared his life, beaten him in combat, and now seemed to be everywhere that mattered. Alesha approached with obvious enthusiasm, linking her arm through William's with an intimacy that spoke of the bond between saviour and saved.

William asked, and her reply was immediate, "I'll do anything for you," she said. "How can I help?"

"We need passage to the Prison Realm."

Alesha nodded knowingly. "Bennu has explained the structure of reality to me. I don't think I should attempt that while I'm here, though. I don't want to upset him - he's been so good to me."

They agreed to attempt the breach from outside Bennu's realm. With Bennu's blessing, they departed, although they told Bennu nothing of their plans - Alesha, Annael, and William walking out of the divine realm and finding themselves in Ygg's Shadow, that liminal space near the great Tree of Life that stood between the poles of reality.

There, surrounded by the strange twilight of that fundamentally Real place, Alesha began her attempt. Her hands moved, words of power tumbling from her lips, and a swirling began to form before her - an alicorn-like spiral that drilled through the fabric of reality itself, tunnelling through dimensions with visible effort. It grew longer, deeper, wider, until it formed a ten-foot circular gateway crackling with wild energies.

Then came a crack of thunder that shook the very foundations of existence.

Alesha began to shake violently, her eyes rolling back in her head, screaming in obvious agony as forces beyond her control tore through her mind. William acted on instinct, casting his Purified Region power in an attempt to nullify whatever was happening. His divine energy slammed into the tunnel - and bounced back, knocking him off his feet onto the ground.

Alesha screamed higher than any sound William had ever heard, then collapsed like a puppet, the string of which had suddenly been cut.

The tunnel remained open, its edges crackling with wild energies. And from its depths came bellowing - a sound of rage and hunger that transcended mortal understanding.

A leathery, slimy tentacle whipped through the portal, wrapped itself around Annael's throat with crushing force, taking him by complete surprise. It yanked him through into the realm beyond.

William didn't hesitate. He drew his sword, commanded his blade to transform into white flames with a thought, and charged through the portal after Annael.

Combat in the Prison Realm

The landscape beyond was barren, devastated - a wasteland of broken stone and shattered hope. And dominating it all was a beast of monstrous proportions. Six-legged, armoured in jagged spurs that jutted from its hide like broken bones, with tentacles emerging from its mouth-like maw, the creature was already dragging Annael toward it when William arrived.

Annael cut himself free with a desperate slash of his blade, rolling to his feet with his sword ready. The beast turned its attention to both of them, its intelligence evident in the calculating way it assessed these new threats.

What followed was a desperate battle. Tentacles lashed at both of them - Annael slicing and dodging with the preternatural skill of an Amberite warrior, William letting his blade burn with white flames that seared the creature's flesh in ways its natural regeneration struggled to heal. The beast's claws slammed the ground, sending ripples of energy that tripped William and allowed its tentacle to wrap around his lower leg.

William shifted his flesh, using the fluid transformation of his shapeshifting ability to escape the grip. Annael charged around the creature's flank, unleashing Power Words that enhanced his speed, plunging his sword deep into its side before leaping back from its retaliating strikes.

The creature's tail whipped around with devastating speed, catching Annael and sending him flying through the air to crash hard against the broken ground, lacerating his skin in many places. William used the distraction to press his attack, his flaming blade cutting deep into the beast's throat.

The creature screamed in agony, coughing blood that sizzled where William's white fire had touched it. Its wounds were healing almost immediately - all except the ones William had inflicted, where the divine flames of the Abiding Flame continued to burn.

"We have to leave," Annael shouted, regaining his feet despite what must have been devastating injuries from that blow.

William struck one final blow for the throat, his flaming blade cutting deep, and both men ran - back through the tunnel, back toward the twilight of Ygg's Shadow, leaving the beast gurgling behind them.

Alesha remained unconscious on the ground where she had fallen, blood seeping from her nose and ears. Annael scooped up his sister without breaking stride, and William guided them through Shadow, back toward Bennu's realm where they might find safety and healing.

Behind them, the tunnel to the Prison Realm slowly closed, leaving only questions about what else might dwell in that terrible place - and whether the Children of Savik's request for a meeting might be more important than any of them had realised.

Scattered Across Reality

The group was scattered across the Realms of their existence. Kyle, Joshua, Corin, and Bannoq remained in the Realm of Knowledge, tending to the unconscious Macha, the gravely wounded Delwin, and the stunned Patriarch. The Great Spikard still pulsed with barely contained energy, its rejection of Macha raising questions none of them could yet answer.

William, Alesha, and Annael had fled toward Bennu's realm, bearing the wounds of their encounter with something from the Prison Realm that should never have been disturbed. Alesha's power had proven both formidable and dangerous - capable of piercing the barriers between realms, but at terrible cost, and her control of it, far from adequate.

And somewhere in the depths of the Abyss, Abaddon's permanent manifestation drew ever closer. His demon legions may have been raiding other realities through the Eldritch Maw, growing his army for a war that would shake the foundations of everything they knew. The Patriarch had spoken truly - if Abaddon returned in full, it would be a reality-breaking event.

The Children of Savik awaited their answer about the proposed meeting. The Serpent remained missing, departed from known reality after the death of the Unicorn. The Courts of Chaos teetered on the brink of civil war between Crown and Church which might tear them both apart. And Brand, broken servant of Abaddon, watched from the shadows with whatever remained of his shattered mind - the one who had orchestrated the demon attack on Stålmannen's realm, the one who had somehow survived years in the Abyss, that destroyed all other minds.

Stålmannen remained with Dworkin at the Primal Pattern, learning, growing, his mind processing information millions of times faster than any biological being. Cured of the abyssal taint, he now possessed the potential for Advanced Pattern powers - a wild card in a game where all the pieces were far from positioned.

War was coming. And none of them were ready.