“There is no trap so deadly as the one you set for yourself.” -Raymond Chandler, Long Goodbye
Pirugan Continent
Castle of Satan
The Divine Queen, Hera, strode down the long hallway with more than a bit of trepidation in her step. The padding of her knee-high armour echoed with a hampered dissonance as if trapped and released from a sealed space.
Tendrils of darkness crept between the cracks of the obsidian walls and followed her movements. She'd never traversed the chambers beneath the castle, and the malevolent presence she was warned of resided in its deepest recesses. Its aura was heavy, and the cold touch of the sentient dark prodded her lavender skin as if testing her wavering composure.
She felt the false air of calm begin to slip away. It was irritating how quickly one's emotions transformed in the face of the unknown.
Hera bit her lower lip and crossed both arms over her chest as a chill ran through her.
Dammit. If only Satan had stolen Pandora's box, she thought.
The failed attack at Caramoc Cove brought the Legion monsters to this desperate situation. The Players might have been an expendable asset if they succeeded. But they hadn't expected the Guardian monsters to adjust their strategy in such a swift matter.
After what seemed like an eternity, the hallway widened substantially, and Hera found herself standing before a massive wall of stone native to the abyss. It was stone that did not belong in this world, but it was here thanks to the dark force that lurked beyond.
The black caricthmian armor she wore scoured through her underclothes, coarse and harsh against her skin, as the air grew heavy and damp. She removed an elaborate circlet from her head and let it vanish from her hands, which released her brunette and red hair that flowed down the full length to her waist. It revealed a pair of elongated horns that actually managed to make her appearance even more divine and seductive. Her smooth, black-scaled tail slid stiff along the floor to mirror her apprehension.
Hera scowled when she attempted to distract herself by adjusting the breastplate that was far too tight; but then again, this part was nothing new. It was difficult to forge armor that actually fit properly to her alluring figure and unique taste.
A breath of air escaped her. "Control. Control," she whispered.
The steady chant failed when Hera noticed the glimmer of sweat on her arms. She cursed her body's honesty, but there was nothing else to be done. Sitting and brooding would only serve to feed the unease.
With that realization, she placed her hand at the very center of the wall, and a thin vertical line appeared that extended to the floor and ceiling. The two separated slabs of rock opened inward with a groan of resistance and plunged Hera into an even deeper darkness.
Hera hesitated before taking that first step into the chamber. The bit of light from the hallway was unable to pierce the black void.
To hell with these Players. And to hell with Metatron and her damn Guardian monsters.
Hera willed herself forward, stepped onto the unseen floor and proceeded into the consuming darkness. The air was silent. Even her footsteps were unheard as she strode forward with an even pace. It was as if the world had been put on mute.
As she considered this thought a swirl of chill wind closed in. The cold was fleeting, but the soreness of her limbs convinced her that it was something more.
Sound returned. The harsh scrape of her caricthmian heels echoed along the stone as if hugging it close and dear. Her breathing labored as the air thickened.
An inky blackness opened up and admitted her into another hidden expanse that glowed with a dim red light. The source emitted from a small, pulsing orb with crimson rings. Hundreds upon hundreds of stalagmites and stalactites thrust from the ground and ceiling, disappearing into the darkness beyond what the orb of light could not penetrate. Flat stone slabs protruded from all areas of the chamber around the spikes of rock. Dust swirled at random points of the room from an unseen wind that shouldn't have existed in a place sealed from the outside world.
Hera noticed a group of god monsters, her comrades, sitting around the red orb.
She recognized Satan's massive form bent over the glowing orb. One of his hands rested open with trails of energy seeping from it, feeding the orb.
The second individual was a knight in heavy black armor tending to a long broadsword. His hand moved methodically up and down the weapon as he switched between various reinforcement techniques. The helmet's thin visor remained undeterred as Hera approached.
Sitting behind the knight on one of the jutting stone slabs was a female with folded raven-like wings. Her black hair hung low to the small of her back with an elaborate, violet circlet resting on her head. The bright flowers clipped to either side of her head contrasted strikingly with the burgundy armor she wore. Stockings of armored fabric covered her legs that crossed in a meditative pose. Her arms, also covered in multi-layered caricthmian, rested on her knees in a stance that expressed obvious boredom.
Standing next to Satan was the final individual with a heavy hood pulled up over his head. His sharp, jagged armor was practically a part of his body. The pauldrons were forged into the shape of dragon feet, and his full multi-layered, caricthmian armor complimented them like dragon scales through his ragged cloak. Propped up in one of his hands was an enormous scythe with three intricate, and disturbingly realistic, dog heads at the base of the blade. The eyes of the steel Cerberus glowed a deep yellow like a brimming fire.
What made Hera uneasy about him was his seeming lack of countenance. The hint of a mouth could be seen, but just barely since his cloak was pulled up over the lower half of his bone mask-of-a-face (she was unsure if what he wore was a mask or if it was his actual face). His eyes were also unreadable. They were like the eyes of a beast, with the smaller eye in his forehead forever unmoving. The black, curved ink designs around his eyes made their contrasting crystal blue color even more prominent.
Only one of Hera's comrades came to greet her as she approached the glowing orb. The woman with the raven wings dropped the few feet to the ground and greeted her with a nod.
“It's good to see you, Hera,” she said, a slight tremor in her sweet voice.
“You as well, Persephone,” Hera replied.
The deep voice of Satan interrupted them, “Everyone is present.”
Persephone addressed the cloaked individual next to Satan, “What is he talking about, Hades? There are so few of us here.”
The one named Hades shook his head. “Indeed. Many of us are too far scattered throughout the continent to assemble. A few who were once among us have been removed from the covenant as well.”
Hera smirked. “I'm guessing Beelzebub is one of them?”
“He was a liability." Satan scoffed. "My only regret is that I was unable to crush his twisted brain. Sick and demented little runt.”
As Satan finished his mutterings, the orb beneath his hand dimmed. The void around them drew closer and melded into the stone. Hera felt the same presence from before. The dark tendrils slithered along the stone and combined to create an even deeper darkness. The last of the inky black merged, and all around them the cavern vanished. The red orb only illuminated the individuals who stood around it.
A disembodied, mechanical voice resounded in the darkness, “I am pleased that all of you were able to convene at this critical hour.”
The dark knight who was reinforcing his sword stopped his work and rose. Hera was unable to see him camouflaged in the darkness, and she jumped in surprise as he appeared in the circle. She let out a low curse as she composed herself. The dark knight shrugged an apology.
Satan waved one of his six hands dismissively. “Enough with these formalities, Abyssal. Why did you summon us?”
“Best make it quick,” Hades added, folding his arms over his chest. “The Players will be arriving at their Departure Towers.”
The darkness seemed to shift with irritation at their ill-mannered tone. It wasn't that this shift was seen, but felt.
“Very well,” the Abyssal responded after a brief silence. “I have summoned you all here to provide information regarding the next few months that follow this recent Reversion.”
Hera leaned forward expectantly in anticipation of the Abyssal's next words. Persephone mimicked her movement while Hades, Satan and the black knight stood still and silent.
“I will no longer be able to assist you with intelligence concerning your enemies' whereabouts,” the Abyssal continued.
Satan cursed under his breath at this news, and Hades simply shook his head. They had all expected this eventuality. The very existence of The Reversion displayed the power of the Creators. The monsters' loss of power was another signal that indicated their lack of control.
“So the Creators have control of everything now? Is that it?” Persephone asked.
The rest of them stared into the darkness for confirmation.
“The Creators do not necessarily have control of this world.”
No one was able to conceal their shock at this statement. For those whose faces were concealed, their shift in stance was more than enough to reveal their surprise.
“What do you mean?” Hera asked.
“The Reversion was not enacted by the current Creators. In actuality, this Reversion was set to occur at a certain time by a specific Creator, one who is now deceased. As you are aware, it is set to revert all monsters back to their original states of power. It is the final preparation for the arrival of the Players.”
Hera considered the Abyssal's words. So, it wasn't started manually?
“You say that the work of The Reversion was not done by the Creators, yet you also state that a specific Creator is the cause of it," Hades said. "What's to stop the others from creating another?”
“It is because the other Creators do not know how to initiate another Reversion.”
Hera stared blankly into the darkness. She observed her comrades and noticed the same stillness from all of them. They had all been painstakingly forming plans around the possibility that the Creators were watching them, always waiting to intervene. One wrong move and they would wield their power to reverse not only their strength, but perhaps the world, or even shift time and space.
Are the other Creators really so powerless? Hera wondered.
The Abyssal interrupted their thoughts, “This world, and its denizens, are currently beyond their influence. The Creators are limited and are only able to regulate the one with true knowledge and control of the Players.”
Hades asked the pertinent question, “If the Creators aren't in control, then who is?”
The Abyssal answered, “My sister, Lo.”
