Chapter 637 – For Forever, Until Today
I have successfully identified the manner in which our infiltrators are being identified. Using the Imperial’s own documents, it is a devilishly simple trick. The body is composed of tiny building blocks known as “cells” in their language. These “cells” are unique from species to species. Attached to this document is a collection of pictures found on the Imperial internet, of animal and human cells. They are annotated for readability. Helenna herself has mentioned these tests to me, I can assume that we are composed of our own cells too. With a lens powerful enough, it is obvious that basic cellular differences will be spotted.
Arriving soon should be a set of microscopes for your own use. I do not know if it possible to change one’s shape on such a basic and fundamental level. Nevertheless, we now at least see the net that is being used to catch us. Whereas I will not be against a project that will try to counter this issue, I do not see why the net must be torn through when it can be circumvented instead. The Imperial Health Service as a whole will be difficult to infiltrate. The amount of specialist knowledge required to pull off deceptive camouflage will no doubt be great, however it is not impossible. A more fruitful approach may be to infiltrate their administration. They are fairly efficient in their bureaucracy, it is rare for random, on the spot, checks to suddenly be done. Whether it is a database system, an id pass or a certificate that is being given out within the inner workings of the Empire is unknown, but it may be possible to have a successful operative pre-check new infiltrators through their systems.
Nevertheless, those are only ideas. I regret to inform that Malam and Helenna have been alerted of suspicious activity within Arseille. We are now on a clock. North of the city lay a confluence of leylines that mark it for opening a gateway between our worlds. The city has obviously not been alerted yet, nor do we think that the Empire is aware of this. Rancais was not a front in the first Arascan War back then, our scouts never wandered through that landed. The city has not been evacuated, the presence of the twin Spymasters suggest that they are aware of us, but unaware of the scale at which we operate. The Imperial fleet has been put on lockdown though.
Infiltration will continue nonetheless, into the neighbouring cities as well. If internal transportation can be cut, and if the full offensive works as planned, we will overstretch their lines. Something will give way, either Rilia will fall, Esberia will collapse or we shall open a portal behind their lines.
Whereas only tangentially related, I would like to remind the War Council that they now openly talk of our extermination. Fanaticism is common within the realm, even school children are taught of the current war that is happening. There are apparently even lessons in the ancient methods of discovering succubi: whether through a beastman’s nose or a Cleric’s healing. Likewise The technological difference is borderline-insurmountable, I am in favour of total war to force them forever on the defensive. The Underkingdoms have regained their power, the Empire has shown it is ran by the same minds that masterminded the First Arascan War.
I ask we take their threats not as empty gestures merely to raise morale, but as the future they shall seek. I am quite certain of it.
- Report from Princess Belili, to the Total War Council of Tartarus.
Arascus stood on the shores of a nameless Allian island in the North Sea. It was little more than an exceedingly large collection of rocks in the water, this one had no life bar the migrating gulls, no flora, not even the seals and dolphins would come to visit such a land. Yet months ago, that had changed. A tower of steel struts had been constructed in the distance. Little more than scaffolding which clung onto nothing. Finally, its purpose would be served. A sphere hung within its centre, suspended by thick chains affixed to its tallest points.
And the other side of the island was bustling with activity. Kavaa’s sacred clerics stood at the ready, magicians had been brought in to pull thick stone walls like the one Arascus stood upon now. Behind them was the monitoring the equipment, the countless scientists who wore specialist, dimming goggles. Bottles of drink had been handed out, ready to be opened. Ships idly floated in the dark ocean’s waves, anchored down, far in the distance, to record the spectacle from another angle and to measure the effects of the explosion on the water itself. Small stone huts had been constructed by the magicians too. A single voice called out, not Arascus’, he had only come here to watch and supervise and witness what humanity organised and working could do.
The scheduling had been tight, but he had made it. It needed to be witnessed after all, it could not be missed. A thousand years ago, when Olephia had formed, there had been talk of wielding her power. Nothing had ever come it. Fertilizer could mimic the Goddess of Nature, magicians could mimic the Goddess of Magic, Generals for Kassandora, even rulers could try to embody Arascus. Leona’s Luck could be feigned, there was no Divine that truly had an untouchable demesne. Not a single Divine bar Olephia, forever out of reach, her power completely and uniquely beholden to her.
From forever, for forever, until forever.
Forever ended today.
Arascus had come to witness the test-firing of the O-Bomb.
“Beginning test in ten!” Arascus took a deep breath as he waited. The FP1-N that Baalka and Iniri were trying to seal and give an activation switch to was coming along, but it was far too destructive to be used on this world. There was no way he would ever give permission for it to be fired here. Only a single unit would ever be made. Baalka was correct. Some things were just disasters that were waiting to happen.
“Nine!” The best way for the FP1-N to never misfire was for it to never exist in the first place. They would not have an all-devouring, self-sustaining, forever-hungry disease of flora be released here. It wasn’t even about tarnishing his reputation. That could be recovered. It was the question of whether such a thing could be contained at all.
“EIGHT!” The engineer’s voice grew louder. But this? An O-Bomb? Olephia had used her voice how many times already? Radiation-sickness could be remedied. Destruction could be measured. Areas could be evacuated pre-emptively. Tartarus would give them no quarter, the Empire would give them nothing in return.
“SEVEN!” Olephia’s power, once so mystical, was now primed within that small ball in the tower. It was smaller than Arascus, smaller than Olephia even. Barely larger than a man. He had received the rundown on how it worked. A split core of uranium would be combined by an explosive. That was all he understood of the science so far, there would be a time to learn it. Right now, with the Empire in a state of total war, was not the time.
“SIX!” Arascus stared at the steel tower in the distance. If they could harness the same energy used when she spoke, it would fundamentally change the rules of warfare. Kassandora would be told immediately. Elassa’s thirty-thousand-mile ritual would have more time. The land-bridges could be broken from high altitude. The weapon could be upgraded once the first tests had been ran. They would put an end to warfare in the classical sense. Olephia had always been constrained because Olephia was just one Goddess. She could be evaded, she could be outran.
“FIVE!” But if they managed to mass-produce her power? If they could mount it on the Star missiles? Even dropping it from high-altitude was good enough at this point. The same bombers that had been used in Demonfall could set off from Norje, fly over the flood of ash trying to swallow Arda at this point. The cost was minimal.
“FOUR!” Arascus took a deep breath and calmed himself. His mind was running away at this point. There was no point of hoping for things that didn’t exist yet. The Empire had not managed to send man into space either, that project had been put on stall by the war. And they still had Ashen Skies to deal with. The Sassara could not simply be carpeted by these bombs and irradiated into lifelessness. Likewise, Alanktyda would complain if they started to make the ocean lifeless. Testing was one thing, warfare was a matter, but turning the planet into a lifeless rock was not on the list of things Arascus wanted to be remembered for.
“THREE!” He was running away again, his mind racing into hypotheticals. It was obvious why. There was no need for introspection to know that it was the Divine of Empire that was doing this to him. Helenna and Malam, tasked with its finding, had been stalled after an issue relating to the war had turned up. Arseille was under threat and the O-Bomb, even if it worked, could not be used on that city. The Empire would not suddenly be turning its population into dust.
“TWO!” Would warfare even change that much? That was an easier question to ask and answer than Of Empire. It would change like with the invention of the steel plate, the taming of the horse, like with mass conscription, like with the rifle, the cannon, the airplane. It would change greatly, and nothing would ever replace the simple fact of the matter that occupation was defined by living Imperial boots on the ground. Kassandora would not run off with this weapon, Arascus would not let her. Annihilation was one of the few concepts that was far easier in practice than it was in theory. Winning only to reign over a pile of ashes was worth than losing in the first place.
“ONE!” So Arascus waited, ten measly seconds felt as if they stretched on for an entire millennia. Ten measly seconds, followed by another that stretched on for infinity. For a moment of eternity, the wind howled, the sea roared and splashed, men held their breathes, a flock of birds overhead kept on with their shrill cries, ships in the distance recorded the event, scientists and engineers and technicians crossed their fingers and braced, and Arascus, for once, did not think of anything at all.
“FIRE!” The engineer shouted. An ignition lever was pulled, as was another. For the smallest instant, as electrical current ran down the thin wires to that tower, the world stopped moving. And in the next, that tower was gone. The sphere was gone. That entire side of the island conjured up a false sun not by the might of magic, nor by the runes of dwarf, nor even by the delusions of sorcery, but by the cold advance of wire and steel, chemistry and physics, bureaucracy and organisation.
Arascus stared at the sight, speechless as he watched that explosion retreat. He felt the heat that always came with Olephia’s words wash over him, then the wind that slammed into him like the world’s largest battering ram. It had been done. The atom was split. The world released its breath to the sound of awe and cheer and clinking glasses that was barely audible over the rumble of an explosion that tried to impersonate an avalanche. The column of smoke and debris and ash and every else that the bomb had torn up began to rise, fires still raging as Arascus stared into its centre.
Unbelievable.
Even a few years ago, he would have never said that mankind would have the strength to impersonate the power of the greatest Divine. Yet there it was… It was undeniable, it was clear, it was certain. Olephia’s fire, created and channelled by humanity. Olephia’s words, spoken not by the Goddess of Chaos & Uncreation, but by the inventions of humanity. He took a deep breath, staring at the mushroom cloud in the distance. The heat was still there, as was the thunderous wind, but it did not matter. The God of Pride stood there, staring up at the bulbous dust in the air and saw a new era staring down at him.
The Era of Arda standing tall, standing alone, and standing shadowed in the certainty of the nuclear hellfire that would be its blade.