Chapter 651 – Cornered Rats
The idea came about from the fact that fortresses create their own spirits. This is certain knowledge. Likewise, other major landmarks do the same. In fact, this phenomena of landmarks birthing their own spirit is so common that it is difficult to find a location in Epa that does not host a spirit. Throughout my travels across Arda, this repeats. Whereas it is not every city, it is every city relevant enough to appear on a map. The distinction has to be made, Guguo, which is highly centralized, writes off locations with fifty thousand souls as a mere township. They are rarely known outside of their own province. Likewise, through central Epa, we see “cities” that do not possess Divines even though they seemingly have enough people to create one.
Yet we see Divines of mountain passes, of lighthouses, we see cities with multiple Divines within them. Some schools, such as Camford, even possess a representative spirit. There is seemingly no correlation between these, save for the most base and banal similarities. The most base of these is whether they are important enough to appear on most maps. A town, host to a prince who fashions themselves a duke or duchess, has no reason to be known when it is within a days march of several other towns. Camford, one of the most respected educational institutions, the first school opened after Worldbreaking, has one.
Thus, we generally ascribe the location to need some fame. Yet the fortress phenomena breaks the trend. The rule is universal for fortresses, they are places of safety, they always have a Divine within them. Always. One has to get to the levels of singular keeps without outer fortifications, or lone towers in the woods, and even then, it is more common to encounter a spirit that will shelter any soul from the night than not. Larger forts even have their Divines incarnate before construction is finished.
There is no theory about Divinity that predicts this, nor any that take into account. Nevertheless, I do not think that there needs to be one. Theories are treated as rigid rules yet humans are not rigid souls. Man may learn from their own mistakes, yet does the next generation have to repeat the mistakes of their forefathers to not repeat them?
My proposal is not one of trying to rewrite Divinity’s rules. Rather it is to re-apply them to themselves. Just as humanity learns from itself, these rules then adapt to themselves. Fortresses are sacred places, for they hold protection and refuge and safety, their presence in human consciousness grows, until they go through Apotheosis and awaken a spirit of themselves. Yet humanity is aware of this spirit, thus making the next incarnation easier. Certain homes possess spirits too, although not every home. Why?
Because not every home deserves a spirit safeguarding it, because some homes are private, for humans only and because humans do not unconsciously actually wish to live with a Divine pet around them. Yet every fortress, to truly be safe, requires a spirit. The consciousness that has governed Divinity has looked at itself, adapted around itself, and built a rule that only exists because of its own previous rules.
In this fashion, no rule was broken. Divinity is simply, stunted as it is, simply projects its own unbending nature onto the ever-changing human soul.
- Excerpt from “Dilemmas of Divinity”, written by God Saranael, of Knowledge. Dated to several centuries before the Great War.
Malam took a deep breath as she walked through the streets of Aris. Her black boots devoured the pavement, her white hair flowed in the wind like the rolling waves of an ocean just before a storm. The coat made her a silhouette of white and black, its striking detail the glinting metal of the pistol on her side. Her phone was buzzing with notifications, it was all the numerous agents of the SIS Office-Aris who were confirming they had gotten her message to move out. Or maybe they weren’t, Malam didn’t particularly care what they were doing. She had sent the message out, it was up to them to find a way to get across the city in the thirty minutes it had taken her to walk here from Helenna’s hotel room.
She turned the final corner to the street from which the explosion had come. As always, her father’s Empire did not disappoint. Already, the local police had closed off this road. Lines of white and blue cars, their sirens off but their lights still flashing were parked to prevent entrance to the street. Tape had been put up, two of the special weapons team were already here, in huge black vans and already armoured up, Malam picked out the local captain hunched over a map that had been unfurled across the hood of his car as he explained the layout of the building to other officers. Tape blocked off the sidewalks on either side, under which civilians still being evacuated from the city blocks were still escaping.
Although there were some civilians cars coming in too. Men simply drove up to the barrier, stepped out, already dressed in full black uniform, and showed off a badge before retrieving their rifles. Those were her SIS. Malam chuckled to herself, it was always satisfying to see her own troops put civilians in their damn place. She sauntered towards the barrier, her steps becoming faster, her smile almost gleeful. One long leg over the tape, then the other, no need to even jump. No need to even be checked. Everyone knew who the Imperial Princess was, she had appeared on at least every TV station at least a dozen times already.
The captain with the map ran up to her. The bullet-proof vest on him would do little against succubi flames, ease of movement was simply better. Likewise, the short sleeves spoke of a complete ignorance of what exactly he was going up against. He tried to open his mouth, a pair of pitch-black eyes stopped whatever stupid words were going to leave his mouth. Malam looked down at the police officer. “I see you have the force on alert.”
“We do Goddess.” At least the reply came quickly. “We are-“
“This situation is under SIS command.” Malam said. “Hold the perimeter, we are going in.” The officer blinked at her for a moment. He obviously wanted to argue. Malam smiled at him, now she got curious. What sort of ideas had this fool cooked up in that mind of his? Surely he did not think that whatever scheme he managed to fumble into would be better than what she had planned? “Unless you have a plan captain?”
That got a sigh of relief. “We are drafting up a plan now.” He said, turning to the where the map was on the hood of his squad car. “There’s three main entrances on the ground floor, those are sec-“
Malam shut him down immediately. “And if they’re crafting a portal in there? Will you wait until Asmodeus shows up in Aris?” He turned to Malam, his mouth in a circle. Malam stared at him and saw the sheer, bewildered confusion of a fellow who did not even who Asmodeus was. “Time is of the essence. As I said, the situation is under SIS command, we will flush them out. You will shoot down any who try to fly away.”
The captain’s eyes bulged. “Shoot?”
“What else were you planning to do with shapeshifters that command fire and know they’re in danger?”
No answer. Of course there wasn’t. What sort of good answer was there that wasn’t just shooting on sight? The man nodded and backed away, his gaze leaving Malam only to fall to the ground. A whistle brought the men of the SIS over to Malam. All of them were in their dark uniforms, with long coats and caps. Rifles slung over their backs, pistols at the ready. A few had brought knives. One man brought grenades. Good to know that they were settling into the fact that the army was providing weapons for them now. “Captain Matinet, reporting for duty.” The closest man said with a professional, Imperial salute. Straight backed, all the movement locked to just the joints of his arm, his eyes steady and dark. The man had no hair on his head though.
Twenty-two men of the Aris Office had made it in time. That was more than enough. “Who here was Second Expedition?” Half the men stepped forward. Malam actually recognised one of them, a Major Bunel who she had mission objectives to when it got time to clear out the succubi they had under watch. His eyes were green, but save for the difference in colour, they had the exact same sort of resigned look to them as did Matinet’s. “You, follow me, we are going through the front door. The rest, keep watch and make sure that nothing runs through. Civilians are to be quarantined and held for blood-cell testing.”
A few of the local police turned to Malam although none raised argument. It was standard policy against succubi, she wasn’t going to allow them to sacrifice a few pawns in order to let the big pieces escape. Of Hatred turned towards the apartment block that the succubi had stormed. The door had been blasted open by fire, it still held scorch marks around the edges and a few of the windows on the ground floor were smashed, although it looked like the glass was on the outside. Presumably from people trying to get out rather than in. Save for that damage, it was like any over beautiful, Arisian building, the walls were tall, the windows finely adorned with masonry, pillars had been carved into the yellow stone to give the building an illusion of being supported, all the way to the copper roof, now blue from time. Malam wasn’t here for sightseeing though, she pointed to the door. “Matinet, lead the way.”
Captain Matinet led first, his rifle drawn, he swept corners and gave callsigns out that were ripped straight from the Imperial Military. Malam did not worry about the specifics of such things, nor did she care. Kassandora’s methods worked, so she wasn’t going to try and upend her sister out of sheer ego that she could run an effective army better than the Goddess of War. She could no doubt, but there simply wasn’t years of planning and testing when Kassie’s methods were good enough.
Bunel stalked behind him, covering the doors and rooms easily, sweeping as if it was they still soldiers fighting in the Second Expedition. The rest of the team followed, as did Malam, bending down to get through the doorways and thanking the stars above that she wasn’t the height of Fer. She only needed to just bend her head, and back slightly. One arms always rested on the pistol. Her eyes shot to the dark, her ears were steady.
It was silent in here save for the crying upstairs. Children crying with parents shushing them. The sound was faint though, as if the floor immediately above them had been immediately abandoned. Odd. That was the first sign. The rhythmic tapping of water was no surprise, the emergency sprinklers in the corridors, in case of fire, had been deployed. Then melted through to close them. Several of the doors were charred though. The officer’s boots and Malam’s own squelched whenever anyone took a step on the carpet. The smell of water had not yet turned into dampness, it was much too fresh for that. And that horrendous reeking of burned metal was still here. Char as well. Many of the doors had been singed, some were broken through. Burned human had a smell that Malam could recognise all too well.
This was why the SIS had gone in and not the police. It had to be members of the Second Expedition, those would be accustomed to it. Malam watched her own soldiers come to a stop before the staircase. “Down.” She said. It was obvious, the men themselves would have obviously made the choice too. “Rear pair stays on watch.” She should have flipped the commands but she wasn’t Kassandora now, was she?
The staircase up, although everything ruined by the sprinklers going off, looked undamaged. Even the wallpapers had not started peeling off the walls yet. The stairs down looked in a far worse state. They were charred and blackened and twisted by heat. It was almost disappointing, Malam expected more from Tartarus’ spies that had somehow managed to evade detection in Arseille for so long as to control that city. Maybe it was a trap?
“Matinet, you’re on point.” Malam’s voice sent the man down the staircase. Bunel waited for him to get to the bottom, look around, then call back up.
“Safe but lights out.” He brought out a torch as the unit came following in. Malam had to bend even further in this staircase, it was obviously to the utilities, no one in their right mind would ever consider sending a Divine down to inspect the plumbing.
Maybe the succubi were smart after all. Maybe they simply did not think just how petty Malam was. If they found a hole to the ends of the world, she would follow them purely out of spite for the sheer crime of thinking they could outdo her. Matinent disappeared through the doorway, rifle held at the ready. Bunel followed. The rest of the team did. Malam came last, she gave one final flick of her head to check behind her. The pair on rear-watch were still there, rifles drawn, pointed upwards at the staircase.
Inside, at least the ceiling was higher. It was the block’s basement though, there was nothing interesting here. Just pipes and levers and buttons. Most of them had been warped through heat. The concrete bore signs of it too, it was dry and warm to the touch still. Malam saw Matinet turn a corner and tense, he steadied his gun and pointed it too low to be at a person.
A hole then? Escape hatch? Into the sewers? Malam rolled her eyes. Of course. Those, a Divine definitely could not fit through. It was a good move. She would up-end this city. She turned…
A hole indeed, not into the sewers though, but through the concrete. Burned, or rather, melted through. That explained all the warping from the heat, it must have gotten to hundreds of degrees in here. The floor was charred around it too, the concrete was wet, any water that touched it quickly began to shrink and evaporate. Malam took a deep breath. “At ease and approach.” Maybe that wasn’t the correct terminology, she didn’t care too much.
The team approached, Malam slowly moved with them. She had not survived for thousands of years only to fall prey to such an obviously poor choice. “Flashlight! Light it up” Malam shouted. One of her officers brought out a flashlight and shown it inside. There was obviously a tunnel dug there, the concrete, it’s thin steel bars reinforcing it had been melted through, then soil, charred black. The drop was at least thirty metres, easily three floors deep. They must have used just cooked the soil in to dust. At the bottom of the drop, there was a pile of what looked to be dried stone, still baking and shimmering with heat, although it had set already. The SIS officer held the torch on it for a few moments, then began to look around.
Stone. Ancient sandstone. The sort of ancient sandstone that was centuries old at least. Malam’s eyes didn’t care for the skulls on the walls, nor the cold air blowing through it. Her eyes just noticed the immediate details that spoke of danger: a noticeable lack of the old grey dust, although that may have been hidden by the amount of dirt down there, no spiderwebs in the corners neither, no smell of faeces either. That last one carried in enclosed locations. “What are we looking at?” Malam asked, her mind running through the various scenarios. She should have studied the maps of Aris but who had the time for that? There were better things to spend her time on, the only she was sure of is that these weren’t modern sewers.
And that wherever the succubi that had gone into here went, they had gone far. There hadn’t been even an inkling of orange glow from flame. Instead, wherever the torch didn’t shine, it seemed to absorb the light utterly. “Goddess, it looks like the Aris Catacombs.”
“We’ve lost them.” Another man said.
“Should we prepare a party?”
Malam stood there, her eyes wide. Her knees refusing to move. She knew of them, from a thousand years past. Aris always had madmen living in it who liked to bury their dead. The catacombs were so expansive that it was thought they served as Worldbreaking-Era bunkers, or even before that. Some theorists even went back as far as to date them to the Age of Monsters, or that the original holes were laid by the roots of Age of Gaia flora. They had a history already, and it was a mysterious history.
She stared at that molten rock. And they had just done it. They had pushed… however many succubi in. They had come from a house of corpses up above. And… It took a few moments, Malam’s breath caught as she felt all the gears click in her mind. This test had been ran. She had been there, with Arascus, with Kassandora. They had proven…
Demons. Demons in the deep. Shapeshifters. That was certainty. The number was unknown. It was the perfect breeding ground for everything her father talked about. If this got out… Apotheosis. “I have to get to Helenna.” She turned around. “STOP ALL POLICE! DON’T SAY A WORD ABOUT THIS! NOT TO FUCKING ANYONE!”