8.01 Volume 8 Prologue
January 2026
“How strange. The architecture outside reminds me of Capitolium, but it is clearly built by lesser beings. Like an imitation of an imitation,” Erebus expressed his distaste as he looked outside the window.
His nephew and stepson, Moros, sat in an armchair, drinking an alcoholic beverage with a sphere of ice for cooling, while smoking one of the humans’ so-called cigars. The room they were in was gaudy beyond all definitions of taste, with the flag of the nation they were currently in displayed across almost the entire wall, like it wasn’t enough that it was on an estimated dozen flag poles outside of the window already.
Paintings of humans he didn’t recognize were on another wall, apparently important people to the founding of this nation, but he didn’t care much about the history of this world. It and its inhabitants were mere hindrances on his quest for all-encompassing unification, as far as he was concerned.
“As far as I understand, it is exactly that, uncle,” Moros commented after he took another sip of his ‘whiskey’. There was even a glass that was meant for Erebus, but it remained untouched.
“For this world, this isn’t the first time that we crossed paths with them. For us there will be a second time – assuming that our plans don’t come to fruition,” he carefully added that last part to avoid invoking his uncle’s wrath.
“There were two civilizations, the Hellenes and the Romans, who were shaped by our hand. And after we were gone, their legacy still lived on in the minds of men. There were many who fancied themselves their successors, and this country is just the latest on the long and ever-growing list of failed attempts to mimic the greatness of a Deogemma-led nation in the shape of Capitolium.”
“Do not praise the capital too much, lest I think you actually admire my nephew Zeus,” Erebus spoke with a scoff, and he saw Moros grinning into his glass. He walked away from the window and sat down in the armchair opposite his nephew. He didn’t like to admit it, but resting like this was balm for his aching body, which still felt the injuries the High King inflicted on him.
“You really should find a human to possess like I did, uncle. Even though this world is now filled with magical energies thanks to the partial merger, there is no telling how much you can sustain your body by feasting upon those energies alone,” Moros cautioned him, but Erebus made a dismissive gesture.
“I will not sully myself by merging with a beast. I’ll leave that to Zeus’ children and others, nephew,” Erebus retorted sharply, and he could swear he saw Moros roll his eyes behind the sunglasses he wore even indoors. He decided to let it slide and continued the conversation instead.
“But enough of the banter. We lost Fames and Fraus, together with your machines in the world of elves and augmented men. More than a decade of whispering into those worlds’ leaders’ ears has come to an end, and I do hope it wasn’t in vain.”
“It wasn’t, uncle. Even by being destroyed, they moved our plans forward. The world is awash with magic, people are afraid and willing to give up their freedoms for ‘security’, and our collaborators will soon have free reign, you will see.”
Erebus scoffed again, then he shook his head.
“Please tell me your pawns are more competent than that woman Morpheus transformed.”
“I have multiple at my disposal. One is a deeply pathetic man, true, but his material wealth is the greatest asset one can command in this world. The other is deeply loyal and fit to wield the might of all the worlds in my name.”
“That fanatic you showed me once?”
“The very same.”
“You ought to be careful that the lies you fed her won’t come back to haunt you. Never forget that you’re one of the ‘pagan gods’ she swore to annihilate in ‘your’ name.”
“Oh, please. She is too blind to see that truth,” Moros replied with a dismissive gesture, then he looked up as he heard a knock at the door. A young human woman poked her head inside, speaking in an apologetic tone.
“Senator, your transport is at the front door. Whenever you are ready…?”
Moros nodded and stood up.
“We were about done anyway,” he declared and grinned towards Erebus.
“Time to do my human work,” he spoke, moving to the door.
“What are you doing, anyway?” Erebus asked with some interest. He never took much time to ask his nephew about his machinations in detail.
“I’m going to the Capitol to vote on a pressing issue.”
“What sort of pressing issue?”
“It does involve the freedoms for our collaborators that I mentioned earlier, uncle. We will vote on a bill with which our grand and glorious empire will allow itself to police the otherworldly incidents of other countries. And that is why I love this nation so much: which other power would have the audacity?”
Moros sat at the back of a black limousine, watching the buildings of Washington, D.C. pass him by. He took these little moments to relax and focus, but it wasn’t meant to be today.
First the talk with his uncle, now he got a call from his terribly annoying minion. The screen in the middle of the isolated passenger cabin lit up, and the enraging sight of that ghoul’s visage marred its surface.
Nevertheless, that creature’s money and connections were valuable tools in this world, so he decided to humor it and pushed the green button to pick up the call.
“Drake. Have you come to report your progress?”
The beady-eyed man on the other side of the call looked at Moros with a mixture of fear and barely hidden rage at the fact that he had to answer to him.
Noel Drake, richest man in the world, so utterly desperate to be seen as a genius that he was constantly bouncing around between promises of space colonization and full machine intelligence that would take over all manual labor. For the past twenty years, either of these concepts had been only five years away, according to his yearly interviews on the matter.
“I- no, not quite, Senator Morris. Don’t worry, things are proceeding! And now with all the visitors, things will be much faster, of course, but the biggest concentration of them is in Japan, as is the biggest concentration, of… erm…” he stuttered, dragging out the last bit of his sentence as if he feared that speaking those words alone would emasculate him.
“…Magical Girls. They’re constantly getting in the way.”
“You have agents for that, don’t you? I introduced you to a lot of capable hands from other worlds,” Moros spoke sharply, and he saw the trillionaire flinch. “I gave you everything you could ever need! Political connections, and nigh-impenetrable defenses for your installation employing both the mighty US Navy and the veil of Nox herself! If you cannot work with what I’ve given you, I’m severely starting to doubt your competence, Drake!”
The pathetic little man squirmed some more, and Moros considered himself satisfied for now. He opened a little compartment and pulled out a mirror, together with a silicone patch matching his exact skin color and began his work to cover up his Deogemma crystal on his forehead. Not everyone in the Senate was in the know about him just yet, after all. He could use magic to obscure the gemstone, of course, but he liked the personal touch of manual handiwork.
“I’ll… redouble my efforts! If your family keeps the attacks coming, then my agents can continue to move freely as they please, and we’ll have enough fodder for the machine, soon.”
“Good. I guess I’ll tell my siblings to send more of their creatures to provide cover for you,” Moros commented absentmindedly, applying a base to mask where the silicone patch began and where his forehead ended.
“But just in case, I will send our top agent as well. And if today’s vote goes through, then she’ll even be able to appear in an official capacity.”
“…the fanatic?”
“The very same. Now get back to your duties, Drake, and I will do the same.”
“…very well,” the man grumbled and disconnected the call, as the limousine approached Capitol Hill.
If only he knew… maybe I will tell him, right before the end, just to see the look in his eyes.