• Hogwarts, Headmaster's Tower, Laboratory •
• October 15th, 12:25 PM •
[Albus Dumbledore]
Sitting at the small desk in the corner of my lab, I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, pressing my eyes to ease the needle-like stabbing sensation behind them.
My body shone with a golden hue as I used my Bright Lord essence to ease the headache and pain, but for naught.
This was a soul-deep phantom pain. A consequence of my latest stunt.
'...and this fucking flickering isn't helping,' I complained, swinging my arm in a half-hearted attempt to swat away the minimized Archive screen that kept flashing red every few seconds.
'I should have known Murphy was preparing something big.'
Really, there's no excuse for this. I remember the stories, the fanfictions I used to read in my past life—showing very clearly that just as things appear to be moving smoothly, something big comes along and messes everything up all over again.
'I should have remembered that. I didn't, and now this happened.,
Still, I at least now have more information than I ever did, I consoled myself, knowing full well that even with this information, I'd have to squint real hard to see the silver lining.
I groaned as vertigo washed over me, the memories of the last two hours flashing through my head once again.
'I really should have improvised instead of going through all that hell.'
Said hell was the result of asking a simple question: Why isn't my time magic working? An innocent enough question from a purely academic perspective.
A question that led me to comb through a ton of data in the Archive, checking for irregularities in space-time that I hadn't noticed or been alerted to—due to their nature or a million other reasons.
The data were so jumbled that it took ten minutes just to make sense of them. Turns out, space-time was behaving so erratically that it would have been easier for me to understand if it was doing gymnastics instead of whatever it was doing…
'Something like that shouldn't be happening unless there's outside interference'. And that should have been my first clue. I didn't get a notification despite the situation, and that should have been my second.
Nevertheless, I was not one to back down from a challenge. So to figure out what was actually happening in real time, I decided to leverage my new existential status as a Primordial and fledgling divine—something I really don't like doing because of how exposed and out of control that state makes me feel.
Still, I steeled myself and did it. I stood up, walked a few steps, sat down on the cold stone floor—more for the ceremonial sentiment than necessity—took a deep breath, and for lack of a better term, tried to re-establish my connection with the world.
I was not ready for that…
The first few minutes felt weird and frustrating. Like trying to return to a dream that had been abruptly broken. It took perseverance and complete stillness of thought to reach that state—the one I'd felt when I gained my status as a Primordial.
I succeeded… and that's when hell started.
The second I felt the connection snap back into place, there was a brief moment of absolute silence followed by a small buzzing sound, accompanied by a strange friction. Odd, but I ignored it.
That's when all hell broke loose.
Just as I adjusted to the state—the feeling of being bare and oddly exposed passing like an afterthought—the buzzing turned into high-pitched static. Different sounds began to assault my ears. Gag-inducing sounds of rubber being forcefully, loudly, and intentionally dragged through ceramic. Nails across hard surfaces. Squeaky, unknown screeching…
It felt like something was purposefully blasting me with the most obnoxious noise known to man. And that's not counting the visuals. Oh, the visuals. Flashes of psychedelic hues, bizarre shapes and colors that no sane and sober man could ever imagine. They seemed designed to disorient me further. It would probably have felt better if someone was scrambling their fingers in my brain instead.
The sensation, though, was maddening—like an itch I could not scratch and ants crawling across my very soul—but I endured. Through pure willpower, I continued.
I don't know how long that torture lasted, but I believe it was more than half an hour. At least. And just as I managed to adapt—or more accurately, ignore the escalating feeling of madness that was the result—everything clicked. Like puzzles connecting, I suddenly saw and understood what was happening. From a third, omniscient point of view, I observed and grasped the underlying machinations of what was taking place and why.
I knew, instinctively, deep in my being, that this was what the lazy ROB had been delaying. This was what 'Idiot A' had done that was so unforgivable. It wasn't just his impudence—the act of trying to merge different worlds—that got him erased.
It was how he went about the whole thing. How he forced rules that didn't conform with the laws and nature of the worlds. How he tried to play creator god—a role clearly not assigned to him, as evidenced by the current state—and stitch different things and settings together like a mad dark wizard creating an ultimate chimera monster.
It was also at that moment that I wished this fucker was still alive, just so I could erase him myself. It was at that very moment that I prayed:
"ROB, thank you for erasing that shit stain."
I remember saying that, while inwardly wondering how natural selection hadn't done him in while it could.
Or maybe it did…
I chuckled inwardly and sighed at my predicament. The new information helped me update my assumptions of how the new world would form.
I already knew the three-world merge was going to create a new one, rather than simply mixing and blending the existing ones. Now I knew how. And I also understood very clearly why my mission was to save at least half of my world's population.
That son of a bitch 'Idiot A' clearly had some dungeons, monsters, and adventure-type shit in mind when he did this.
That meant instead of just defending against the monsters, devils, youkai, and all the bullshit from these two other worlds, I also needed to defend against the new types that would keep forming…
New types of monsters that are under no influence from our three worlds. These are the creatures and monsters of the new one. The one that is currently forming. The one we were all in, yet were not at the same time.
A very Schrödinger's cat situation that left me with more questions than answers—but one thing was very clear:
These are the results and consequences of one idiot's attempt to play GOD… and this merger is going to be a headache for all of us…
I smiled. Silver lining and all that.
'Ugh. Just remembering makes my head throb.' I groaned as I snapped out of my flashback-like feeling, opening the Archive that kept pulsating red at the edge of my vision, and started to think of how to manage the situation.
"I already made sure only those with sufficient levels of knowledge and power would be alerted first… especially about the fact that apparition is off limits for now," I muttered as I stood up and started heading out. "Now I just need to think about how to handle the fallout, as well as the muggle side of the equation."
I was under no illusion that we could keep this a secret. Even if possible, I wouldn't allow it. This is the best opportunity I could hope for. Great many things will happen so fast in the next few hours that will help me tremendously.
I felt a smile grace my face as my thoughts spun together to create a plan.
So I walked up the stairs, my smile widening with each step.
Truly, fortune and misfortune come hand in hand…
X_
• Rome, Italy – Piazza del Sant'Uffizio •
• October 15th, 1:25 PM CET •
[Slaviel, Servant of the Lord]
Once upon a time, Slaviel—who back then went by another name—was a slave to his basic urges and desires. Like an animal. He chased after anything that boosted his ego and stroked his pride.
He hated that version of himself, and not a day goes by where he doesn't thank his lucky stars that his father found him again, and was merciful enough to liberate him from that state.
It might not have been obvious at first. Or at all. But he now knew, with absolute certainty, that Fallen Angels were a crippled race. It was all thanks to his father's heavenly system—or as he called it here, the Archive—that he was able to understand just how, as father said, nerfed and debuffed they were.
'It should have been obvious…' he thought, feeling a slight twinge of sorrow for his fallen brothers and sisters. 'They don't know. They couldn't have known…'
We, the angels, are a race created to serve father. We live by his grace. By his light. And the moment we lose that, we start devolving. Slowly. Unnoticeably.
It was no wonder there were so many stupid, mentally challenged, and just outright crazy beings in the Fallen's ranks. And now that he thought about it, was it ever a wonder that the Fallen were the weakest of the three factions? Even Azazel was not as smart as he was back in Heaven…
Truly, Lord Father has been merciful.
"And once again, thank you, Lord Father, for gracing me with your light… amen," he prayed. Once more.
Wiping the small tears of happiness and gratitude from his eyes, Slaviel looked down upon the spatial fissure that was spilling magic and natural energy into the environment, and shook his head.
He now knew why his father had tasked him with taking control of the church.
Truly, father is all-knowing…
To think that everything he had done until now was just preparation for this. Killing all those monsters his previous fallen self had gathered was truly the right choice.
The humans of this world cannot handle fighting the supernatural on multiple fronts. It was why his job of uniting the faith was necessary. Humanity needs a banner to rally under, and what better banner than his father's?
Still, even with all those preparations, he couldn't help but grimace when he saw the wizards, riding their brooms, heading toward the slowly changing crack…
The ordinary armed forces—army, police, and those weird people in hazmat suits and heavy equipment—hadn't been able to make any sense of this for the past hour. Not that the wizards would figure things out before it was too late, either.
Nevertheless, it was a good thing. The fear they were feeling right now could be used to direct these people onto a path of true faith. Into an impressive force that serves his Lord Father.
And it's not like they can conceal the news either, he thought, turning his head to the right and watching the journalists trying—and failing—to take pictures of the events.
The blockade the armed forces had created was impressive. That didn't mean these people didn't have enough material to spread the news. They just wanted better footage.
Zzz…
His attention quickly returned to the changing form of the spatial crack, his eyes squinting slightly as his form levitated downward to get a better sense of what was happening.
The fissure started to compress into a ball the size of a head. The people surrounding it quickly began to run back to create distance, but he didn't care.
Slaviel was more focused on how the ball changed to a blue color and started to form a circular-shaped hole in space. A portal, if he'd ever seen one.
The chaotic discharge of magic and natural energy slowed and became more regulated. It seemed like everything was about to settle down.
I can't let my guard down now, he reminded himself. The simulation training I did with father taught me that this was exactly when one should expect things to go wrong.
He was proven right when he sensed a magical signature on the other side of the portal. It was fuzzy, almost imperceptible, but it was there nonetheless.
Slaviel tensed, adjusting his posture in the air, and doubled down on his invisibility as he watched to see what would emerge.
He completely ignored the yelling, curses, and threats the humans below were trading. Everyone has a part to play in his Lord Father's great plan, after all…
A green clawed arm was the first thing that came out of the portal, followed by the rest of the green, ugly body. It was a small creature—child-sized, really—with an ugly green complexion, a face full of warts, a big nose, mismatched eyes, and a mouth full of sharp teeth.
Grrrrr
It growled as soon as it emerged, its attention fully on the humans below.
It can't sense me, he thought. That's good. This means it's not powerful enough to—
"Fuck, what's that?"
"I don't know, but it looks like a goblin, right?"
"No it does not… this thing is green."
"Yeah, well, it does to me. They're all ugly as hell."
"Ugh, would you shut up… We want to see if we can communicate with it."
"Did this muggle just order me to shut up?"
"Yes, he did, and you should!"
Slaviel couldn't help but sigh at the situation. These were grown men, bickering like children and fighting amongst themselves while leaving a hostile entity alone.
He would have interfered if he could, but it was not his turn yet. These people needed a very powerful shock to wake them up and bring them back to the speed of the rest of reality.
Slowly, that one goblin turned to two, then four, and more started to emerge from the portal. All growling and salivating as they slowly closed the distance between themselves and their prey.
The humans, of course, were still using their megaphones to try to communicate with them—or bickering amongst themselves. It was like they had no sense of self-preservation at all.
Ugggghhhh…
One of the goblins leading the group suddenly roared animalistically and sprinted toward them. His hand swung the primitive axe in a swift motion.
The abruptness of the movement caught the humans in front by surprise, making them scramble to avoid the blow. The axe flew out of the goblin's hand and embedded itself in the shoulder of one of the commanders with a megaphone.
His pained cry was heard by everyone, thanks to that.
Still, the wizards and armed forces reacted quickly enough and started raining bullets and spells upon the creatures. It was quickly obvious that the spells were more effective—every spell took down a goblin, while the guns and rifles needed multiple rounds to kill one. They bruised and hurt them, but only the snipers were able to kill them by targeting the same spot twice.
Minutes went by, and as more and more goblins began to leave the portal, the situation started to change. The humans were getting overwhelmed, and their pleas for reinforcement echoed through the plaza. None had died yet, but he wasn't sure that would remain the case in a few minutes.
Bzzzzz, crack
"Carlo to Command, Carlo to Command! We are taking heavy casualties at the Vatican perimeter! I repeat, we are—" rat-tat-tat-tat… BOOM… click, rat-tat-tat-ta "—shit, they're everywhere! Requesting immediate reinforcement! Over!"
"Command to Carlo, what is your status? What are we dealing with?"
"How the fuck should I know?! They're green, they're ugly, and bullets aren't doing enough! The wizards are helping, but there's too many green monsters! The portal keeps spitting them out! Send aerial support, send more wizards, send everyone! Send—"
"Ughhhhh!"
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!"
BOOOOOOM~
"This is Private Bianchi! Men down! I repeat, men down! Somebody send help! Please!"
Zzzzzzz…
Slaviel watched impassively as they scrambled and screamed. He could hear the injured praying, begging his Lord Father to send help. As if answering their prayer, a message arrived in his Archive.
The always-active but minimized screen at the edge of his vision automatically enlarged, and he quickly read the message his father had sent him.
Replying swiftly, he minimized the screen and released his aura in full. In another time, he would have stayed and re-read the message several times, but the situation had changed, and his father's orders were absolute.
Everything seemed to come to a halt as his golden aura washed over everyone. His invisibility faded away, revealing him levitating in the air, his wings, body, and face glowing with golden light.
The monsters halted in place, their forms shaking. He didn't say anything, merely lifting his hand slightly as multiple small, sharp light constructs formed. He swung his finger down lazily, and the projectiles launched, striking the monsters and killing each with a single blow.
He levitated down and swatted a spell aside with his left hand as soon as his feet touched the ground. He didn't speak, simply increasing the output of his aura, making it harder for the wizards to even move.
He walked slowly toward the injured soldiers and policemen and stood before them.
"The Lord has answered your prayers," he announced, making sure his voice reached everyone, as a wave of golden light—his father's light—passed through him and into the environment, sweeping across the injured in the blink of an eye.
Sharp inhales and gasps filled the air as the injuries faded like they were a dream.
He nodded and turned around, heading directly toward the portal.
So it's called a Gate, he thought. His Lord Father truly is all-knowing.
He stopped midway and turned to address the crowd. His eyes landed on the one with the communication device. "Call for the Pope. The Lord has a revelation for him," he informed the man, breaking him from his stupor.
The man quickly knelt, incoherent babbling starting to leave his mouth.
Slaviel didn't bother and turned around to continue his work. He had to seal the surrounding space around the portal to stop the monsters from advancing.
He didn't know how to do that. And he didn't need to. His father had sent him the magic circle he needed to use. All he had to do was manifest it and fuel it.
He spread his arms. A large golden circle appeared in front of him, smaller ones manifesting through it and engraving themselves on the ground around the Gate.
Seven circles on the ground. Seven in the air between. Seven above the Gate.
They all shone with intensely bright golden light as they connected, sealing the area around the Gate in a visible, golden-colored transparent box.
He turned around and walked back.
"There," he said. "I have sealed the area for some time. Now you have more time to prepare." And he began to levitate again.
"I will be back once the Pope arrives," he announced, and took off into the skies like a golden-colored beam.
X_
A/N: sorry for the long delay, I had a family emergency. If you remember ( I don't remember if I told you here or on my p@treon) my uncle died not long ago, and well, his wife, my aunt, followed him