Razael, the Wolf, turned to face Suriel with a furious expression. “I should have let you die!”
Threads of blue light slipped back in as the Way recovered some of its hold. A shimmering orange diamond appeared over Razael’s shoulder, sparkling with a different reflected face in each facet.
[My host is relieved she arrived in time,] Razael’s Presence said.
A string of twisting symbols punched through the Way again, and Suriel glimpsed a group of Silverlords chanting in tandem. The silver crowns on their heads shone and serpentine runes twined around them as they called on the energy systems of plundered worlds to make their attack.
That working would be enough to rewrite the physics of any local Iteration, but Razael backhanded the ribbon of symbols with an armored fist. The working of the Silverlords shattered.
Razael glared at her Presence. “Plot our retreat!”
[We don’t have a retreat,] the crystalline Presence said to Suriel. [She knows that.]
Void beasts clawed their way into being, indescribable horrors slashing their way through more strands of order, drawing them closer to the Void.
“Stop talking and help me!”
[She’s happy to be here.]
The Mad King let the Scythe drift off to one side and drew his sword, a length of bone that screamed with the sorrow of a thousand butchered worlds. Suriel’s instincts and Presence screamed danger, and she turned her attention to the attacks of the other Vroshir as the Wolf faced down the Mad King.
Another figure marched into the fading blue light, holding his molten shield ready. The Titan blocked the oncoming void-beasts, slapping them back out of reality.
“You will stand trial for this,” Gadrael warned Suriel. “But for now…” He set his shield and faced the Mad King. “…nothing will touch you.”
The blue light shone brighter, but only for a moment.
Daruman’s red-sun eyes blazed as he spoke one word. “Come,” the Mad King commanded, and he was echoed by his Fiend.
Their word spread through the Void, echoing among the empty chambers of chaos, and those who dwelled in chaos obeyed.
The world darkened, and once again, the hold of the Way began to slip. Even with three Judges present, the forces of the Void were too strong. Their gravity tugged the Abidan away.
Just when the Way had faded to one thin azure thread, a girl’s head popped out.
She looked like she was about twenty, and she glanced around with uncertain eyes. “Quick, let’s go!”
Someone else shoved her from behind. A distinguished gentleman whose glasses gleamed. As the girl tumbled out of her tunnel and emerged next to Suriel, he stepped out elegantly, and he even had his weapon in the form of a cane.
“I suppose you’re going to insist on making me work, aren’t you?” said the Spider, gesturing with his cane.
The Fox, Zakariel, trembled and hid behind him.
“This is not my doing,” Makiel said.
The Hound manifested in full battle armor, holding his broad two-handed sword in one hand. He looked completely unharmed, with his dark and weathered skin and his iron-gray hair, but Suriel could see that his existence was still weak.
He gave Suriel a hard look. “But if we are to walk this path, we will walk it together. All of us.”
The Ghost blew hair away from her face, and Suriel realized for the first time the woman was standing at her side. Durandiel was the only one of the Seven not wearing armor, instead wearing a dull gray dress that hazed into smoke and carrying a tall staff.
“We’re all going to die,” the Ghost said.
Makiel’s Presence, a floating purple eye, answered her. [We have not seen our deaths.]
“I didn’t mean here,” Durandiel sighed. “I just thought it was worth contemplating our own mortality.”
The Fox tried to slip out through the strengthening Way, but Razael caught her. “Where are you going, Zak?”
The young-looking girl squirmed in the grip of the Wolf. “Don’t call me that! Call me Zerachiel!”
Razael glared. “That’s not your name.”
“At least don’t call me Zak!”
Telariel sighed and adjusted his glasses. “This is beneath us all,” the Spider said.
The attacks had stopped and the Way was back in full-force, now rippling with strength as the presence of the Abidan Judges reinforced order in the cosmos. The Silverlords and Vroshir backed away as they tore open portals into the Void.
From twisting in Razael’s grip, the Fox froze. Zakariel’s head snapped in the direction of the opening portals. “Now, where are you going?”
The Void portals winked out instantly. Some Silverlords in the process of fleeing were spat back into their Iterations.
Zakariel disappeared from the Wolf’s hands, and she flickered through existence. A white-armored hand clapped onto the shoulder of the Vroshir.
All the Vroshir, save the Mad King. All at once.
Each Silverlord had a tiny Judge standing behind them, one hand on their shoulder, a wicked fox’s grin on her face. Her teeth gleamed even in no light.
Gadrael braced his shield. “I can’t cover all her bodies and the King! Durandiel—”
“I know,” the Ghost said. She blew another strand of hair out of her eyes, and Suriel had half a mind to just cut it off.
Each Silverlord’s reaction was different, but each one had once been a champion of their respective worlds. They responded with lethal force, erupting with workings of every description.
Durandiel tapped her staff lightly on empty space, and everything rippled.
The workings vanished, and the Fox struck.
Blood sprayed across many realities.
The Mad King kept his gaze focused on Makiel, and now the Vroshir held his sword in one hand and the Scythe in the other. His voice was a spear penetrating the Way.
“You make quite a show with the heavens to shield you.”
The Judges looked down on the Mad King, and their wills were as one. Together, they slipped into reality.
Iteration 119: Fathom
A moment before, this world had trembled under the power of the Mad King.
A soldier arrived with his purple-veined sword, and Fate returned to its proper course. Makiel, the Hound.
A guardian appeared, steadied behind his shield, and the surviving mortal population shook with relief as they sensed they were protected. Gadrael, the Titan.
A gentleman stepped out, cane tapping at every step, and the shroud of chaos retreated, restoring the definition of order. Telariel, the Spider.
A woman drifted in, gray dress and black hair blowing like smoke, and perhaps she had always been there. Something shifted in the inner machinery of the world, but none in Iteration One-one-nine knew exactly what. Durandiel, the Ghost.
A warrior strode forward, ready for combat with sword blazing as bright as her hair, and all existence shone more brightly. Razael, the Wolf.
A healer descended on light like blue wings, and all over this reality, wounds knitted back together and fortress walls reassembled themselves. Suriel, the Phoenix.
A predator slunk behind the other six, and she tossed the still-bleeding head of a Silverlord behind her as Void portals closed and space stilled all throughout Fathom. Zakariel, the Fox.
For the first time in centuries, the Court of Seven manifested together, and the world was healed.