"There," Maymun said softly, though his voice carried the weight of command. "That is why he stands here. Not for what he has done but for what storms rise beyond these walls."
The golden aura around him flared, and the chamber's runes pulsed as if stirred by his will. His gaze swept the council before settling, deliberate, back on Mike.
"The angels move to cause further destruction to the balance," he said.
At once the chamber stirred, embers leapt from Shazir's beard, Jann's lightning cracked, Marid's tide darkened, even Binyai's shadows thickened as though swallowing the corners of the hall.
"They have begun collecting the five trumpets," Maymun continued, his tone heavy with old sorrow. "Each one carved from the marrow of a fallen seraph. Each one a call to summon the Destroyer patiently waiting beneath the deserts of the East. Abaddon."
The name alone seemed to chill the air. Even Hamza, stone-faced and resolute, let his crimson aura flicker uneasily.
Mike frowned, the word jagged in his chest. "Abaddon…? Who the hell is that supposed to be?"
Marid's voice answered, low and melodic, but laced with dread. "The Angel of the Abyss. Not really an angel though. Nobody knows how old he really is but his loyalty to the angels master is absolute. There is no lock that keeps him beneath the desert, he is simply waiting. When the trumpets sound together, he follows his masters call, and the world will be ravaged until nothing is left but ash and silence."
Shazir's fire snarled high toward the vaulted ceiling. "And still you waste our breath on this half-mortal? Abaddon rises, the titans roam free, and we—" He cut a hand toward Mike, sparks flying. "—squabble over this corrupted thing when the end already marches!"
Jann slammed his fist against his armrest, thunder cracking through the stone. "You think ignoring him will save you when Abaddon comes? He has consumed gods' bones and stands breathing still. What other mortal, what other beast, could do such a thing? He is a weapon whether you name him or not!"
Binyai's shadows curled inward like ink. His voice came slow, deliberate.
"Dumu-Kur is another catastrophe, one more beast to add to the storm. He follows the guidance of Kur and aims to follow the same path."
The council roared with discord, essence colliding in the chamber until the runes in the walls groaned under the strain.
Only Maymun remained still. His golden gaze never left Mike, steady, piercing.
"The trumpets are already in motion," Maymun said, and his words fell like a seal upon the chaos. "The angels march to summon Abaddon in the East. There, gods and titans alike will fight for dominion in the ashes. But here—" He gestured toward Mike, the chains still glimmering faintly around his aura. "—here is another force. Another fracture. Another choice."
His voice darkened, rising like a storm breaking.
"Do we shatter him now, before the storm crests? Or do we forge him into a blade to cut against the gods and angels alike?"
The council fell to silence, each djinn's gaze fixed on Mike. For the first time since the trial, he felt the full weight of their judgment not just for his sins, but for the shape of wars yet to come.
"Maymun! Do not think yourself Abraxis! I have participated in this charade to help the hatchling gain control of his power! None of you halfling insects dictate the fate of a dragon!! He will destroy and consume. Stay out of his path and provide support or I will descend and put an end to all of you…" Bahamut roared exerting his presence on all of the council.
The chamber shook from Bahamut's presence. Mike stood rigid at the center, the weight of every gaze hammering him down.
Then Maymun rose.
His golden aura surged outward pushing against Bahamut. The runes on the walls blazed so fiercely the chamber looked as though it had been carved into the heart of the sun.
"Enough old friend. Two names of power have now been spoken here today. Care is now required less we mean to invoke the law of threes." The room fell into a deep silence. "I only wish to provide your hatchling a path to fulfill his purpose. The council will do him no harm today."
The council remained silent. The storm of voices collapsed into stillness, every eye turning toward their king.
Maymun descended from the dais with measured steps, his presence pressing against every soul in the chamber. He stopped before Mike, his gaze hard as tempered steel.
"You speak of him as weapon, or catastrophe, or mistake. You think to argue his existence as if it were still in question. It is not." His voice carried no room for dissent, only command. "He has already consumed divinity. He has already survived the crucible. The world will not destroy what has been forged."
He turned, letting his gaze sweep his councilors one by one, each lowering their aura before the weight of his words. Looking up with a slight nod at Bahamut.
"The angels gather their trumpets. Abaddon will not remain beneath the sands much longer. The gods will march, the titans will answer, and the angels will unleash the great devourer upon them." His tone grew heavier, his aura flaring brighter with each word. "The East will drown in chaos. That battlefield is not ours."
Maymun's eyes narrowed, burning like molten suns.
"Here, on the other side of the world, we will not be idle. The horrors here will test our strength. Titans still walk this soil. And we—" his hand cut the air, golden fire trailing—"we will prepare for war."
The chamber fell utterly silent. Even the runes dimmed, as though bowing to the weight of his command.
Mike's chest tightened, his hands curling into fists. The trial had broken him open, stripped him raw, but now the gravity of Maymun's words felt heavier than any chain. A fracture, yes. A blade, perhaps. But only if Maymun allowed him to stand.
The king's gaze locked on him again.
"You are bound to this path now, Michael. Not as a mortal stumbling in whispers, but as one who has seized a fragment of godhood. I will not waste breath debating whether you should exist. You do. The question is whether you will be tempered into something that cuts against the chains of gods and angels… or whether I will break you myself before you become their equal."
He stepped closer, so near Mike could feel the heat radiating from his golden aura.
In Mike's mind he heard Bahamut's voice. "Allow me to descend in your body to end this fallacy of a trial. It will be just a moment."
"I agree." Mike muttered. Maymun's eyes grew wide as an storm of essence erupted from Mike's body. His eyes now a dark crimson and his grew longer with black markings covering his upper body. Before anyone in the chamber could react, Mike appeared in front of Shazir. Grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air. "Pathetic halfbreeds. You dare judge my successor? I supported your trial for his benefit but I am done. Get out of his way or I'll tear all of you apart now." Mike's voice came out as a low growl.
Shazir was too terrified to move. He realized immediately that Kur was in front of him. The other council members didn't move. Due to the divinity Mike had consumed, Bahamut was able to wield power far beyond what they could handle without burning the vessel or creating an avatar.
Maymun just stood watching his old friend Kur holding Shazir in the air. He lightly shook his head walking towards Mike.
"The angels are moving. Abaddon is coming. The world tears itself apart." Maymun's voice lowered to a quiet, lethal edge. "The path forward begins now."