CHAPTER 24: THE FIRE BETWEEN GODS
...
The Choir's Base in Ruin
The Oval Black Dawn was quiet now.
Quiet, except for the sound of stones cracking. Quiet, except for the faint hiss of sigils burning themselves out on the walls. Quiet, except for the sound of Luther breathing... harsh, ragged, molten air leaving his lungs in golden wisps that curled into the smoky ceiling.
He stood in the center of the shattered hall, wings flared wide, lattice veins blazing like fractured stars under his skin. Around him lay the wreckage: Choir acolytes in heaps, robes torn and blackened; black banners slashed to ribbons; cracks spiderwebbed through the dais itself.
Lust staggered to her feet against a pillar. Blood trickled from her temple where debris had struck her, but she couldn't tear her eyes from him.
The sight of him.
The storm wearing human shape.
"That…" she whispered hoarsely, "…isn't even close to his limit."
Clone 3 rose more slowly, his movements measured despite the faint tilt of his chipped mask. He surveyed the ruin, then lifted his gloved hand and signaled.
"Fall back," he commanded. His tone was calm as ever, but this time it cracked at the edges. "Regroup. Now."
The few remaining acolytes scrambled away like shadows fleeing the sunrise.
Luther's eyes found Clone 3, burning in the dark. His voice, when it came, was hoarse but steady.
"Take me to Paku."
It wasn't a question.
Clone 3 said nothing.
And Luther didn't wait for an answer... he just walked past him, toward the exit. Each step rang out against the stone like a judgment pronounced.
Clone 3 tilted his head faintly, then activated the hidden comm bead in his collar.
"Paku," he murmured into the encrypted line. "He's on the move."
On the other end, he heard only a quiet laugh.
...
Mr. P Prepares His Move
The sirens in the lab were still screaming, red lights strobing across the glass panels.
Clones darted between consoles, shouting over one another as they tried to jam Eden's sensors and feed false telemetry into the public grid. One clone tripped on a loose cable and spilled a stack of holo-charts across the floor.
Mr. P sat in the middle of it all, serene. His chair creaked faintly as he leaned back, stubbed his cigarette out in an ashtray overflowing with filters, and lit another.
He smiled at nothing.
"Ahhh," he murmured. "And now the real fun starts."
Clone 19 shoved his way through the chaos, breathless, glasses fogged.
"Boss!" he blurted. "He's fucking coming! And..." his voice dropped to a squeak "...Zero's probably watching."
Mr. P waved him off lazily.
"Let him watch," he said. "He still doesn't get it. Luther was never his to control. And neither am I."
He reached for his workbench and began piecing together a strange device... something small, delicate, humming faintly with divine energy. Wires and crystal lattice gleamed between his fingers.
In the corner, Rei finally stepped out of the shadows.
"You planning to kill him," Rei said flatly, "or save him?"
Mr. P didn't look up.
"What's the difference?" he replied.
Then he did glance up... the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth.
"Just keep him from tearing the roof down long enough for me to save him from this," he added. "Then we'll see who's really in control of this little play."
...
Zero's Gambit
Zero sat alone in the dark.
His fingers hovered over the web of foresight before him, bleeding freely now, drops of red trailing down the fraying silver threads.
And the threads... the damned threads.. flared and burned every time Luther's light touched them. Each pulse from the Knife's lattice sent sparks skittering up Zero's veins, and the paths unraveled faster than he could weave them.
Yet his lips curved upward in the faintest, most terrible smile.
"Come on, Paku," he murmured. His voice was soft and cold. "Show me what you think you've planned. Let's see how long you can dance before the gods themselves burn you alive."
He sat there, smiling faintly, even as his own blood dripped into the threads like ink into water.
When the doors opened, he didn't look up.
Envy and Genna knelt at the threshold.
"Seal Sector 7 completely," he instructed, his tone level. "Evacuate the people there and feed more fuel to still disobedient people of eden... and please document Mr.P fall for me..if you must... broadcast it to all over eden for to see them. And ready Seraph. Have it awake before dawn."
They bowed and vanished.
Alone again, Zero let out a slow breath. His smile never faded.
"Let's play."
...
Luther Breaks Through
The air outside the Oval Black Dawn stung like ash and iron.
Luther didn't care.
He stormed through the ruins of the courtyard, his boots sinking into soot, wings spread, lattice burning trails in the darkness. Choir guards tried to form a line, but he scattered them with a single glance, his presence enough to unmake their courage.
Clone 3 and Lust followed him at a distance, the masked leader's stride uncharacteristically hesitant.
Lust's mirrored skin caught what little light there was as she raised her hand to strike again.
"Let me," she hissed.
But Clone 3 caught her wrist.
"Let him go," he said quietly. His mask tilted faintly. "We'll never hold him now. He's past containment."
Lust glared at him, her voice sharp as cut glass.
"You let him loose," she warned, "and you may not live to see the end of it. Not even Paku can leash that beast forever."
Clone 3 didn't answer.
He just watched as Luther's figure vanished into the haze.
And murmured to himself:
"That's the point."
...
A City Holding Its Breath
Above the city, the sky glowed faintly gold.
The people of Eden crowded the streets, chanting, praying, shouting, rioting. Soldiers held the line with shields and shock batons. Civilians waved black banners and threw stones. The whole city seemed to vibrate with fear and fury... like something alive, something waiting to break.
In the wasteland beyond the barrier, Luther walked.
His golden veins blazed against the night. His wings stretched wide. His divine lattice sparked like lightning trapped in flesh.
Every step closer, the air itself seemed to recoil.
Far above him, on the Spire, Zero sat back in his throne.
He watched the golden glow move across the plain toward him. His fingers bled onto the armrest, but his smile never wavered as Seraph's pod hissed open behind him.
Down in the shadows, Mr. P stood at his console, cigarette dangling from his lips. He typed a single line of code into the terminal, then leaned back, staring at the monitors.
"Come on, kid," he murmured to himself. "Be just angry enough to crack it… but not enough to ruin it all yet." As he watched the monitor of Elian's signal rise to... 28%
In the streets below, a child raised a black banner over his head and shouted louder than the rest.
The crowds surged. The sky burned.
And high above it all, a single thought seemed to hang in the air... unspoken, inevitable.
When gods fall, they don't fall alone.
...
END OF CHAPTER 24: THE FIRE BETWEEN GODS