Marcus stood in a glass encased alcove overlooking a laboratory in the Dimensional Research Division's deepest recesses.
The most recent addition to the Bureau's extensive list of divisions, the DRD was easily one of the most important.
It was they, after all, who had mastered the art of creating artificial Gates, taking the notation and methods created by the Founder to new and impressive heights previously thought impossible.
The project, after all, had been deemed so successful that the System itself had considered their work not only worth keeping in place, but acceptable to simply convert to True Gates. That fact alone was evidence enough that the Bureau had accomplished one of its biggest goals and surpassed its largest hurdle; pushing humanity's capability to grow stronger to a workable realm.
The world's inability to capitalize on this obscenely difficult achievement and actually do the work was supposed to be outside of the Bureau's purview…but what must be done, must be done.
The Horde had failed to do their part, to increase the actual power of humanity as a whole, a dereliction of duty they would inevitably for which they would pay the price.
Ultimately those consequences were not his responsibility, so he shook his head gently and turned his mind to something far more pressing.
The small stone…coffin that had been recovered from the catastrophic fiasco within the Residence of the Betrayed floated in the air in the lab below. Devices measuring data so minute it was imperceptible to even Marcus flickered in the darkness, flaring at seemingly random times.
To call the stone, which was constantly changing size, a coffin was a clever metaphor for what it was, likely done to hide the truth of it.
It was a seal.
"Seals" to be specific, trillions upon trillions of seals wrapped around something that someone desperately wanted locked away.
Despite the confidence he showed Terrowin, Marcus couldn't truly be positive of what was within, something he'd been open with his brother about.
It was hard to deny the exciting possibility though.
In addition to the incomprehensible quantity of seals, their quality was beyond doubt. Marcus had only met a handful of people who knew of their existence, and the number of people within that group who could use them competently was down around two or three.
Curiously, the System hadn't mentioned what the True Gates opening meant for Earth beyond the civilizations that would have normal access to them.
In the vast, infinite universe there were countless civilizations that had yet to receive Gates, simply being subsumed by what they preceded.
Among them were worlds conquered by horrifically powerful beings, things that eclipsed even the strongest of the worlds connected to the Gates created and maintained by the System.
One of those entities was an organization known as the Crimson Army, a man who Marcus suspected he'd be seeing soon, and he was one of the people capable of using the seals he observed below.
In fact, Marcus realized, all of the people he knew who could do so would be making appearances soon, within the span of a year most likely.
The strange coincidence didn't elude him.
That a barrier designed not to protect, but to hide the Earth would be intrinsically tied to a Seal that also triggered a major System update seemed unlikely to have happened by mistake. It was concerning, but there was little he could do about it beyond hope that he and his brothers wouldn't be thrown into another galactic war over a single planet.
Behind him, the heavily locked door slid open as Directors Terrance and Gala entered the alcove, quietly discussing…something.
Eternal life and countless years of studying hadn't done much to evolve his knowledge of Dimensional Magic, so most of what they had to say eluded him.
"To what do I owe the pleasure," Marcus asked aloud.
A lightly accented voice spoke, barely audible even in the silence of the room, "I'm curious about your most recent acquisition, Marcus. The seals covering it are exquisite, though…concerning."
Director Gala rarely spoke with anyone beyond the people in the room, and despite being so soft spoken, she was not to be ignored. Quite possibly the smartest person on the planet, Gala was wholeheartedly dedicated to her research and used the Bureau's resources unapologetically to further it.
When he'd found her thesis on unbound dimensional rifts and utilizing mana to stabilize them, he knew he needed her expertise and promised her an entire department dedicated to whatever she wanted to research.
At a rough estimate of two trillion dollars a year, hundreds of researchers, and shocking amounts of land, she had every scientist's dream playground with almost no limits, ZERO oversight, and only a yearly reminder that she should consider ethics at least once in a while.
"What are your concerns?"
Gala's hands moved swiftly through the air and several screens appeared on the glass in front of them.
"My readings are showing something alive inside that thing, which can't be possible. The amount of energy they're holding is off the scale…my scale, that is," she replied incredulously.
Marcus nodded, unsurprised at this information.
Gala's scale measured energy at a level produced by galaxies; the seals holding that much power made total sense to him, given the people he knew could create the damn things.
With the way things were going, he hoped that Gala's measurements were accurate, because they were going to need all the help they could get. If the seal held was what he hoped, it wasn't certain they'd receive help directly, but he would get to see a few hornet's nests kicked which would be cathartic at the very least.
The room below pulsed black and purple as a single rune came off the seal, and Marcus recognized a familiar flash of red.
Up to now that particular shade of red was extremely uncommon, though not unheard of. The Bureau worked hard to make sure as few people as possible knew when the eyes appeared, but in a modern society that level of censorship is simply impossible. It didn't help that every appearance preceded at least a dozen deaths, and sometimes far, FAR, more.
Raising a hand and sending a message to Jennifer, who was overseeing the work down below, his shoulders slumped as the poor young man was immediately wrapped in magic chains and hauled away.
It was always difficult to see a person succumb to the affliction, but with this he knew exactly what was trapped in the seal.
The screaming began moments later as another person's eyes flickered and then illuminated, a dull red light filling the room.
Then another.
Then another.
They say that when you look into the Void, the Void looks back…but in this room, for the first time in millenia, it was a far more literal concern. Gazing upon the shifting and now nebulous form emerging from the rapidly unraveling seal, Marcus knew the people below him would likely all be lost before the end of the day.
The human mind simply couldn't comprehend…nothing.
The Void was a roiling enigma that defied explanation under the best of circumstances, and these were hardly optimal. To begin with, humanity saw the Void as flames…for some reason, and under that perception they felt it as though they were burning.
It had been that way since its first recorded appearance, but on this world, in this time, Marcus had taken great pains to hide what was happening.
Research into the Void was the only thing he'd explicitly banned, even going so far as to make sure that Gala avoided it unless absolutely necessary.
The primordial aspect of reality was only the first of two threats however, and far less dangerous than the one that followed.
While it could never be truly understood, the Void at least operated under circumstances that could be predicted and manipulated, if not controlled. The affliction he'd seen labeled as "The Red Eye Disease" and "Crimson Affliction" was by far more dangerous and unpredictable.
As the room slowly grew brighter and harder to look at, Marcus felt additional presences standing behind him, side by side with Terrance, who was now speaking quietly.
The two had been granted early passage to this reality, though not permissions to interact with Walkers or humanity in general yet.
Terrance himself had appeared from nowhere, taking near a dozen people under his wing and created the Homeward Hearth guild; quite possibly the only current guild that operated with the protection of mankind as its core priority, and acting in secret to affect changes that would function with that goal in mind.
A screen appeared before him and he sighed.
System Notice:
The Lady of the Hearth and She Who Wields Light are looking at you with hope in their eyes.
"Ladies, I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you. I have no guarantees or assurances he'll be here this time. You've traveled across realities and time to be here with your Paragon…you can be patient a little longer."
He sensed their discontent at his words, but no further screens popped up which was good, because he only had so much patience for these two.
Simply put, the Constellations shouldn't have begun showing up until after the Emerald Dawn, yet here they were. He had enough on his plate without pissed off constellations demanding to have their way and causing a ruckus that would distract him from the almost fully unleashed seal below.
They waited with similar hopes to him, that this seal would return the Founder to them, though it was unclear what their motivations actually were.
There were a lot of people with justifiable grudges to carry out against the man, and they would all take the opportunity to slaughter him in even the slightest moment of weakness.
Eventually the entire staff of the room below was afflicted, red eyes glowing and Jennifer looked up at him with pain in her eyes.
She knew most of these people, was proud of their work underneath her and took their safety seriously. It was likely the young woman would have words for him later, particularly once she discovered he knew this would be a possibility, but that was a problem for the future. After all, everyone within the Bureau knew their life was always at risk of being a sacrifice for the greater good of the cause, a belief and mentality that likely lay at the core of why the Founder had disappeared so long ago.
Jennifer herself had been one of ten subjects in an experiment to create people resistant to the Void, and the only survivor.
A tear slid down her cheek as she triggered a spell, creating a shimmering bubble of air around her and she pressed a button that flooded the room with some of the most toxic poisons on Earth, aerosolized for easy usage of course.
The alchemists who'd designed the poison delivery system had been rewarded greatly, but died long before they could properly taken advantage of it, ironically to one of their own experiments. Well that was the risk of creating grand advances in any field, and their last words had been of great pride in their newest creation.
He felt the two women behind him shudder in disgust as the host of researchers died below and Gala merely jotted something down in her System notepad. He knew she'd be down there when the poison had cleared out more, but her research began now; it wasn't often that one got a chance to observe the effects of the affliction safely, and she had decided it was core to understand an aspect of dimensional magic since it was tied to the void…which she was banned from studying.
Not that silly rules to keep her safe would stop her, Marcus was positive she had hidden labs delving deep into the matter at all times, hell he'd be disappointed if she didn't, but he had to make at least a cursory attempt to keep her safe.
Oddly enough, he actually wasn't all that worried about her safety in this regard, the woman was quite honest with herself and fully aware of the truth most hid away in their deepest recesses.
The primary function of the affliction was to bring one's true self to the forefront without restrictions or the lies we tell ourselves to make it through the day to day. Self restraint was essentially eradicated and desire often pursued with little to no concern as to the safety or well being of others.
If that didn't describe Gala, he wasn't sure what did.
Down below, Jennifer barely blinked as she forced herself to watch her coworkers and friends fall to the ground, glowing irises staring at her in what might have been shock.
While he understood the gesture, he couldn't mimic it, even as a comfort to the young woman whose life he had irrevocably altered.
Marcus had simply been the cause of too much death, too much suffering, to bring himself to offer any solidarity on this.
Memories of tens of thousands of casualties filled his mind, all victims to the cause of saving countless more. It wasn't something he thought of often, but once in a blue moon he wondered if there had been another way to do what he and his brethren had done.
Could they have saved all they did with a gentler hand?
He knew the answer to this, of course.
No.
It wasn't a matter of denial, but of practicality.
Their enemies were beyond ruthless and took pride in that fact as they destroyed the lives of tens of millions at a time, obliterating whole worlds worth of people in the span of time it took to have a meeting on how to deal with the threat they posed.
Despite, or perhaps because of, the Founder's frantic plans and choices, Marcus suspected humanity was at no risk of extinction…but it would be a rough ride before the Dawn came to pass.
He heard The Lady of the Hearth softly crying, her compassion finally overtaking her attempt at stoic observation.
For a moment Marcus worried that she would try to do something to stop what was happening, to save at least one additional life, but he knew she knew better than that by now.
He trusted Terrance to keep her on an even keel, and if he couldn't?
Well, Marcus had killed Gods before.