2006, 16th January

Dubai, The United Arab Emirates

“What do you mean, Vampire crime boss. Wait, mutated brains? No, no! Stop acting the hammer…. Yes, the timing is too convenient. It may be helpful to look into it anyway.”

Michael closed his fist on the communicator with a frown.

Abas Khan raised his brows from the other end of the glass table.

“Vampire crime boss?”

“Apparently, that’s a thing, sir. I’ve got people working on leveraging this creature for an assignment of mine. It seems to have taken an interesting turn.”

“I wasn’t made aware of this. It seems your department has been lax about defining the non interference policy.”

“That only applies to matters of state, sir.”

“It seems to me a crime boss can exert plenty of influence on the state. A supernatural one even more so.”

“In certain cases. This ones a human trafficker, so-”

“So the Librarians need it around for their experiments.” A dissatisfied crease made its way across Abas’ face. “We’re tweaking policies for the Librarians now?”

“Sir, if this creature had any measurable influence on the state, the citizenry would flock to him to sell off their own neighbours. It’s just a predator in the dark, nothing more.”

Abas chuckled, dragging from a hookah placed on the table, before wiping the mouthpiece with a cloth, and passing it to Michael.

“I’d forgotten about your uniquely cynical worldview. You sound like someone forty years your senior when you speak.”

Michael blew a cloud of vapour in the air.

“Please. Cynicism is the refuge of the weak and the pathetic. This is merely an observation of the current state of affairs, and the obvious vulnerabilities within them. I might as well have said the sun was hot. Both statements being completely factual and massive understatements at the same time.”

Abas simply chuckled some more.

After a comfortable silence, he spoke.

“So, what did you want to see me about? I am a little busy. A second body of mine is in Iraq right now.”

“What’s happening in Iraq? Besides the obvious.”

“A whole camp of Ulfhednar. Slaughtered. Highly unusual, and we definitely don’t want the US military getting their hands on the bodies. That one would be hard to explain.”

“So, one question.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you the primary body?”

“What difference does that make?”

“Humour me.”

“It is. Happy?”

“Mhmm. It is, not I am. You’re lying.”

“Michael…”

Michael laughed.

“Alright, alright. So I need to start brushing up on Death magic- I have a feeling I’m going to need it in the near future.”

“Your soul doesn’t possess an affinity for Death magic.”

Michael gave Abas a look that made him pause before continuing.

“The irony of that statement isn’t lost on me. But everyone has a field they have an affinity for, and one they have the least aptitude for. You could continue, but it’s an uphill struggle. I suggest the Spirit field instead. It's a field tied to a Horizon realm, so you can reasonably blur boundaries between it and the Death field.”

“Alright. The Spirit field it is then.”

“It suits you. Spirits can supplement most fields of magic we might be deficient in, but there are obvious risks on relying on dangerous and intelligent beings as a crutch. But I believe you can minimise those risks.”

"So, let's get started."

"When did I say I was qualified to teach you? I haven't studied the field."

"You recommended me a field you yourself have no experience in?"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

“Hmm.”

“You seem a little distracted.”

“Speaking of intelligent beings… I was thinking of Anisha.”

“Ah yes. The Hollow that miraculously escaped an Astral Realm on her own, then outwitted a mage and thwarted him.”

“Awfully convenient.”

“You have some thoughts on that matter, Michael?”

“Well, obviously, you know how she called Hans off in the first place.”

“I’d heard rumours. I was actually there on ground zero when the weapon started its work.”

“Impressive sight?”

Abas had seen too much and was entirely too powerful at his seat as Lord over the Military wing of Apotheosis, to be quite so easily impressed.

So he merely tilted his head to a side, and said nothing.

Michael folded his fingers in front of him, lips pursed in thought, before speaking.

“So this is how it happened as she told me at least.”

13th April, 2005

Space Station, Apotheosis

“Ready to get off this station and onto firm ground again, Agent?”

Anisha bit back a sigh at the Director’s dry sense of humour.

Mars wasn’t exactly hospitable Terra firma; the other side of the Bleed, the spirit plane of the Red planet, even less so.

But it was required of her, as Lord Muller, appearing after so long, had immediately sent her a summons.

And so she dutifully readied herself, even as a Voidcraft was readied for her.

The vessel screamed, with no accompanying light show this time, as it rippled and passed through the bleed.

And she was through, leaving the physical world behind, into the spirit plane.

Mars glowed with the fiery light of the sun viewed through the other side of reality.

Structures dotted the surface, towering and grand.

As well as glowing pits of fire, where the magi had chained the true residents of the planet’s spirit plane, beaming with unearthly intensity.

She wouldn’t want to get close with any amount of protection.

Void-faring vessels dotted the space around her.

One hailed her, dark and foreboding at the edge of her field of view.

And so her little voidcraft was swallowed by a maw of steel, and she disembarked onto the vessel.

Hollows everywhere, even more hollow than usual if that were possible, their faces now expressionless masks, eyes completely lifeless, opaque.

At certain points, the very light seemed to warp.

Ghosts? The Magi certainly seemed to believe those existed.

Not that she’d ever want to see one.

And there he was at the bridge, the man himself.

Hans Muller turned with a smile to greet her.

“My envoy returns.”

Anisha bowed tentatively.

“My lord.”

He gestured for her to approach.

“Today, we take the first step to healing reality at last. What have you brought back for me from the Astral Plane?”

“I didn’t find a thing… my Lord.”

“Not so, not so. I hardly sent you to a realm of pure thought just to haul back a physical item. Now, let’s see…”

He turned and his fingers danced over several flickering displays.

Music, haunting, oddly dimmed in the interiors of the ship, accompanied Hans’ every stroke on the dash.

And Anisha watched the firepits of Mars flare with each note, even hundreds of miles away, the sound easily carrying through spirit-matter that suffused what would be empty space in the physical world.

And Spirits began to thrash within the pits, causing calamity to spread across the planets surface.

2006, 16th January

Dubai, The United Arab Emirates

“Who would have known.” Abas sighed. “A tonal frequency turned into an artefact.”

“To be fair, those fire pits are quite the workplace hazard.”

“I would wipe those blasted spirits out myself, if they couldn’t influence Mars’ physical existence so thoroughly.”

Michael smirked.

“I thought you nearly did that anyway.”

Abas had released a beast of war, amplified by metamagic to be able to cut through all layers of existence, able to harm even immaterial spirits.

The beast had slain a large number of spirits, but that strategy had resulted in consequential damage to the physical planet.

“The casualties numbered in the thousands, even seven of the magi falling when Mars began to burn. The spirits had to be suppressed.”

“Indeed. And that was before Anisha even input her part of the tone to complete that weapon.”

“It wasn’t already?”

“Oh no. The spirits would have rampaged directionless without the final part of the tone. Or so Hans told her. I wouldn’t know myself, I wasn’t there.”

“He took the time to tell her all that, did he?”

“Indeed. And once Anisha had input the final part of the tone-”

“Hans was supposedly distracted by his own victory, which allowed Anisha to broadcast a signal to the Hall of Lords, and we brought his Void ship down, preventing further damage.”

“But conveniently enough, Hans himself was gone.”

Abas leaned back in his chair, puffing thoughtfully from his Hookah.

“Michael. I’ve always appreciated your insight on these matters. What is your interpretation of these events?”

Michael rose to his feet and leaned against the cool beige wall.

"The first explanation is the easiest. His unnecessary pitch to Anisha. He bared himself to a Hollow who would barely be able to comprehend him. He must be heard. His views must be validated. A marker of insecurity.”

“He’s an apprentice mage at least, from what you told me. I lean towards him being, maybe even an adept. Fear seems… unlikely.”

Michael let the statement pass unchallenged. Fear was an evolutionary advantage for most organisms, but manipulating and commanding a creation force like the magi did, even a slight fear induced stutter could cause them to be rent to component atoms.

Traits that undermined complete and utter self control would take themselves out of the pool, sooner rather than later.

“Obviously then, the second assumption is that the pitch wasn’t meant for her. She was merely the messenger, or rather, her memory was.”

Abas tensed.

“You know what you’re implying, don’t you? Even the slaughter at Mars hasn’t had Hans excommunicated; but this suggestion of yours- it’s high treason.”

“But you arrived at that conclusion yourself anyway. You agree with me.”

"I do. Even though I approached the problem from a different angle. But I do."

“Tell me.”

“The universe is split to numbers unthinkable, the smallest fractions of time deviating into parallel universes every time an isolated electron deviates from its path by a fraction. And for every single conscious psyche in an uncountable number of universes, a new Astral plane is born, a universe within its own right, within Horizon.”

“And the death of the conscious mind that spawned it?”

“Does nothing. A dream that doesn’t require its dreamer any longer. Or a chemical reaction burning long past the stimulus that triggered it in the first place, if that’s your preference.”

“So finding a specific artefact within one Astral Plane is-”

“-An act incomprehensibly more difficult than isolating a singular atom within the universe we inhabit.”

“And the other way around that is to be contacted by a resident of the plane, reaching out with their address.”

“Michael. Accusing one of the magi of collaborating with a fae is-”

“You said it yourself. The evidence is insurmountable. But I won’t call it collaboration yet. It could be any number of other things, things that, if true, would make Hans look like a fool, but not a traitor.”

“No.”

Abas frowned unhappily, as if the thought of not springing into immediate action did not seem to sit well with him.

“Sir. I’ll uncover what it is he’s up to. You don’t need to doubt that.”

Abas shook his head.

“You are strong, Michael. Let us hope that proves sufficient for the task ahead.”