Alcaestus stood like a statue.

The needle-like spines of the Enysomen Crown burrowed into his flesh and skull to reach his brain.

Pain was a mere whisper thanks to the Eidolon of Sut’s potion being fed directly into his veins.

He blinked.

With one eye, he viewed the present.

The other eidolons gathered around him.

They were in the Eidolon of Sunor’s sanctum temple deep within the American bunker.

The space had been a chapel once for the worship of their so-called God.

Sunor’s Will had explored the nature of the unnamed God and determined that it didn’t exist as the true Gods did. It was the mere myth of a primitive people, born out of fear and ignorance.

What more obvious indication that the Earth humans didn’t believe in their own God when they had surrender this place of worship without question?

No eidolon would ever allow a temple to their God be taken by another without a struggle.

With the other eye he viewed the past.

He was back at the nuclear weapon facility several weeks ago when he had gone from overwhelming triumph to crushing defeat over the course of a single conversation.

“I see past and present.”

“Wait a moment.” The Eidolon of Sut raised a long finger.

Many thin biomechanical arms emerging from the hump on the eidolon’s robe-covered back skittered across Al’s body like insectoid limbs.

Truth be told, he found those sensations more disturbing than the pressure the crown exerted on his cranium.

It reminded him of waiting motionless in a blind for the perfect shot while all manner of forest creatures crawled over him.

Once, as a young, inexperienced hunter he had made the mistake of choosing a tree that was along an inferno ant migratory route.

“You may proceed, Sunor’s Will.”

The Eidolon of Sut’s bored voice snapped Al back to the present, well, half of him. The other remained in the past.

He experienced that failure of a night as though part of him was actually there again.

Except, something was wrong.

“What is your purpose?”

Past Al spoke with no one.

He saw nothing standing in front of him.

“You cannot challenge until the time runs out.”

It was clear that he was speaking to someone or something.

There was a long stretch of silence on his part where he knew that he had to be listening to another speak.

“You were observing us.”

A pause.

“I am Adras’ Will. I am no messenger for those beneath me.”

The other eidolons watched the entire scene as a life-sized ethereal projection from the crown’s central gemstone.

Al’s memory ended.

“Again,” the Eidolon of Sunor said.

They viewed it five times before the Eidolon of Sut raised a finger.

“Further viewings will negatively impact Adras’ Will,” he said flatly.

“Very well. Remove the crown.”

The spines slipped out of his head while his divine gift immediately began the healing process.

The Eidolon of Sunor regarded the others.

“I will have each of your thoughts. You will not hold anything to yourself.”

“It is Sunor’s Will that has kept things to herself,” the Eidolon of Salla said. “Perhaps it is your turn to take up the crown?”

The Eidolon of Sunor’s expression grew as dark as the perfect curls that framed her perfect face.

“I do not submit.”

Her tone didn’t invite further discussion.

The Eidolon of Salla pressed ahead.

It was her position that she had been robbed of the opportunity to war as she desired over the last half year as reckoned by this world’s solar orbit. Patience bred impatience thus she’d war in other ways.

“The fog of war has grown denser, thicker, covering more of the battlegrounds than it had upon our first tremulous steps on this primitive world. We haven’t advanced our aims. We’ve stagnated. And now we’ve lost ground.” She turned to the Eidolon of Ekra. “Worse still, we’ve lost contact with four other teams. Correct?” She waited for the nod before continuing. “Only three remain. When will caution end? Or will we sit and do nothing until the day it is our turn to ‘mysteriously’ disappear? The pantheon cannot fail. We cannot fail. To do so will open a thousand worlds to our enemies. They will be able to strike at our very hearts with impunity.”

“Impassioned words, if simple ones,” the Eidolon of Sut said. “You’ve said nothing we don’t already know. And I don’t believe I heard any solutions in your words.”

“So says the one that can only manage to succeed once in ten tries. By any metric you are so low as to dwell in the abyssal void.”

The Eidolon of Sut’s skeletal jaw clenched.

“This has been explained. The success rate is within known parameters. Give me younger subjects if you want greater numbers. Give me children in wombs and I will not fail. This is my pledge, on my name as Sut’s Will.”

“That is not in our treaty,” Al said.

Yes, the process success rate would increase exponentially, but at the cost of the mother’s life.

“Changes can be made. I have several members of their Congress in my sway. As I’m sure, all of you— with the exception of Adras’ will— do as well. It is a simple matter to lead them to our ends.”

“We are honor bound to keep our word. Both the letter and the intent.”

Al had done his best to keep the inherent enmity between him and the Eidolon of Sut from rising beyond the simmering lip of the pot. It had helped that he had spent as much time out of the other’s presence.

Their Gods clashed, thus so did they.

“Children granted a seat at the table do well to listen and observe until they grow worthy to speak,” the Eidolon of Sut said.

“I stand with Adras’ Will in this,” the Eidolon of Salla said. “There are many reasons why granting you unborn children is a mistake.”

The Eidolon of Sut sketched a mocking bow.

“Illuminate,” he commanded.

“You do not have authority over me.”

“Proceed, Salla’s Will,” the Eidolon of Sunor said.

Her brow creased.

“This world has a fraction of its pre-spires population. It is foolish to remove breeders when we need more.”

“Then we bring our own to replace. Sut knows that there are many worlds that have more people than they need.”

“Yes, but that is a waste of resources, time and effort. This world already has people. We must use them wisely,” the Eidolon of Salla said. “Next… your desires would turn them against us and our Gods. This has been born out through history. Or have you forgotten?”

The Eidolon of Sut’s gaze sharpened.

“Is your process not anathema on all the civilized worlds in the pantheon? Oh, wait, not on Sut’s worlds. You still perform them though you do it in the dark to hide from watchful eyes.”

The Eidolon of Sut’s thin mouth split into a too-wide smile.

“Salla’s Will is incorrect in one regard. We don’t hide. You see and know. Yet, none stop us. Do you know why? It’s because every God in the pantheon needs what we provide. Some are honest about it. While others pretend to hold their noses so that their so-called honor remains intact in their minds.”

“I’ve slain many an Eidolon of Sut for their perversions when I find them on Salla’s worlds.”

“And yet, none of those things apply on this world,” the Eidolon of Sut spread long, spindly arms wide enough to embrace all of the gathered.

“Continue, Salla’s Will,” the Eidolon of Sunor said.

“The Quests,” the Eidolon of Salla sad. “The rewards are too great to give up this soon.”

Ruffling feathers drew their gazes to the Eidolon of Ekra.

“The situation isn’t as dire as you’d make. Though we haven’t gained ground. We haven’t lost it either. If you’ve listened to my reports and read them, which I certainly hope you have due to all the effort I put into them, you’d remember that of the multitude of invaders, none have achieved what could be considered success. The greatest failures no longer exist and the greatest successes find themselves constrained to tiny patches of territory around the spires they emerged from. I believe that you should be focusing on the common threads,” she shrugged.

“That is the difficulty,” the Eidolon of Sunor said. “I find myself struggling to focus. You know of the visit I had received. What you don’t know is that it was like what Adras’ Will experienced. You ask me to bear Enysomen’s Crown, Salla’s Will… I already have. Repeatedly. It is as we all witnessed. An empty gap in our memories that nothing can fill. No magic, no artifact, no divine gift has penetrated this inscrutable madness.”

“May we request an Eidolon of Enysomen?” Al said.

The God claimed memory as a part of her portfolio.

If any could help it was one of her Wills.

“The Quests,” the Eidolon of Salla said.

“We must consider the value of downgraded rewards when weighed against no rewards at all,” the Eidolon of Sut mused.

“I am not concerned with the Quests. Succeed or fail, it doesn’t matter in the greater for there will always be more Quests. Such is the way of the spires. My concern lies within. For when I consider a greater form of aggression, as Salla’s Will advocates for, I am filled with a dread that surpasses any I have felt before. To simply consider taking stronger action to further our goals makes my thoughts recoil as though I was a simple animal and not Sunor’s Will. It takes me back to days I don’t remember, though I know must exist. Adras’ Will, you were a hunter, I imagine it is how one of your countless prey has felt a thousand times. Instinctive fear of looming destruction, death and worse.”

Al’s eyes bulged.

He hadn’t know the Eidolon of Sunor long, but everything about her recalled that of a statue carved out of granite.

Perfection in form and function.

To him, she had been as far above him as he was a mortal.

Closer to her God than he was to his.

He would’ve wagered any amount of coin against the possibility that he’d witness such a display of honest vulnerability.

Remembering his hunter’s instincts he focused his attention on the other eidolons.

The Eidolon of Sut licked his lips with a faint sneer.

The Eidolon of Salla’s scowl could’ve split a mountain.

The Eidolon of Ekra had actually taken a step back.

“We are the same, Adras’ Will,” the Eidolon of Sunor held his gaze.

For the first time he sensed that it was as equals rather than senior and junior.

“A half-remembered conversation. One which has informed all of my decisions with stark clarity, yet I couldn’t say why.”

“This is why you stayed our hands? Why you decreed that we wouldn’t directly aid our allies in battles to reclaim their land.” The Eidolon of Salla’s scowl deepened. “Such information would’ve been useful the moment you had it. To keep it to yourself for half a year—” she bit her tongue. “To keep it to yourself for half a year was a grave strategic and tactical error. We could’ve come up with a counter in that time.”

“It was instinct that stayed my tongue. For I knew with a certainty that I cannot explain…” the Eidolon of Sunor’s perfect facade cracked. “Death, destruction and worse. That is what I knew awaited all of us had I done anything other than what I have done.”

“An enemy that we know nothing about. That two of our number have apparently spoken to. That can reach us deep within our sanctums. And I thought this world had no Gods,” the Eidolon of Salla said.

“It is no matter. All worlds have their native protectors. Such has always been the way. One only need look to history.” The Eidolon of Sut raised a brow at the Eidolon of Salla. “This is no different. We need information to combat the enemy. I agree with Salla’s Will on this.”

“The simple thought of taking small steps to that end fills me with crushing dread,” the Eidolon of Sunor said.

“A leader afraid can’t lead effectively,” the Eidolon of Salla said.

“I fear that which I cannot name, nor remember. I do not fear anything else on this world.”

Steel returned to the Eidolon of Sunor’s voice.

All hints of vulnerability fled her statuesque form.

Her aura made Al take a step back.

None of the other eidolons managed to stand against her.

Sunor had ruled the pantheon since before recorded history despite all the war within and without.

Eons of rule, though not unchallenged, remained secure.

His eidolons embodied that.

This one was said to be ancient.

The oldest amongst the eidolons sent to fight for this world.

Al suspected that a contest between her and the rest of them would be rather one-sided in her favor.

“Then we have another threat to contend with in addition to the Cruces,” the Eidolon of Salla said. “Except, this one can’t be named or identified and the mere though of it triggers an existential dread in our mightiest. The first step to combating an enemy is to know it.”

A sudden thought gripped Al.

The strongest in recent memory.

He spoke before realizing it.

Though, he knew that it’d make him appear the coward and bring dishonor to Adras’ name.

“Ker— Sunor’s Will, I- I have words for you.” He drew a deep breath into his mighty chest. “‘This counts’.” He sagged as he released the air. “I can’t explain where or from who, but I know it to be a message. As well as the knowledge that our allies’ great weapons have been sent to the solar orb.”

Questions bombarded him and he repeated the same answers.

“We’ve found the missing half,” the Eidolon of Salla sounded disgusted.

“Poor timing, Adras’ Will,” the Eidolon of Ekra sighed. “Why didn’t you share this information with the rest of it?”

The Eidolon of Sunor hadn’t so much as blinked since the moment Al had almost spoken her true name.

How had he known what it was?

“None of our measures detected that Adra’s Will had spoken anything, but the full truth earlier,” the Eidolon of Sut said. “None of mine…” he muttered.

More words spewed from Al’s mouth.

“Escalation is bad for us and our allies. Empathy is the key to understanding others.”

“Have we allied with the wrong people?” The Eidolon of Ekra spared him for the moment. “Consider the facts. The Americans failed to achieve their objectives. They captured a handful of armories, but they failed to capture their great weapons. Those armories are all but useless. Their greatest warriors were defeated by a single flying human. One of these Cruces? If so which one?” She shrugged her wings.

“Fog of war,” the Eidolon of Salla eyed the Eidolon of Sunor. “It bears repeating we can’t fight and expect to win if we don’t even know the enemy we’re fighting.”

Through it all, the Eidolon of Sunor’s gaze bored into Al’s like some great beast intent on soft, young prey.

“It’s as the Gut-ripper Shrike and the Red-frilled Eviscerator sharing the one watering hole in the plains,” he said.

Though why he said it?

He didn’t know.

“It is too late for an accord. We are honor bound to the Americans. We have given our Gods’ word,” the Eidolon of Sunor said.

“What good will your honor do you in defeat and death?” the Eidolon of Sut scoffed. “Your God may be satisfied with that. Mine won’t. Victory or death. That is all and ever will be.”

“That is why you lose in war,” the Eidolon of Salla said. “Only fools and the dead don’t consider all possibilities. Defeat in today’s battle can lead to victory tomorrow. Death leaves one without tomorrow’s chance. Dishonor? Only if we abandon our allies. I envision something different. If their leaders’ impatience will lead them to death then is it not our duty as the guiding hands of an older sister to steer them along the right path to their eventual ascendance from their primitive ways? Would that not be the honorable way?”

The silence stretched for hours as each eidolon delved into their own thoughts.

Al’s mind was a chaotic sea that he struggled to calm.

Why had he spoken in such a manner?

He slammed his head against the question as though it were an adamantine wall.

It was only then that he realized how exhausted his mind was.

An entirely new world of people and cultures.

One that he didn’t have the luxury of time, comfort or safety to study.

It was how he navigated the interactions between sapients.

Such things didn’t come naturally to him as breathing in the sea was for fish.

For him, it was as though he were the fish flopping around in the desert sands.

Unlike the fish that could never learn to breathe above the waves, he could learn to act as sapients expected.

It wasn’t easy and it took time.

Time that he hadn’t had on this world.

He had gone from labor to labor, killing monsters or helping rebuild.

He had never simply walked among the people to learn their ways.

Ronald, his liaison, was a fine companion, but one wasn’t enough to gain an understanding of the many Earth humans’ ways.

It occurred to him that the isolation was by the design.

The American leaders clearly feared that he would draw their people to Adras by the majesty of his sheer presence.

He had studied the history of other worlds and cultures.

The constant struggle of those in power to remain in control.

He reached a resolution.

The Eidolon of Salla was right.

The older and more experienced must lead the younger and inexperienced.

“We have time,” the Eidolon of Sunor broke the silence. “By your gazes, I see an accord.”

Each nodded.

“Our guidance shall be more direct,” she regarded Al, “the goal is to share the watering hole for as long as possible. Let this world’s protectors focus their ire on others. So long as we live then we have opportunity.” She turned to the Eidolon of Salla. “To find weaknesses and vulnerabilities. To bring more of our strength to this world. Though the spires create conflict, we are sapient beings. Not animals enslaved to our instincts. We don’t simply attack those that threaten our territory. Coexistence is possible. Perhaps even these threats can be led into our Gods’ divine light. We would achieve much acclaim, honor and favor by bringing such power into the service of the pantheon.”

Captain Patriot’s office wasn’t much larger than a decent-sized storage closet.

The decor was almost non-existent.

One plastic folding table for a desk and a handful of plastic folding chairs stacked near the front door completed the image of someone that didn’t care about the trappings of status.

The only other things inside were a green potted plant and a small wooden bookshelf.

Nicholas walked inside and placed a chair in front of the empty desk.

He checked his watch.

It was unusual for the captain to be anything other than early.

She had said once that if he wasn’t five minutes early then he was five minutes late.

Only the once because her disappointment was the worst thing in the world.

He waited in silence before checking his watch again.

The captain was ten minutes late. So that meant, by her standards, she was fifteen minutes late. Not that he’d mention it to her.

He stood and perused her reading material.

Nothing stood out at first, just books on leadership, military history and the like.

Until he came across something unexpected.

“She reads comics?” he mused.

A trade paperback.

He knew what it was from being exposed by the other guys in his unit over the years.

Essentially, a collection of individual issues in one book.

There had been a scant handful of them available in the years he had been confined to the bunker complex.

Precious treasures brought by people, young and old, as they fled the monsters.

The one in his hand reminded him of those.

Its thick spine was creased. The edges showed white were the color had been rubbed off along with the card stock and paper. The front cover was marred by a circle of water damage from where someone must’ve placed a glass.

He flipped through the dog-eared pages, admiring the artwork.

“Weird… it’s like a painting.”

He had never seen the style used in a comic book.

Several characters looked familiar, except a lot older.

The bat guy was a white-haired old man in this one. Forced to wear what looked like an exoskeleton to move.

He suddenly lost interest when he turned to a page showing the strongest superhero in his blue spandex and red cape singlehandedly defeating a dozen enemies in the space of one page while rescuing a weird, hanging train car full of civilians.

The image struck a little close to home after his personal experience against a superstrong flying man.

“At least the fucker didn’t have heat vision.” He returned the book.

Booted steps echoed down the hallway.

He faced the open door and saluted as the captain appeared.

She returned it briskly.

“As you will, lieutenant.”

The captain’s movement was still off three weeks after that disastrous fight.

She had suffered a tremendous amount of damage in the aftermath. Too much of her white light had been spent to fight that smug asshole. It enhanced and healed, but its effects vanished if it wasn’t being actively used. Her injuries had been brutal. Multiple broken limbs, torn muscles and ruptured organs.

The medics and doctors hadn’t been certain that she’d make it through the first two days in the aftermath.

Fortunately, even without her white light her body was superhuman.

It had been a shattering experience in more ways than one.

Crushing defeat was bad enough, but to see your icon shattered in a way she had never been—

He pushed the thought from his mind.

The dim white light in her eyes hidden by the blindfold pierced his.

She didn’t want nor need pity.

It was a waste of energy.

She preferred her soldiers to focus on their tasks in the present and future.

Still, it was hard to watch her gingerly pull her chair back and take a seat.

He caught the micro-expressions on her face.

Physical pain.

She slid a thick folder across her desk.

One look at the first page and he closed it.

“My thoughts exactly,” she said.

“Am I being punished, sir?”

She held a finger to her lips before placing a pair of items on her desk.

Anti-surveillance devices.

A magic gem and a magitech device.

He didn’t like this at all.

The thought of not being safe and free in his home?

A home that he had fought and bled for without complaint since childhood.

The change was obvious. One would need to be blind and deaf to not have noticed.

Ever since the eidolons arrived…

“We need to be careful with our words. No countermeasure is a hundred percent effective a hundred percent of the time,” the captain said.

“Don’t like the sound of that, sir… if I’m being honest.”

“Neither do I.”

“Where did my orders come from?”

“From me. From the major. He didn’t share information beyond that.”

The need for info sec forced him to choose his words.

“Could it have something to do with what that asshole was talking about?”

“I don’t know with any certainty. All I have are suspicions, which are terrible things to have within our chain of command.”

“Seems like sending me all the way across the country confirms things?”

“Your abilities do make you the best candidate for this op.”

“They’re also perfect if someone wanted to look into, uh, what the guy said.”

“That too.”

“Maybe there’s time.” He opened the folder again, searching for the departure time. “I can check on things before leaving.”

“Tomorrow. You deploy tomorrow.”

His brow furrowed before he remembered himself.

“The doctor has me on rest for the next week and light duty for the next three. You know I’m not one to complain, but I’m going to complain. Everything is tender and sore. When I’m not lightheaded, I’ve got a headache.”

“It gets worse.” She gave him a stiff nod. “You will have zero support on the op. It’s up to you to arrange travel. Once there there will be no back up or exfil. You get yourself there and you get yourself out. However, I’m not abandoning you regardless of orders. While you’re there I will get you the support you need if I have to rip it out of them myself.”

The ‘them’ was obviously the eidolons, however he couldn’t stop himself from the disturbing thought that it might include his fellow soldiers.

“Understood,” he nodded. “I have a lot of reading and prep to do before tomorrow.”

“Yes… but see your family first. I struck the time of your departure. You have all of tomorrow before you have to leave. Give me a list of gear you want before 06:00. I will personally retrieve the best from the armories. No restrictions, regardless of what your orders say.”

The captain stood and held her hand out.

He took it.

“Thank you, sir.”