In the Angelic Realm, life was as calm as always. It had been a little bit more than a century since the angels and demons had waged war on each other and all they needed to really do was protect humans from demons who dared breach the treaty.
Those kinds of demons were plenty, but there was a departnt of angels who looked over that.
The departnt of Communications, located in a pristine hall that was illuminated by floating orbs of holy light, had another very calm day. Shimring scrolls of ongoing transmissions floated in the air, and ssengers of light bustled about the place.
Every angel in work that day had been assigned to monitor their respective flow of divine ssages and ensure the safety of their celestial frequency. It was a position of honor and responsibility. It was also one of the best places to slack off.
Amid that ordered harmony, one angel, Rhael, sat in his designated post. His long golden hair had been tied up in a sleek ponytail. His golden halo humd gently above his head, as he ensured that his slot of transmissions worked as they were expected to. It was easy work, although it required an angel who had mastery over their halo and all of its functions.
Rhael was good at his job, and was considered one of the more ticulous angels despite having been placed in the slower docks.
He rested a hand lazily on his control panel, absentmindedly spinning a quill between his fingers. His eyes lazily scanned the faintly glowing scrolls in front of him.
Below his table, in a box, were a few scrolls which did not glow like the others. Many of them Rhael had found there when he had been moved to the Departnt of communications, while he had just added a few others. These were those scrolls of communication that had been compromised in one way or another.
"Nothing ever happens here," he muttered under his breath, his voice lost in the soothing hum of the hall. "Why does the council even bother assigning so many of us to this departnt?"
One of the older angels walking past laughed, his heightened hearing having heard Rhael’s words, "To keep you youngins from causing trouble elsewhere."
Rhael wanted to retort that he was nearing his five hundredth birthday, but bit his tongue seeing as the older angel was more than three tis his age. "At least when Arella was here, the place was interesting." He grumbled under his breath, rembering how she had once doused an angel with holy water because he had thought it a good idea to propose that they get engaged for their families.
Arella had retorted that she would rather beco an exiled angel than marry a cousin. Then she doused him in holy water before leaving.
Rhea chuckled at the mory. Although he and Arella had never spoken, he found her antics very amusing. How she was an angel of water with such a temper always astounded him.
His smile dropped when his halo flickered, an unnatural pulse made it hum and bob up and down fiercely.
He set his pen down and gave each of the scrolls in his quarter a once over, searching for the source of the anomaly.
That was when he heard it. "Permission to dock vehicle. Do you copy, over."
The voice, clear and definitely alien, echoed through his halo and into his ears. His eyes finally located the scroll where the transmission was coming from. He snapped his finger, sending a wave of holy power up to drag it down.
The voice was chanical, gruff, and utterly out of place in the frequencies. What was even more peculiar was that the transmission had gotten connected directly to Rhael’s halo.
His heart thudded in his chest as he straightned his back and wings, focusing on the scroll, trying to see whether or not the voice would co again.
"What in the na of the Lands..." he muttered as he scrambled to pick up his pen. The pen had been inscribed by thick runes, and was mainly used by those in the departnt of communication.
"This is cargo vessel R7-47. Requesting permission to dock. Do you copy, over." The voice ca again.
Rhael’s stomach sank. The words ’Cargo Vessel’? ’Dock’? He had no idea what those words ant. However, his training had prepared him for such a situation.
"Who is this," he gripped onto the pen tightly and quickly began to draw a rune on it, "You are transmitting to a restricted channel. Identify yourself imdiately."
A barrier spell floated from the rune he had drawn, successfully isolating the signal to prevent the intruder from spreading to other frequencies.
There was a pause on the other end as Rhael quickly drew another rune that would signal the head of the departnt of the anomaly at his station.
"What do you an restricted channel? Look buddy, I don’t know what ga you’re trying to play here, but I have got a schedule to keep and I am just trying to make a delivery. Do you copy, over?"
"Buddy?" That word was also foreign and Rhael stopped drawing the tracking rune he had been scribbling on the scroll.
There was another pause, followed by the sa chanical voice, "I was just following the coordinates I was given. If this is restricted, I can reroute, but I’ll need guidance. Over."
Coordinates? The word sounded even more strange to Rhael’s ears. The casual tone of the speaker unnerved him even more.
Just as he was finishing the last stroke of the tracking rune, the door to the departnt head’s office swung open and out flew a tall angel.
His wings ca to a stop to the side of Rhael’s station. "Tracking rune?"
"Almost completed, sir." Rhael spoke.
After he was done, another angel took the rune out of his hand. The tracers, who worked quickly on the tracking rune.
Quickly, they began returning results-- or rather, the lack of them. They could not figure out where on the three realms the disturber originated from.
Before Rhael could speak to the intruder, his superior raised his hand, and a stream of light flew from his finger to Rhael’s halo. He connected the other finger to his own halo and bent down to join the encased barrier that Rhael had made.
"Identify yourself imdiately,"
The voice on the other end hesitated before responding, now tinged with an edge of impatience. "Look here pal, I don’t know what kind of protocol this is, and why it was not clearly given in the contract I signed. Could’ve given us all an easier ti," The voice let out a sigh, "I am just a pilot driver trying to deliver cargo. The na’s Elan, Pilot of vessel R7 dash 47. I have a shipnt of... hold on... logs, fuel cells, and an auxiliary stabilizer unit."
The words tumbled out like riddles to both Rhael and his supervisor. Logs? Fuel cells? Auxiliary stabilizer?
A sinking feeling settled in Rhael’s chest. "What are you talking about?" Rhael finally asked, seeing that his senior was not planning on asking any questions himself.
The senior pulled himself out of the barrier, "Expand the tracking net," He instructed the trackers, "Search for any records in the archives of anomalies. Cross reference all the terms I say." He spat out the terms that had sounded foreign.
A younger tracer nearby hesitated, "Sir, the archive records for such terms are likely to take ti..."
"We do not have such ti!" The departnt head snapped, his holy power flaring, "Find out where this intrusion is from, imdiately."
The trackers scrambled to do as he had said, while Rhael, still connected to the transmission, felt a growing sense of unease. The pilot’s tone did not match that of one who had intentionally infiltrated their divine space.
"Elan," Rhael said cautiously, "This is your finaly warning. You have entered a restricted channel that was not ant for your vessel. Explain how you connected to..."
"I already told you man, I am using the line I was given to contact your station. I just need to drop this shipnt and go on my rry way, how about you let do that?"
This ti, the departnt head intervened. Rhael had not even noticed that the older angel had co back into the barrier, "You will not ’drop’ anything. Stand by while we determine your location and and the nature of your intrusion."
Elan laughed humorlessly, "Yeah, as much as I would love to do that, there is a growing field forming outside my vessel. So sort of... what is this? An energy barrier? Holy mother of Jesus, it’s starting to ss with my systems."
The oldest of the tracers looked up, a triumphunt look on his face, "Sir, the tracking rune is interracting this vessel." He called out, "We are detecting a spatial distortion!"
His head popped out of the barrier. "What was that? An unauthorized spatial distortion?" His voice bellowed.
Before anyone could answer, the pilot’s voice returned, now tinged with panic. "Hey! Hey! That barrier thing -- it’s pulling . I can’t stabilize the ship. Whatever the fuck you’re doing, fucking stop it!"
The departnt head raised his hands to sever the connection, but the transmission abruptly cut off on its own, and a shockwave of light rippled through the hall, causing the scrolls to flicker and sway violently in their enchanted stasis.
Just when a semblance of calm had washed over the angels in the departnt, a second voice broke through, "The connection is stable, the mission has been accomplished."
The scrolls lit up even more, and the departnt head quickly summoned his staff. The other angels scrambled to do the sa.
"Identify yourself." The departnt head bellowed.
All the scrolls had been compromised at this point and all the angels could hear the voice clearly through their halos. "Success," the voice continued to speak.
"Cut that connection! All of you." The departnt head waved his staff in a smooth arc, his robes billowing behind him.
"Sir there is sothing resisting our containnt spells. It is as though sothing is holding the connection open."
The departnt head slamd the base of his staff to the ground. His eyes glinted, "Destroy all of the scrolls. This instant!" He raised his staff, and began the destruction himself, "And soone please send word to the council. Sothing has breached our reality. We shall need to convene with the other league."
.
S/T:
Arella: (Enjoying her ti in the garden with her husband, unaware of the turmoil happening in the angel realm.)
Reviews
All reviews (0)