Abaddon had to comnd Yesh. True omnipotence was nothing to sneeze at.
This level of knowledge and familiarity was really nothing to sneeze at.
He could see so much now. It was horrible.
Ordinarily, Abaddon’s mind is like a vast library of knowledge that allows him to pull information off the shelves at his leisure if he needs a refresher on the details.
But, what was happening now was almost completely different and much more terrifying.
The problem wasn’t that Abaddon could see. It was that he couldn’t forget.
Every single bit of knowledge that he could have observed, he did. Constantly.
And all of the information stayed just at the front of his cerebellum.
He had so much information that his mind was trying to process at once that his mind was actually starting to overheat from the sheer volu.
Abaddon had seen infinity. He had played wth the concept as he wished and taught her everything she knew about herself.
But this was bigger than his daughter.
Alternate tilines, unique worlds, concepts, natural laws, and the passage of ti over all of them.
This wasn’t Infinity. This was Eternity.
Abaddon knew by na everything that was long dead. He watched it all die, too.
He watched the ashes of what was, pave the way for what would be. And he knew the nas of what would co as well as when.
His knowledge eclipsed everything. Everyone.
It reached a point where his mind started to fracture.
He couldn’t so easily differentiate himself from everyone else he was seeing.
Was he not everyone? Wasn’t everything a little part of him, and vice versa?
He knew their stories, their lived experiences, so well that it was like they were his own.
It dawned on him how big a problem he was in for when he could not easily rember his own na.
Abaddon tried forcefully to narrow his range of vision.
He tried his best to focus on his truest lived experiences. On his own flow of events.
Gradually, the entirety of what he was seeing diminished into but a sliver.
To make things better, everything around him was still.
He could see that he was on the edge of a great battle.
Fiona’s forces had been pulled through a wormhole to the location of the hostages. Michael had arisen from the coffin in the unique body that Abaddon had created.
Yog-Sothoth was about to be hit by a powerful beam, which would inevitably force him to start considering retreat.
But as of right now, he couldn’t do anything. None of them could.
Abaddon felt himself slipping through ti again when he beca too comfortable. He once again witnessed the day when the sun exploded in this corner of space.
He watched as the fires of the supernova rained down on a vile race of twisted humanoids that expanded their numbers by infecting other living organisms like vampires.
An entire sector of the universe went dark in a little over a day.
Abaddon felt disturbing feelings settle in his chest.
Guilt. Grief. There were nurous ways to describe what he was feeling, and at the sa ti, none of them were enough.
This was the first ti that Abaddo n had ever been directly involved in this many mass deaths before. (That he rembered.)
Trillions of lives extinguished with a re thought from him. And though he probably could have chosen to save so of them, he chose not to.
Abaddon had gone forward in ti to see what the planets in this section of space would beco if they were left unchecked.
The devastation they would leave in their wake ant that they had to go.
Abaddon knew this, but back then, he was a much more sentintal deity. He wondered for years afterward if he had actually done the right thing.
Adult, older Abaddon didn’t want his past self to waste all of that ti torturing himself instead of living happily with his wives.
He attempted to send his voice back into the past. To tell himself that it was okay for him to move on.
He stopped almost as quickly as he began.
This kind of activity definitely seed like the kind of thing he should have stayed far, far away from, or the potential temporal ramifications could have been disastrous.
Ti rages when it’s forced to overlap. eting and talking to yourself, if not done stably, can and has produced shockwaves that destroyed whole tilines.
Abaddon wasn’t willing to risk sothing like that. Not to solve this kind of non-issue.. That would have been unbelievably foolish on his part.
’...’ As Abaddon’s vision started to widen again, he maintained enough of his consciousness to ponder a particular dilemma.
He couldn’t go back in ti to solve problems that happened while he was around, but what about the ones that occurred without his knowledge...?
As Abaddon was now, he didn’t have to limit himself to just this lifeti’s lived experiences. He could insert himself anywhere.
If he reached beyond the bounds of just this tiline, he could protect Lisa before she was ever hard by that man. The sa for Valerie. He could leave a note telling his mother where to find his father.
Or even...
So semblance of clarity returned to Abaddon’s eyes. Though there remained a great deal of physical and ntal anguish.
Abaddon’s body broke down into a silver, powdery mist.
He vanished from that cold, dead region of space just as Ayaana and Zahara arrived to look for him.
"W-What happened!? Where did he go?!"
Ayaana tried not to show how panicked she was, but she, just like Zahara, had beco a bundle of nerves ever since they first heard their husband scream.
She tried to follow his trail, but sohow, it was as if he had phased through a wall and left them on the other side with no way to get around.
The only thing she was certain of was that he was getting farther and farther away. And ti was not returning to normal in his absence.
"Darling... look."
Slowly, Zahara pointed towards Yog-Sothoth.
Right before their eyes, the bright green mass of energy was disappearing.
He was not fleeing, and he certainly wasn’t dying; rather, it was as if ti itself was correcting an existence that didn’t belong in this place...
Ayaana had never seen anything like it. And yet, her mind was impossibly sure of the validity in what she was seeing.
Monts later, Ayaana brought a hand up to her chest.
A part of her soul, or souls, felt lighter. She felt the urge to cry from relief, but she did not know the reason why.
"My love..?"
It appeared as though Ayaana’s feeling wasn’t an exclusive one.
Zahara also looked like she was being overtaken by a surprising range of emotions.
When the two looked at each other, for so reason, they felt as though they had been together for much, much longer than the decade or so they knew of.
They reached out to touch each other, just as ti spat Abaddon back out into their present; he scread in anguish as light seed to be pouring out of his vessel.
Imdiately, Zahara and Ayaana went to his aid in a clear panic.
The very first thing they attempted to do was absorb so of the energy pouring out of him.
To their surprise, it was temporal energy. The kind that powers ti-travelling spells and even the technology used by the Order.
The surprising part wasn’t the energy’s nature, though. It was the sheer amount that was stored inside of him.
With the two of them working together, they were able to absorb most of the energy and made it so that Abaddon no longer looked like he was going to overload.
Abaddon let out a final, weak groan, and ti finally went back to normal.
The blast that Michael had fired, with it’s target now missing, shot straight towards the married dragons.
His horror was apparent.
"GET DOWN! IT’S-"
Zahara swished her golden tail and knocked the blast aside.
The beam of energy smashed into the already destroyed moon and reduced it to re cosmic dust.
Michael let his, or Abaddon’s jaw drop from the absurdity.
"Ah... good.. good move." He held up his thumb.
Currently, Michael was wielding leagues more power than he ever had in his entire life. An attack like that would have been enough to one-shot him, but Zahara didn’t even have a single mark on her tail from deflecting it.
Sotis, life was indeed not fair.
"Te tue, auphanm, bea..."
Michael looked past the wives towards Abaddon.
The dragon was sweating. Michael had never seen him sweat before.
He looked to be in so sort of trance that was being exacerbated by a high fever.
Even in the grip of his wives, he tossed about in his wives’ embrace as he spoke in complete gibberish.
"What is ailing him??" Michael floated forward with a worried brow. "Why is he saying that nonsense..?"
It wasn’t until then that Zahara and Ayaana realized that Abaddon was not speaking English, or even nevi’im.
Rather, he was speaking in a tongue that only the two of them could understand. The First Language.
"He..." Ayaana swallowed. "He said he did it. He said he shut the door."
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