mbers of the Cabal had been hiding themselves for longer than humans — at least the ones from Earth — had been recording history. So were reclusive, their glamours not holding up to close scrutiny. Others were capable shape-shifters, blending unnoticed into human society.
ssengers were among the most capable in this regard. They could hide their wings, reduce their size and even diminish their natural beauty and compelling presence. Other inhuman traits, such as hair colour, could likewise be disguised. In this way, the ssengers had hidden themselves for millennia. Even many amongst the Cabal had considered the angelic founders of their collective a myth.
Fifteen years past the revelation of their existence, many were more relaxed about masking their nature. The wider cabal was often doing much the sa, from diminutive fairies to looming ogres. There were many advantages to the human form, however, even within Cabal facilities. When you were nine feet tall, with three-foot antlers, taking human form was just easier when you were in line for the handmade naan bread station at the cafeteria.
Boris Ket Lundi, or Boris Ketland, as he went by on Earth, had long been comfortable with human proportions. Those proportions had changed considerably over the years, his first visit to Earth predating the existence of humans on Earth by a considerable margin. He had once spent several millennia disguised as a celestine research assistant, studying the effect of magic on convergent evolution across universes. It had been a useful cover in scouting potential sites for hidden Unorthodoxy colonies.
Earth had been a bold choice for such a colony, being central to the scandal that saw the original Builder sanctioned. The gamble had paid off, however, as the Council of Kings saw no value in poking at the great astral beings and avoided the seemingly worthless world. It had been tricky to set up infrastructure to sustain gold and silver rankers on the low-magic world, but that was put in place before the rise of the early hominids. There was no way to allow diamond rankers to live there, but they were few in number anyway, and could take care of themselves.
Unlike the Council of Kings, Jason Asano was not afraid of jabbing transcendent beings and their interests. His ability to keep doing so without being spread across the concrete like an unfortunate jam spillage surprised even Boris, whose life experience spanned billions of years. He had marvelled at Jason, who had no concept of how often the hand of vengeance had been stayed by wildly unlikely circumstances or a bizarre confluence of transcendent agendas.
Even now, plans born long before Jason Asano were moving, unnoticed and unseen. Like the water of an underground river, few realising what was happening, right beneath their feet. The sches set into motion by Jason's outworlder predecessor, the Network founder, continued to play out. Boris had worked with the founder's own familiar to betray him to early magic societies that would eventually beco the Network.
That act had not stopped the clock the founder had set in motion, but it did allow them to accelerate the magical knowledge of Earth's fledgeling essence users. Not enough, but the deficit of magic on Earth was always going to be the limiting factor. The rising magic of the last century or so, had led to the Network becoming fully established.
Noreth had always been an unstable elent, and his increasingly extre and isolationist approach to advancing Earth's magic had been disastrous, in the end. His Engineers of Ascension had attempted to push magic forward through less conventional paths, but Boris had refused to participate. Noreth and his organisation's research was dangerous enough, without access to the knowledge of the cosmos.
In the end, Noreth had failed to realise that Asano was an ally and not an enemy agent until too late. His drastic move of disabling the grid had created the transformation zone crisis, almost destroyed the planet and spiked the magic level of the Earth.
Boris had co to the brink of revealing his ssengers to resolve the crisis, but Asano had managed it alone. Even so, the increased magic level and reduced stability of the Earth had accelerated the enemy tiline. The worst part was that Boris could do nothing, forced to let Jason play into enemy hands. The only alternative was to let the Earth be destroyed.
Ultimately, Jason's efforts had allowed the ssengers to remain hidden. The more Boris was forced to expose the presence of his people, the more likely they would be discovered by those out in the cosmos. Once revealed, the ssengers would need to leave or bring the wrath of the Orthodox ssengers down upon the Earth.
If Boris and his people had to leave, they would not be around for the war to co. That was an eventuality that he now accepted was more likely than not, after Noreth's actions. The dinsional bridge had needed to be put in place decades before previously necessary.
The likelihood of the ssengers being forced to leave and not be present for the war had pushed Boris to revisit an old decision. He had helped the Asano clan take up one of Noreth's projects, sothing he would never have done if Noreth was still alive. He trusted the clan, under Jason and his grandmother, to act more responsibly than the rune spider would have. He doubted it would be enough, but it would give the Earth a chance, at least. If he and his ssengers were not present to fight, they would desperately need it.
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Asano's detour with the Cosmic Throne had given them a precious fifteen extra years to prepare, but even that was pushing it. Much longer and signs of dinsional breakdown would have started to show. Now, the bridge was set in place. The Earth would heal over ti, but was opened to a new threat. Within a decade at most, the bridge would beco a true dinsional passage, no longer requiring sophisticated astral magic to cross.
Boris found himself forced to admire the plan. The World-Phoenix, Jason, Boris himself and many others played a part, each elegantly place to do their part. So, like Jason, were oblivious to their role, while Boris had no choice but to go along, despite knowing the outco. The World-Phoenix could not be forced, manipulated or deceived. It simply didn't care what happened, so long as the Earth's dinsional stability was ultimately restored. The enemy used that disinterest, relying on the World-Phoenix doing what it would have done anyway.
Dawn had been a surprise to Boris. He had not expected the World-Phoenix's agent to form such a connection with Jason, although that seed to be the man's true talent. He made friends or enemies, and little in between, everyone either loving or hating him. Even Boris quite liked the man. He had an inkling that the enemy had been equally surprised by Dawn's behaviour, and took hope in that. He didn't know exactly what she had done for Jason, but was certain she'd taken actions beyond the mandate of her great astral being. It could be the thing that saved them all.
Boris contemplated all of this from the Cabal main headquarters, in what was once the Democratic Republic of Congo. The Cabal's influence in Africa was greater than that of the other magical factions, but the forr DRC was one of the few regions where it had outright seized power. The Cabal preferred to operate in a supporting role with existing governnts, but several areas had proven too unstable after the rise of magic.
He sat in a room that looked like a security office, with an array of monitors on one wall. Running on loops was all the footage of Asano's return publicly available, and quite a few that weren't. Boris sat at a desk where a computer held every docunt and report they could get on Asano and what the powers of Earth had done in preparation for his return.
The dia had only just been cleared to announce that Jason was back. There had been so inevitable leaks, but Jason Asano was a na of the past. His na alone caused a stir, but no great waves. He was a na from the earliest days of magic, and the world had moved on. The interest in him was rising now, ramping up as footage of his dramatic arrival was released. Carefully curated, of course.
The public interest still wasn't at the level that Boris knew would inevitably co. They didn't understand the scale or context of what was happening, but that would change over ti. The next fight would not be one of powers and violence but image and ssaging. Whether to mobilise the world, or maintain the status quo, the key was controlling the narrative. He was frustrated at his inability to put his hand on that scale. He had already revealed himself more than was wise, especially with cosmic eyes now pointed at Earth.
Boris sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. He wondered yet again if it was the right move to let things play out, keeping Asano in the dark. And he ca to the sa conclusion as always, as much as he disliked it. Jason's penchant for extre-risk solutions would undoubtedly rear its head if he found out what was coming.
The only real tool Asano would have to fight the outco was his connection to the dinsional bridge, and Boris was not the only one who wouldn't allow it to be endangered. If sothing happened to it now, it would almost certainly undo the Earth, and possibly Pallimustus as well.
Boris looked up at the image of Jason fighting the cosmic invaders, knowing that Earth had to be ready for worse. They had to make the most of the next decade, and Jason had to be the catalyst. His unique position, hovering between protector and threat, was the exact motivation that the Earth needed.
He stood, just as the door opened. Tera Jun Casta entered, her eyes finding Asano's image on the monitors. There was a lot of baggage there that needed to be carefully unpacked, now that Asano was back.
"Are you going to Australia?" she asked.
"Yes. Do you want to join ?"
She looked back at the screens.
"Yes. No."
She bowed her head and mumbled at the floor.
"I don't know."
He reached up to give her a comforting pat on the shoulder. She was one of the few ssengers who kept her wings and much of her size, even indoors. Her towering height of almost seven feet made life awkward, but little more than humans of similar stature. Her looming form was incongruous with her cute, rounded facial features and brassy-haired pixie cut.
"Maybe wait," Boris suggested in a soft voice. "Things are hectic right now. Give them ti to settle."
She nodded. Boris patted her on the shoulder again and left her in the office, watching the recordings of Jason.
***
Colours swirled over the navigation table on the bridge of Admiral Jakaar's flagship. Dinsional maps were abstract, shifting things, as traversing astral geography was wholly unlike navigating physical reality. Ti and space beca arguably and variably the sa thing, wholly at odds with each other, or non-existent entirely.
One of the less discussed aspects of being a diamond-ranker was how approaching the peak of mortal power granted glimpses of what lay beyond. Jakaar could feel the flow of the cosmos, like a voice slightly too distant to make out clearly. When he nudged up against the higher rules of the cosmos, that voice beca clearer, although he didn't always like what it said.
In this case, he could feel the rules of intrusion. They were telling him that the fragile backwater universe containing Earth was still unavailable to him, even through gold-rank catspaws. Enough ti had passed that his people should have either finished the job or reported their failure.
The link between this universe and the other was impossible to miss, to the point of almost blinding his vessel's sensors to anything else. He had his fleet running patrols in case of ambush. He wouldn't normally expect as much, out in this backward, cosmic crevice, but the continued silence from his most reliable gold rank agent spiked his instincts. He had the feeling that he was sohow being played, and he didn't like it. Wishing he'd given more credence to Jota's misgivings, he slapped a hand on the navigation table in frustration.
"Keeley?"
"Yes, Admiral?"
"Collect what we have about Earth. Scouting reports, transcripts of every communication when we were cutting the deal, everything. Send it to my stateroom."
"Of course, Admiral."
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