novelraw Chapter 161: Havenbrock's Beginning
Chapter 161: Havenbrock's Beginning
Kaelthyr
Pulse
Pulse
Pulse
And so the leylines went.
Or so I thought.
For all of the observations I’ve made, and in all of my attempts to dissect this foreign cipher, I was met with but a logical disunion; a marriage of chaos and reason bound together in an unholy matrimony.
The ebb and flow of these errant… pulses were unlike the simple cries of the young matriarch’s child.
Indeed, they held within them a greater sort of complexity, a layered collage of seemingly nonsensical noises.
Yet I could tell where noises ended and patterns began.
I was not yet too blinded by the truisms of draconic cultural primacy to simply ignore the potential of another truly foreign chorus, even if that chorus tore at the reaches of my very sanity.
So it was that I continued observing, scrutinizing, and analyzing these errant leylines, trying to formulate some form of connection, some sort of key to finally link the spoken word — or the delivery of the abstract concept — to these infernal noises.
So deep was I in my own thoughts, caught in between my critical dissection of the voidlings’ culture and my own attempts at uncovering the secrets to their novel leylines, that I failed to notice a sudden disruption.
It began softly, too softly to notice amidst the infernal demonic orchestra that was the earthrealmers’ communiques.
Yet it was in that unassuming softness — that totality of gentleness — that it evaded immediate concern.
Indeed, I’d only noticed it when it was already suffocating me, smothering me and my resonant chorus with an invisible cloth that wrapped, cinched, and then eventually lifted off of me all within a stray moment.
It was then, upon feeling my very soul blanketed — and then subsequently freed — that I understood this wasn’t a soft nor benign presence.
It was apathetic.
And it wanted to see as the blind clockmakers did, and indeed in the only way they could — by reaching out blindly in the dark.
The difference, however, was the sheer scale at work.
…
It couldn’t be.
It shouldn’t be.
…
And it probably wasn’t.
Because it couldn’t—
Captain Calico Li
This wasn’t something that could just be brushed off.
This couldn’t be written off as some rare case of mass hallucination.
One could make the argument that this was just some sort of stress-induced group psychogenic reaction spurred on by a litany of acute stressors striking in the midst of first contact, sure.
But it’d be too convenient of an explanation, too easy for what was in effect a moment of unparalleled sensitivity and importance.
Yet with all readings marked clear, and with no observable and objective data to work off of, there existed only one avenue to clear the now-stale air.
“Matriarch Kaelthyr, if I may have a word?”
“You may.” The dragon responded, her features arguably different — departing from that stalwart fortress of unassailable stoicism towards something far more mortal than she would’ve ever dared to admit… wariness.
It was as if she too had shared in our anomalous encounter.
“Did you experience anything out of the ordinary just now? Any auditory or acoustic anomalies?”
“No.”
“Alright… then did—”
“I observed a presence.” Kaelthyr stated bluntly and with an audible sense of severity coloring her words.
My heart sank as I feared the worst. The relevant bits and pieces of intel from Emma’s most recent conversations with Kaelthyr just prior to this exoreality entanglement episode made it clear the sorts of threats posed by our collective adversary. Chief among them — eavesdropping.
“Is it Nexian? Is the line compromised—”
“No. The presence of Nexianmeddlingis something I am well-versed with.Thisis most certainlynotone of such instances.”
“How can you be so sure? Isn’t there a possibility there might be methods not known to yo—”
“I am a dragon.” Kaelthyr sharply interjected. “I know the ebbs and flows of mana far more intrinsically than any measly mortal. I know its taste, its
essence. From the most careful of prods to the most complex of spells, I’ve seen them all. And I can assure you, this was not the doing of Elven or even Nexian hands.” The dragon spoke with a rumbling authority, very nearly causing me to flinch despite the degrees of separation involved in our dialogue. “This…presencecannot be Nexian, for it originates from theotherside of the veil.”I could hear the proverbial warp drive careening to an emergency stop as the room once again came to a complete and abrupt halt.
All eyes now turned to the dragon who’d taken center stage, with Weir in particular moving her eyes towards her own private workspace, one hidden from view by advanced clearances and security protocols.
The whole room waited with bated breath for Kaelthyr’s clarification, hoping for a definitive answer but just as much dreading the potential for the opposite.
“Though I know not what it may be. For the art of advanced resonance, on a scale such as this, is an unknown that carries with it the risk of enigmatic uncertainties.”
I could just about feel the silent and exasperated breaths of a hundred unsatisfied minds, the sense of frustration of some of the sharpest amidst the most inquisitive—
“Oh, but I potentially do.” A familiar voice suddenly interjected from the back of the room as the red-headed Jovian scientist returned to the forefront, his hands clasping the bridge of his glasses with a confident vigor. “We’ve theorized this a while back. A thought experiment, really, but it’s the closest hypothesis we have for this phenomenon. I posit that this may be some sort of interference, owing to a critical… ‘pressure’ differential of sorts between our two realities. And while Matriarch Kaelthyr’s open channel may indeed be rather resistant to such pressures in its initial stages, over time, there may be disruptions in the integrity and fidelity of such a connection.”
“That’d explain why it might ‘feel’ like the aberrancy came from our end.” I offered, garnering an increasingly frustrated glare from the dragon.
“Unlikely.” She replied bluntly. “But even in the unlikeliest of conditions, there exists a possibility that a fool may spout wisdom. So Iwillperform my own ruminations.”
“Acceptable.” Ivo responded with a nod. His features, however, told a wholly different story, as he attempted to bottle the indignancy incurred by Kaelthyr’s jabs for the sake of exo-reality diplomacy. “I’ll have my team working on this matter as well.” The scientist then turned to Weir, nodding silently.
“Thank you, Doctor.” Weir acknowledged with a tired breath before turning to me.
There was something behind the Director’s eyes that carried with it that twinge of knowing uncertainty, an unspoken fear that any Ranger could spot a mile away. It was that familiar look of tepid anxiety, of knowingly leaping for that next jump without proper debris clearance, or knowingly relying on a sensor report riddled with literal and figurative holes.
This fact was exemplified the next moment she spoke.
“We are still operating under the Cadet’s invocation of General Order 37a, correct?”
“Yes.” I acknowledged firmly, not only answering the Director’s question but also assuaging what was a half-hidden attempt at reaffirming our next tentative steps forward.
“Then let us proceed.” Weir nodded before once again gesturing towards the awaiting wolf prince.
Thalmin
Something had happened.
Though I understood not what it was.
The voices on the other end were panicking despite their best attempts to maintain a stoic presence of professionalism.
And yet… I felt nothing. Despite very well noticing and very much observing the discomfort growing in the dragon herself.
Yet the constant reaffirmations from both parties, acknowledging and then disparaging the potential for Nexian meddling, were enough to put the worst of my worries to rest.
Void spirits be damned; so long as the Nexus stayed out of this, I was happy to proceed.
Because if all parties were truly satisfied, if all present — dragon and earthrealmers alike — wished to move forward, then there was no reason not to. Especially upon hearing that Earthrealm scholar’s postulations.
For if this truly was as he said, then time was now sweeping towards a foregone conclusion.
We needed to address both of our aims now.
“Captain.” I urged, just about the same time the captain did from the other side.
“Prince Havenbrock.”
We both stuttered as a result, though it was in this mutual desire to accelerate our proceedings that we shared a collective cough of polite reconciliation.
“Were my explanations satisfactory?” I offered, garnering an immediate and hasty response.
“Indeeed they were, Prince Havenbrock.” The captain replied. “So now that we have the Who and the Why squared away, we now need to dip into the What of things.” He began uncharacteristically plainly, very much preparing for another onslaught of military theory. A welcome departure back into my neck of the woods.
Dr. Laura Weir
The unexpected bandwidth brought with it an additional bonus, aside from a direct channel of communication and the associated data dump.
“Cadet Booker?”
It brought with it the possibility of multiple vectors of communication.
“Yes, Dr. Weir?”
So whilst the Captain and the Prince could dissect the intricacies of what monstrous fates awaited us at the hands of this ‘Nexus,’ we could simultaneously maintain a separate channel of dialogue.
“I see you’ve taken my recommendations for personal initiative to heart.” I began warmly.
“I-I apologize if I had in any way overstepped my bounds in either a diplomatic or military capa—”
“This isn’t a dressing down, Cadet.” I interjected calmly. “It’s a commendation. Or rather, a compliment. Take it in stride, please.”
“Will do, ma’am.” The Cadet resisted nodding, a fact that would’ve given this second concurrent dialogue away.
“I’m impressed to say the least. You’ve managed to push the mission in a completely different direction, one which, I must say, aligns with what I would’ve done in your shoes.” I continued. “You were right, at least as it appears so far, to have rescinded further efforts in pursuing a course of diplomatic engagement with the Nexus. Bad faith actors, especially ones as brazen as these representatives of the Nexian state, cannot be effectively courted or approached. At least not with the limited capacity you find yourself in. The course you charted, this… Adjacent Realm Pivot was the right call, and the only call you can feasibly pursue with any hope of productive dialogue.”
The Cadet’s features remained stoic as she replied with that same respectful bluntness. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Moreover, your efforts with your ‘peer group’ prove that there exists hope in our original charter. Prince Havenbrock is a clear example of this, and the fact that you even have a Nexian noble reevaluating his position on their deluded sense of primacy is astounding in and of itself.”
“But if I may, ma’am. I doubt actual meaningful dialogue can be sustained with Lord Rularia. The fact he’s in the immediate Nexian sphere and is directly beholden to Nexian hierarchies makes it a moot point.”
“A fair assessment. But still, having someone sympathetic to our cause within the Nexian system is powerful in and of itself.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“But that’s neither here nor there. I approve of your current trajectory, and indeed, I wish to officially endorse it.”
“Ma’am?”
“It’s clear, at least to me, that in the coming months and years, exo-reality foreign policy will be dominated by a shift towards establishing a sphere of influence with these Adjacent Realms. There will be arguments, of course, as there always are. There will be debates, and there may be referendums on age-old policies preemptively legislated for a preconception of xeno-diplomacy that no longer exists. But at the end of the day, a desire to ensure peace will dominate above all. At which point, the only peaceful resolution towards what is clearly an inevitable Nexian aggression is a pivot towards establishing lasting alliances with these states. You, Emma, will be instrumental in laying the foundation of this new national agenda.”
The Cadet paused, her eyes shaking in place and darting from left to right. As if attempting to process it all.
“I understand this is a lot to ask from you, Cadet. But know that I’m not expecting you to pull a General Secretary Li. I’m merely acknowledging what you seem to already be doing, and simply reaffirming that this — at least until stated otherwise — will be the official direction moving forward.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”
“Your military objectives remain the same. Scout, recon, and report back anything you find over there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And as for your standing orders… they remain unchanged.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, and just one more thing, Cadet.”
“Ma’am?”
“I see there’s been some unexpected developments as it pertains to this… Princess Dilani.”
The Cadet’s features shifted towards something completely different this time around, as her eyes averted from the camera, and her cheeks flushed a slight tinge of red.
“The findings made over this unexpected 30th manatype, and the suit’s lack of resistance to it, are concerning.” I continued, causing the cadet to hastily cough, once more making eye contact with the camera.
“Ah, y-yes, ma’am. That… that was one thing I needed to discuss, before the conversation over the Nexus’ capabilities came into the picture.”
“I am aware.” I nodded. “We will look into this. But as for right now, I need you to continue collecting data whenever possible regarding this. Your EVI should be able to piece together some clues. Impose upon it a dedicated subroutine for this effort.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Captain Calico Li
Sure enough, we were back in the races, as threat analysis indexes were once again superimposed across our shared virtual workspaces.
Pillar I of the six pillars had been thoroughly addressed, and to say it was enlightening was a massive understatement.
Because it confirmed exactly what I’d feared and nearly everything wrong that could’ve come out of this intel-gathering session.
It confirmed — at least from a command and control perspective — that the Nexus was wildly flexible, yet coherent in its operational doctrine.
There were clearly defined strategic and tactical considerations made, so much so that a simple and concise recount painted a picture more reminiscent of a modern grip on effective and adaptable warfare than what the superficial aesthetics of this ‘Nexus’ might have initially hinted at.
We were dealing with an enemy that, while politically fractured, had the internal framework capable of sustaining the practical side of force projection. And when the cards were down, that’s what truly mattered in a first-strike scenario.
But I was getting ahead of myself.
This was just one of the pillars.
It didn’t matter just how effective intent and framework were if the practical boots-on-the-ground reality couldn’t match it.
It was now time to unfold this paper tiger.
“We need to discuss Points II and III of my analysis.” I began with a steady breath, picking up the pace from where we left off. “Throughput and Scale, as well as Range and Precision respectively. For the former, I need to know just how many men and how much materiel can be moved, and just how quickly. I need mass and volume limits. I need to know the characteristics of the portals in question. Is it a sustained throughput or burst transfer? I’ve seen examples of both in Cadet Booker’s reports, but those are currently anecdotal one-offs. I need to hear it from you, Prince Havenbrock, with both strategic and tactical considerations in mind.”
The wolf prince nodded once, not wasting a second's reprieve from the increasingly unsteady connection.
“There are no mass and volume limits.” He spoke plain and simple. That firm, practically empiric proclamation hit me like a sack of bricks, giving me pause for concern that was soon met by a rapid one-two knockout punch in the form of his expounding points of clarification. “The only limiting factor comes down to the skill and experience of the mage in question, and the mana available to them. The former is a toss-up, but frankly, even the most greenhorn of portal mages are capable of sustaining the movement of entire regiments of men, as well as the materiel to support and sustain them for a beachhead. The latter, however, is a point worth noting.” I wanted to interrupt, to bring up Emma’s intel-gathering revelations from this… ‘Sorecar’ character. As I knew precisely what the prince was about to say. However, I kept my mouth shut, wishing to let the prince speak uninhibited, without potential for a shift in narrative from my interjections. “In essence, there functionally is no limit when it comes to Nexian portals. For the Nexus, as its name implies, is the Nexus of all mana as much as it is the self-purported ‘Nexus’ of civilization.”
“This is in contrast to Adjacent Realms, which, I imagine, do have a limit to their locally available ‘mana.’ Or at the very least, its ‘richness’ and ‘density’ of mana.” I offered, more so building off of the prince’s logic than pulling directly from Emma’s reports.
“Correct, Captain.”
That was one for cross-reference checks.
“I can sense the innately asymmetrical playing field just from this point alone.” I offered.
“To put it in far less eloquent terms, captain, you have no idea…” The prince responded with a dejected huff before throwing the conversation back into first gear. “Now then, characteristics, you said? What you describe as sustained throughput and burst transfer are what we ascribe to the distinction between portals and teleportation. Because if we’re discussing portals proper, the only answer to this is sustained throughput, as that is inherent to its martial definition. A portal, by its nature, is a sustained window weaving two physical points — irreverent of distance and eschewing time itself. Emma has seen this herself from the door from the Academy to Elaseer, as well as the portals connecting towns together via the transportium. Whilst teleportation… well… to borrow my uncle’s metaphor, portals are greatswords — blunt, powerful instruments of movement. While teleportation spells are rapiers, limited in reach but devastating in precision.”
This whole conversation was a hydra of a beast. Because once one topic was broached in its totality, two more came to take its place. Or more accurately, even greater concerns were brought about with such abruptness that it could be misconstrued for flippancy.
“So what you’re saying is teleportation spells can be used for rapid insertion behind enemy lines of special forces units?” I blurted out.
To which the prince, once more, nodded without hesitation. “Correct. And indeed, you are right to highlight that distinction — elite forces. Because the very art of teleportation itself requires mages of exceptional skill.”
I took a deep breath, as brick by brick, the pillars of strategic threat analysis began that steady and seemingly unstoppable incline towards peerhood.
A nervous huff soon followed as I let out a supportive anecdote between points. “The longer this goes on, the more I have to respect your resolve in resisting this nightmare of an adversary, Prince Havenbrock.”
“To live for existence is an existence not worth living, Captain.” The prince spoke with genuine pride, as if quoting or pulling from some old cultural adage.
This prompted me to reciprocate with an anecdotal overture of my own.
“A life preserved at the cost of its rights is not a life at all.” I offered, garnering a deep, warm, bassy chuckle from the wolf prince.
“A quote from your ancestors?”
“A reformer of sorts, so I think that counts, yes.” I acknowledged.
“Then it seems I am in good company, Captain.” The prince spoke with a wide smile. “We live standing on our two feet, or we die in the pursuit of such a future.”
“Naturally, Prince Havenbrock.” I replied without hesitation. “My oath demands it, after all.”
This exchange had the potential to go on for far longer.
A side-eye from Weir and an unspoken insistence to keep to the stated topic at hand cut these diplomatic aspirations short.
I could practically hear General Secretary Li’s indignant spirit shouting, protesting at the back of my mind, completely aghast at my compliance.
Alas, we were no longer indulging in cowboy diplomacy. So I took the hint and carried on in my own lane with my head held high.
“I promise the next few points will be brief, Prince Havenbrock.” I began once more.
“By all means.” He urged amicably.
“My next point might have already been addressed by the mana-availability discussion, but I still think it warrants discussion. It’s about Logistics and Sustainment, specifically. Is it possible to sustain a portal, indefinitely, throughout the duration of an entire military campai—”
“Yes.” Prince Thalmin asserted with a simple interjection.
“Alright. And are there any special prerequisites for such a serious—”
“It’s not considered much of a problem or challenge, Captain. At least, not for the Inner Guard proper.”
My eyes glanced towards the reports, searching for Emma’s notes on the ‘inner guard’, only to be met by Prince Thalmin’s own elaboration on the matter.
“To clarify, Captain. The Nexus divides its martial forces into four discrete bodies. The Outer Guard — responsible for the defense and force projection of individual towns, cities, and so on and so forth. The Middle Guard — responsible for much of the same but far better equipped and with battlemages readily available in their ranks mostly found in the Midlands, as the name suggests. And of course, the titular Inner Guard — the actual bulk of the Nexian forces. These… are the Crownlands’ true armies. Forces with battle mages as readily available as a Midlands’ elite guard forces, enchanted equipment that flows from every available shipment and manufactorium, and training for the average soldier that rivals what the most elite of Adjacent Realms can even muster. This is what the Nexus uses as its expeditionary forces. And it is with these forces that portals may be sustained as indefinitely as each Marshal demands it.”
I looked through Emma’s own notes on the matter, corroborating the wolf prince’s sentiments, and likewise looking at the scant few illustrations she found for these forces. Including what looked to be aetherpunk-esque airships amidst drake riders and the like.
My eyes narrowed as I asked my next question. “And the fourth body?”
“The Royal Guard.” Prince Thalmin spoke darkly. “Not much is known of them. Only that you do not want to meet a member of this elite force. Though frankly, I doubt they ever leave the Royal Palace unless a threat is deemed too existential.” The prince paused before chuckling darkly. “Perhaps this may warrant such a visit. But I digress.”
I kept my thoughts to myself for now, pushing through with the rest of the analysis with haste.
“Thank you, Prince Havenbrock.” I dipped my head once more, despite the wolf prince being unable to see it. “Now, there are two final points I’m leading up to. Points that will finally paint the full picture of the Nexus’ capacity for war.” I cleared my throat. “I need to know about the practicalities behind the strategic weaponization of portals, and the doctrines and precedents of such practical capabilities.”
The prince’s features shifted into one of genuine concern at that urging, but he pushed through those anxieties all the same, reaching a look of resolve that came through with his next points.
“As Emma mentioned earlier, Captain. The Nexus is more than capable of deploying anything through portals. And should the opposing side lack the capacity to intercept or dispel these portals, then the question becomes not if they’re capable of strategically weaponizing these portals, but what type of apocalypse they would feel like unleashing at a whim.”
I tensed, and so did Laura, as that familiar ice-cold sense of anxiety rippled throughout the both of us.
“There is precedence for this.” The prince eventually added after a moment of quiet contemplation. “As recent as in the War of the Adjacencies, in fact. The Nexus… is more than willing to call forth apocalypses at a moment’s notice, should they believe themselves to be in any form of existential threat, or should their primacy be challenged to a degree they believe to be untenable.”
There was… a lot to unpack.
So much so that I felt myself incapable of moving forward.
Yet as soon as I reached for my next point, Laura stopped me, raising a hand and turning towards the prince.
“We need to discuss the practical logistics of our tentative… relationship, Prince Havenbrock.” She urged, garnering a gruff nod from the man.
“That, I can agree with.” He noted. “Though the Nexus may be… mighty, inconceivably so, that is not the case for you earthrealmers.” He urged. “I have seen, and extrapolated on my own accord, your capacity to send men into the void only to return. Your kind have the ability to do what no other Adjacency can, all without the aid of the Nexus. You can appear at a moment’s notice wherever you please, and no mage can ever stop you. This. This can prove to be the crux of your parity. This, amongst all of your capacities for war, for logistics, for sustained conflict, is what can turn the tide. You are an [Translation Confidence 98.34%: Outside Context Problem]. You have both the element of surprise and the capacity to sustain that surprise in a true conflict. And should you choose this path, you will be the only realm capable of challenging them in a way outside of diplomacy or commerce. In short, you are the only realm capable of challenging them in a way that truly matters.”
The prince once more paused, straightening himself. “Because as much as philosophers and idealists hate to admit it, it is might that determines not who’s right, but who’s left to speak at all.”
This sent Weir into a look of complete stoicism. Her features were now unreadable as she stood there, trying to dissect this rapid ascent towards a foregone conclusion.
“I understand what I say may be… rushed, in a sense. But what I wish to convey is this — your kind can win, despite the odds. And Havenbrock will be ready to act as your sword and shield… should the proper conditions for war be met.”
It was that latter line that got both of our gears turning, as it was now very much clear what sorts of conditional agreements he was leading up to.
“If this relationship is to work, if we are to stand arms locked, shoulder to shoulder, then we must share in the capacity to fight. Director Weir, Captain Li, I wish for Earthrealm weapons, and the capacity for both their creation and their utilization.”
Silence filled the air as Weir finally turned to me with a look of complete dumbfoundedness.
The pace at which the talks were progressing and the forwardness were jarring.
Though I understood where the prince was coming from.
This was his first taste of an alternative future.
And with the growing concern of the stability of this communique? He wanted to get it all out, now.
Though his inexperience, owing to his age, probably didn’t help matters in that sense.
“This sort of discussion is best suited for higher levels of governance, Prince Havenbrock.” Weir began in earnest. “As I mentioned previously, we must convene and defer many of the more formal aspects of our relationship to the authorities that be. I am capable of much, yes, but for something of this magnitude, it… it requires more parties to deliberate and to sign off on.” The Director attempted as best she could, as it garnered naught but a tentative look of frustration from the wolf prince.
“I am willing to take your envoy’s hand in marriage, if need be.”
This elicited a round of blinks and confused expressions across the room, as Weir’s mouth was left agape at that urging.
“Thalmin? That’s not how—” Emma spoke up, only to be interrupted by Weir.
“I’m afraid the Cadet is—”
ROAAAARRRRRRR
[CONNECTION LOST]
Emma
[CONNECTION LOST]
I blinked in rapid succession, my whole world suddenly ripped from me, as I turned to face Kaelthyr who reeled back from an unseen assailant.
The massive being looked like she’d just been suckerpunched, her whole form rearing on both hind legs before landing in a catastrophic CRASH against the cave wall behind her.
From there, she began writhing and wriggling in place, crying out in such pure anguish that my own grievances from the severed connection were replaced by genuine concern.
The Shatorealmer’s fate soon followed suit, as the meat puppet cried out in a blood-curdling scream of anguish before suddenly, and for the first time, I heard the sound of vocal chords being torn open by sheer force of anguish alone.
The corpse was soon tossed aside by Kaelthyr as she writhed on the ground in abject pain.
This prompted me to rush to her side, shouting urgently.
“Matriarch Kaelthyr! Are you alright? What’s going…”
[Alert! Movement Detected!]
My rear cameras detected movement — motion from the fallen shatorealmer.
I swung around to meet the threat with little hesitation, railgun at the ready.
But that resolve and the itchy trigger finger ready to carry it out just up and sublimated the moment I locked eyes with it.
There was nothing behind those eyes. There was nothing where those glassy dead eyes should be.
My whole body locked up.
But it wasn’t because of horror or fear.
Instead, I found myself simply overwhelmed by a sensation that did not belong here.
I felt… awe.
The sort of awe only reserved for that one special moment in a planet-bound citizen’s life.
It was that sudden shift in perspective, the complete and utter demolition of all one’s barriers for a reality beyond the world you thought you knew.
This… this was undoubtedly the overview effect.
But instead of that sense of wonder coming to smother you following the shock, what instead flooded me was something completely different — dread.
A creeping dread that consumed me whole.
A dread that caused my hairs to stand on end.
A dread that sent an unending tingling down my spine.
A dread… that bordered on terror but on a cosmic scale.
[ALERT: UNSTABLE SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED: 1200% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS… WARNING: DETECTING UNDEFINED ‘30th’ MANATYPE.]
I heard silence.
Literal silence.
Then… the chimes returned.