Rab'banah stood back, quietly observing the group as they gathered around His table. They were unaware of His presence, and He was perfectly content with that. Typically, others cowered before Him—and that was fine too—but for now, He simply wanted to watch His counsel converse among themselves before stepping forward and becoming the center of attention.
Bathed in the brightness of the room, He blended seamlessly into the whiteness of the farthest wall. He listened intently, absorbing the information conveyed through their words, the tone of their voices, and their unforgiving body language. It all told Him a story—their story. There was a difference between knowing your creations and truly knowing them. Rab'banah wanted to feel what His creations were thinking.
Among them stood Adem, towering at nearly 6'7", with thick, jet-black hair that crowned his head and framed his face in a well-kept beard. His arms were perpetually crossed, a gesture that seemed to shut others out—but Rab'banah knew better. It was all for show. Beneath the imposing exterior was a kind, gentle soul who could crush a human with the slightest flick of his finger. Strength was the gift of his race, and as its first king, Adem was the strongest of all Altairians.
Adem lowered his hands and pulled out a chair for Ah'Kish—a stunning creation who embodied the virtues of beauty and truth, the hallmarks of her race. She swept her long, golden waves to one side, letting them rest in her lap as she gracefully took her seat. With a gentle smile, she thanked Adem for his kindness. Their friendship was unmistakable.
Standing beside her was Elio, whose gaze lingered on Ah'Kish with thinly veiled desire. Her delicate frame was what drew him in—his tell. Elio wasn't unattractive on the outside, but his inner nature was far less appealing. Rab'banah knew this well, which is precisely why He had chosen Elio for His counsel: to keep His enemies close. Pride and ambition were the defining traits of Elio's race, and Rab'banah intended to use those qualities against him in time.
In stark contrast stood Jashon, the longest-serving member of Rab'banah's counsel. With a hearty smile, Jashon placed a hand on Elio's shoulder, welcoming him to the table. The gesture pulled Elio's attention away from Ah'Kish, and he returned the smile. Jashon then invited Elio to sit beside him, taking the seat nearest to Ah'Kish—who seemed unaware of Elio's lingering gaze. Or so it appeared. Jashon, however, saw through Elio's thoughts. His integrity gave him insight into the intentions of others, prompting him to question the validity of their actions.
Just as Jashon was about to sit, he paused. Rab'banah heard it too—Maira's voice, calling out to Jashon through the sacred link of The Twelve, a telepathic bond shared only among them and Rab'banah Himself. Though her cry was directed at Jashon, Rab'banah, as Creator, heard it as well.
Fear flickered across Jashon's face as he turned toward Rab'banah, silently seeking approval. It was no surprise to Rab'banah that Jashon sensed His presence at the back of the room. Their eyes met, and with a subtle nod, Rab'banah gave his consent. In an instant, Jashon vanished, leaving the seat between Elio and Ah'Kish empty.
Ah'Kish glanced at the vacant chair and motioned for Elio to take it. Without hesitation or a word, he slid into the seat. She offered him the same warm smile she had given Adem and he returned the smile.
With Jashon's sudden disappearance, Rab'banah began making His way to the head of the table. He knew Jashon would return soon—with Maira—and that the meeting would come to an end. There wasn't time to observe the room as thoroughly as He wished.
As Rab'banah reached His finely adorned chair, the others rose and bowed their heads in reverence. In a firm yet calm voice, He said, "Please, sit." They obeyed without a word, all eyes fixed on Him.
"First, I would like to welcome Elio to The Twelve" He said pointing to Elio. Elio smiled wide and lifted his hand to let everyone know he was Elio. "He has come from the planet Velerian and is replacing Kekiana." There was some murmuring amongst The Twelve but no one dare protest against Rab'banah and his decisions. He was the wisest of them all and knew what he was doing, after all He was the Creator.
"Now to move to more grievous matters at hand. There is an emptiness spreading across this universe," He said, pausing to gauge their reactions. None were given, no one moved a muscle. It was like they all were waiting to hear what came next.
After a moment of silence, Shilom questioned. "Does this have anything to do with the planet Florex?"
"Florex is just one of many, too many" Rab'banah replied grimly. "And with them, countless lives have been lost as well."
The death of a single planet—even its explosion—was not uncommon. It rarely caused alarm. The universe maintained balance: creation mirrored destruction, and when one race perished, another grew up stronger. This was a fundamental law.
Not understanding this universal law, Elio asked, "What does that mean?"
"It means there's an imbalance in the universe," Rab'banah explained.
"With that comes the possible destruction of everything," Pacumeniki added, his high-pitched, nasal voice cutting through the silence. He understood the gravity of imbalance. Knowledge was the trait of his race, and Pacumeniki was a walking tome of cosmic truths. "
"We must restore balance immediately," Rab'banah urged.
"How?" asked Ah'Kish. A simple question, but not one with a simple answer.
"We must first discover who is behind the destruction—and stop them," Herron said, his voice steady and smooth. Herron understood balance, as this was the trait of his race, justice. It was Herron who made sure all was fair in the universe, that justice was always served. The harsher the crime, the harsher the punishment. The best charity was rewarded with the sweetest rewards. Emotions never play a part in deciding the justice for an individual. It was his race who watched over the Halls of Eternity, where the dead went once, they lived their mortal life.
Before Rab'banah could respond, Jashon reappeared—cradling Maira's bloodied, lifeless body in his arms. His sobs were quiet but relentless, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.
"She's dead," he choked out, lifting her limp form closer to his face. Adem sprang from his chair, knocking it over as he rushed to help. Maira's body was a gruesome sight—her back torn open, spine ripped from its place and severed at the base of her skull.
Rab'banah rose to His feet, dread gripping His core. This was the second counselor murdered in less than a month. Kekiana had only just been replaced by Elio. Her death was equally violent. Unlike Maira, she had gone missing for a week prior to The Twelve finding her body. She had never called out like Maira did and it haunted Rab'banah on why she never did call out for help. It haunted Him even more now when He saw Maira's body and knew she did call out.
"How are they able to kill us?" Pacumeniki asked, turning to Rab'banah, it was hard for him to take his eyes off the gruesome sight of Maira's bloodied body.
The Twelve lived far beyond their natural lifespans. They could sense danger, strength, and the desires of others—good or evil. No one should have been able to sneak up on them. If threatened, they could vanish and reappear in safety. So how was this happening?
One by one, the others turned their attention from Jashon and Maira to Rab'banah looking for an answer.
"I don't know," He said quietly and the pit of despair grew within Him.