"Abraham ... was sunk in Ur (modern-day Iraq) of the Chaldees among foolish idolaters. His father and mother and all the people worshipped the stars. ... He knew that all were mistaken and that what caused them to err was worship of the images which drove the Truth out of their minds. ... It was proper to destroy and smash the idols so that the people should not err by them like those who think there is no god save images."
- Moses Maimonides (1138-1204), Treatise 4: "Idolatry," H. Russell, trans. (1983), p. 73.
In the throne room of Apollo, the great blonde Sun king sat and contemplated in silence. The door opened and Qora entered it, "You called for me, my lord." Apollo replied: "Yes Qora, it's been brought to my attention that Zed or Ebisu and X I guess Daniel have both been destroyed." Qora nodded: "That's affirmative, but I don't think we should go after the Prophet and the others just yet. As the Watchers have not been dealt with." Apollo tapped his fingers on his throne, "I couldn't agree more, after all this was something Ebisu and Daniel decided to do on their own, and thus, they paid for their own actions. I could care less if they repeat history, I'm more worried about this." Apollo pulled up a holographic screen, "It was another cube this time appearing at the center of the Cosmos, "The Watchers continued to grow bolder. And they need to somehow be dealt with," said Apollo. Apollo pointed up at a holographic map, "I think this could help." Qora was stunned but she continued to look at what he pointed at.
Back on Umi, in a nearby junkyard a group of anthropomorphic dogs and humans began to huddle up with each other. "It's been confirmed, outsiders have been spotted they're headed straight for our home-base." One of the dogmen laughed, "Unbelievable, do they even know whose territory they're crossing onto. I guess not." One of the dogmen shook his head, "There's 5 of them arriving shortly, we'll make sure to attack and kill them. It's important that none of them are left alive." The junkyard shimmered beneath Umi's pale violet suns. Metal towers leaned like forgotten monuments. The scent of rust and ozone filled the air. The dogmen—bipedal, muscular, clad in scavenged armor—tightened their grip on modified plasma rifles and bone-carved blades. Their leader, a scarred alpha with one glowing blue eye, turned to the others. "Positions. We hit them before they touch the main gates. No hesitation. Outsiders don't walk into Ellivatorre and live to talk about it." At that same moment, the ship carrying Lupus, Kazan, Nelly, Narcis. Inside the cockpit, Narcis scanned the readings. "Uninhabited terrain, unlikely," he muttered. "What's that?" Kazan asked, adjusting her gauntlet. "Movement. Twelve signatures, minimum. Concealed in the junk perimeter. They're waiting for us." Lupus grinned. "Good. I was starting to worry we've landed in a graveyard. Hopefully, they're will be plenty of foes to fight. I've been itching to test out my training."
The ship thudded softly into the cracked dirt just outside the junkyard. The air was hot, dry, and humming with tension. As the door opened, the group disembarked quickly and without fear. Kazan clicked her claws together. "They don't know who we are, do they?" "No," said Nelly, her eyes glowing faintly. "But they're about to learn." Before anyone could reply, a volley of plasma fire ripped through the air toward them. Narcis deflected one blast with his psychic shield, while Nelly hurled a bolt of raw kinetic energy into the heap of metal where the snipers hid. The explosion rocked the ground. The battle began. Lupus surged forward, transforming mid-stride, fur bristling, claws out, a blur of crimson rage. He tackled one of the alpha dogmen into a tower of rusted vehicle parts, sending steel and bone flying. The others fought with lethal precision—Kazan's blades danced in deadly arcs, Nelly manipulated gravity like a puppeteer, Narcis warped space to disorient the enemy. And then the sixth cloaked figure moved. It had not spoken the entire flight. A fifth figure was walking with them. No name. No weapon visible. But now, as one of the ambushers lunged at them, the figure raised its hand. A ripple of energy—quiet, cold, absolute—froze the attacker mid-air, suspended in a sphere of glassy blue. The ambusher disintegrated, pixel by pixel, into nothing. "Who the hell is that?" Kazan breathed, watching the figure lower its hand. Lupus, standing atop a pile of defeated enemies, just nodded. "Backup." When the last dogman fell, whimpering into unconsciousness, the group advanced. The gates of Ellivatorre stood ahead—tall, ancient, humming with sigils carved by dead civilizations.
"We're in now," said Nelly, catching her breath. "Barely," muttered Narcis. "This was the welcome mat. Imagine what waits inside." From the shadows of a nearby ruined tower, someone had been watching. She wore a helm shaped like a wolf's skull and bore a staff wrapped in bone and copper. She turned and whispered into her communicator: "They've arrived. And she's with them." A voice crackled back: "Prepare the Citadel. If the Anchor has returned… Ellivatorre must decide." Back on the swamp, Ungar stood silent, still staring into space. Hermes was drying herself off, hair dripping, cloak torn. But her eyes were alive. Mark handed her a drink. She took it without a word. Ungar finally spoke. "It wasn't just a demon," he said. "It was a warning." Hermes tilted her head. "From who?" Ungar turned to look at her, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "From the Architect. I'd know a goon of her's anywhere." Everyone fell silent. "You're not the only one walking across timelines," he said. "You're just the only one still human enough to care what happens when you do." Hermes stared at him. Her hand tightened around the Spirit Blade. "Then let's find the Architect." Ungar nodded slowly. "Easier said than done, but yes, honestly based on the fact that that thing was here, the Architect has been following us for some time," said Ungar. "And let's hope," he said, "that she still wants to be found."
Back at the Junkyard Lupus continued to fight with the alpha dogman until he realized that he was falling into a trap. The floor beneath him collapsed and he fell into the pit. At the bottom it was cold and quiet it there wasn't much to see until out of the darkness crawled a giant demon over 15 feet maybe 20 feet tall towering over Lupus with grey skin and pointy ears, sort of humanoid in appeared, Lupus laughed: "Is this there ace in the hole, don't make me laugh, you're nothing." The creature howled, eating Lupus in a single bite. Lupus continued to smirk and cross his arms until the monster swallowed him whole. The monster was fine for a moment, and then began to grumble and sweat. On the monitor the dogmen smirked: "Good, that takes care of the strongest of them." One of the other dogs narrowed his eyes, "I'm not so sure, look at the creature." At that moment it began to howl in pain, the demon began to cry out, "Please stop, stop it! STOP IT!!!!" Lupus began to punch the creature from the inside and cried out, "Hahahahahaha, wow you really need more intestinal protection. You're so exposed down here. Its very easy to tear you apart." The creature cried out, "Please have mercy on me!!" Lupus laughed: "Turn on your old masters and spit me out and I'll stop this abuse." The creature nodded and then hacked up Lupus. Lupus flew out covered in saliva. The creature didn't wait another second; he held up his palm and blew up the upper part of the wall. The creature and Lupus ascended and led an attack on the dogmen and their human allies. Lupus who was a wolf alien himself though not this race of dogmen was excited to test his power on those who looked kind of like him, it was like training against himself again.
Smoke poured through the junkyard's broken wall, curling like fingers into the burnt sky. The massive demon, now turned ally, raged alongside Lupus—each blow sending bodies and scrap metal flying. It moved with surprising speed for its size, smashing towers and swatting enemies like insects. The dogmen's battle lines buckled. Inside the walls of Ellivatorre, alarms shrieked through the air like wailing spirits. Crimson lights bathed the ancient corridors. Glyphs long thought dormant shimmered to life on stone columns, reacting to the presence of the intruders. In the heart of the city-state, deep beneath the Citadel, the Council stirred. Twelve figures cloaked in bone-white robes sat in a circle, their faces hidden behind angular masks etched with symbols from languages dead for eons. In the center of the chamber floated a crystalline sphere, turning slowly, showing images from across the city—battle, fire, and a cloaked figure who hadn't even flinched during the entire skirmish.
"The Anchor has returned," spoke the eldest, her voice like a cracked bell. "And with it, the Fracture draws closer." Another councilor leaned forward. "And the Architect?" "We do not yet know. But we feel her echo. This time, the storm might not pass us by." The sphere flared red. A new image appeared: Ungar, standing with Hermes. The Council gasped. "That's impossible," one of them whispered. "He was lost. Gone beyond the Loop." "No," said the eldest. "He remembers. That is far more dangerous." Above them, in the Citadel's armory, the woman in the wolf-skull helm strode across obsidian floors. Her name was Erentha, Warden of the Breathless Gates. Her staff pulsed with light. "Deploy the Paladins," she barked to her guards. "Reinforce the outer wall. And send the Raven to the swamp. If Hermes and Ungar are truly together again, the Prophecy is unraveling." Back outside, the last of the dogmen had either fallen or fled. The demon groaned and shrank, folding in on itself until it was the size of a bear, then a man. It collapsed next to Lupus, panting. "I will rest now," it muttered. "My debt is paid." "You did good," said Lupus, slapping its back. "That was almost fun. Though you're not stronger than I." Kazan joined him, wiping blood from her blade. "No more surprises okay father?" "Oh, there will be," said Narcis, scanning the scorched horizon. "This city's hiding more than just old walls." They turned toward the Citadel. Narcis continued: "This is without a doubt the outer part of the empire."
From the tower above, Erentha watched through a scope. She saw them coming. Saw Hermes walk into the edge of the frame. And froze. "She's changed," she whispered. "But it's her." She stepped back and keyed a rune on her gauntlet. "All commanders: prepare the city. We delay them at the Breathless Gate. The Anchor must not reach the Core." Across the swamp, Ungar and Hermes walked in silence, the others trailing behind. A breeze stirred the moss. Birds fled. The swamp felt still, too still. Ungar looked up. Clouds formed a spiral above them. "She's close," he said. Hermes gripped the blade tighter. "Then let her come." Behind them, Mark checked his weapon and muttered, "You two are nuts." Ungar smiled for the first time in what felt like a century. "We have to be." The Architect was watching.
The dogs called into the imperial Paladins, "Sir, the intruders have breached the wall, they continued to break in further, I don't believe they're with the demons but I can't be sure." The Paladin on the other end declared: "We can't be sure, get rid of them, we can't take a chance of any demons or their allies breaking through the citadel. The demons have been growing bolder and stronger. If they enter the city they could slaughter all of us." The dog began to sweat: "What can we do?!" The Paladin responded: "We'll send in the Sirens of War, once they're in they'll deal with all of them, even this one strong opponent you talked about." The dog nodded: "Understood." Suddenly, a sound like tearing metal echoed through the junkyard, and the sky above Ellivatorre shimmered. The Sirens of War had arrived. They didn't fall from the heavens. They descended. Six of them—hovering on anti-grav wings, clad in iridescent armor that pulsed with shifting patterns of light and sound. Their faces were veiled, but their presence was deafening. Each step they took warped the air around them. The tallest one, her armor shaped like a weeping angel, touched down first. Her voice sang a single, sustained note—long and low—and a blast wave of sound erupted, flattening a ridge of scrap metal and sending a pulse of dread through the bones of everyone nearby. They we're all clearly human, all of them had large breasts and each had two knives in their hands.
Narcis grabbed his head, wincing. "They're using harmonic warfare. They're weaponizing frequency. Sound, memory, pain—all of it at once." Kazan muttered, "They're trying to fracture our minds before we even fight." She threw up a sonic-dampening shield, thin but enough for now. "Stick close." Lupus wiped slime from his mouth and stood tall. "Good. Another test. I'll push myself until I get even stronger." The Sirens fanned out, their wings leaving trails of luminous vapor behind. The one in crimson armor lifted her hand and, without a word, unleashed a wave of sound that cracked the earth and shattered stone. Nelly deflected it with a kinetic wall, sweat beading on her brow. "They're not like the others. These aren't soldiers. They're living weapons."
Then the cloaked figure stepped forward again. No fear. No words. Just a slow motion of the hand.
The sound stopped. Froze. Hung in the air like a bubble on the verge of popping. The cloaked figure touched the note, and it collapsed in on itself—gone. The lead Siren faltered. Kazan blinked. "What are you?" she whispered again to the silent companion. The figure gave no answer. Instead, it moved. Fast. No wasted motion, no theatrics—just direct strikes. One Siren screamed as her harmonics were cut off mid-attack. Another dropped to one knee, sparks spraying from a cracked chestplate. "They can be hurt," said Narcis, warping a piece of jagged steel into a spear and launching it at a third Siren. It embedded deep. But even wounded, the Sirens didn't fall. They sang. In chorus. And the sky darkened. A dome of pure resonance bloomed from their formation, engulfing the area. Everything inside it began to distort—colors twisted, sound echoed back too slowly, gravity shifted sideways. Lupus staggered. Even the demon beside him fell to one knee. Only the cloaked figure stood unaffected. Inside the dome, Hermes paused mid-step. Far away, in the swamp, she felt the pull. Ungar noticed. "You feel that?" She nodded slowly. "Something's wrong. It's started." Ungar cursed under his breath. "They're accelerating the collapse." Back in the dome, time began to fracture. Kazan's blade warped in her hand. Nelly's gravity field cracked like glass. Narcis shouted but no sound came. They were being erased by vibration, one frequency at a time. And then— The cloaked figure unveiled itself.
Light exploded outward. Not heat. Not fire. Just clarity. A wave of raw, stabilized reality tore through the dome, shattering it like porcelain. The Sirens screamed—not in pain, but in something close to awe—and fled, wings burning, trailing sparks as they vanished over the horizon. The cloaked figure turned, face visible for the first time. Hermes.
But… not Hermes. It actually wasn't Hermes but it was a girl who looked very similar to her, her origin was unknown, but Narcis had explained that he knew her. Older. Sharper. Eyes full of stars and storms. A version of her—or a shadow of what she might become. But someone else. Nelly whispered, "What the hell?" The figure looked at them all and said, simply, "You're not ready for what's inside the Core." Then she was gone. Lupus stared at the empty air. "That… was her." Narcis shook his head: "No it wasn't. It was someone else." Erentha, watching from the Citadel, dropped her scope. Her hands trembled. "It's worse than we thought. The Anchor's not just returned. She's already started to split."
Inside the Council chamber, the crystal sphere shattered. The eldest stood. "We must open the Vault." "But—" another protested. "That hasn't been done since—" She raised her hand. "If the Architect is walking, if the Anchor is fragmenting, and if the Sirens have failed—then the Vault must open. And the old laws must be remembered." Far beneath Ellivatorre, stone doors older than the stars began to groan. And something behind them started to wake. Back at the dome of the Junkyard, one of the Sirens called out: "YOU!" She was pointing at Lupus, "I challenge you to a one-on-one deal, I am the Champion of our Sect. And by putting you down, I'll protect the citadel." Lupus began to cackle: "Is that a fact?" Lupus stood tall and walked forward, "If you want me you got me. I'll turn you into a scrap-heat." The woman snarled back: "We'll see." They stood before each other, Lupus got in a crouching tiger stance. They stood there for what seemed like an eternity until the woman charged at Lupus, Lupus blocked the attack and then another. They had taken the battle to the air and we're fighting above the citadel. Lupus was confident until he began to notice that his arms hurt, after that the woman began landing punches. Miles away Hermes felt something. Ungar looked towards her, "Hermes, what's wrong?" Hermes growled: "Lupus, he's in danger, I have to go." She took off through the air while Ungar and the others went after her.
Lupus's assault was being rolled back and he began to lose his composure. "Damnit, what the hell is happening, I can't keep up with this damn woman. Damnit!" Then in a flash the Siren hit Lupus' arms, a crunch was heard. Lupus screamed. He dropped to his knees holding his arm in incredible pain. His daughter Kazan cried out: "father!" Kazan and Narcis charged towards them. Lupus cried: "NO! Get back!" It was too late she threw Lupus at Kazan and Narcis and they were landed by a terrified Nelly and the mysterious hooded figure. The siren was about to end the fight when at the last second Hermes arrived. The Siren said: "And who are you supposed to be?" Hermes replied: "Does it matter?" Lupus became furious: "Is that my daughter's friend Hermes, the so-called Prophet, it can't be she's so much stronger than she was before, what the hell happened to her?!" Hermes didn't answer the Siren. She just stepped between her allies and the enemy, Spirit Blade in hand, eyes glowing with the light of something older than war. She was glowing with a red aura around her burning like flames. Something the Siren didn't recognize—and that made her hesitate.
For a fraction of a second, silence reigned. Then Hermes moved. No dramatic windup. No flashy entrance. Just pure speed. She was in front of the Siren before the other woman could blink, her blade slicing through harmonics mid-form, cleaving through fields of vibrating force. The Siren screamed and leapt back, wings flaring wide. "Impossible," she snarled. "You shouldn't be able to—" "Shut up," Hermes said, and struck again. The sky cracked with the impact. The Siren blocked the blow with both blades, but the ground beneath her gave way, cratering from the force. Lupus watched, stunned, his wounded arm hanging limp. "She's not just stronger…" he muttered. "She's something else entirely. It's like she can feel the vibrations of every thought in her opponents attack before they even bring it into the real world. What the hell is happening?! There's no way that girl can be stronger than me?!" Kazan looked between her father and Hermes. "She's evolved," she said. "Transcended."
Hermes pressed forward, each strike faster than the last, pushing the Siren further into the sky, higher, until the city lay miles below them. Then—Hermes stopped. "You fight well," she said softly. "But your war is done." The Siren lunged, screaming a battle-hymn meant to rupture minds. But Hermes reached out with her free hand and touched the sound. It unraveled like thread, falling apart in mid-air. The Siren choked, her wings flickering, and Hermes stepped in, driving the Spirit Blade into her chest—clean, fast, decisive. The Siren fell. Down through clouds, past spires and towers, crashing through a steel platform until she hit the ground below. Her armor shattered. Her song stopped. And she didn't get back up. Hermes hovered for a moment, eyes scanning the horizon. Then she descended, slow and steady, like a storm coming to rest. Ungar and the others caught up just as she touched down. Nelly stared, wide-eyed. "Hermes…" Hermes turned. "I'm fine," she said. "But the Core isn't. And we're running out of time." Ungar narrowed his eyes. "She's accelerating the collapse," he muttered. "The Architect is forcing timelines to converge. This… this wasn't supposed to happen yet." Ungar shouted: "We don't have to worry about the core of the city, it will be fine, just worry about surviving and subdueing them." Hermes nodded.
Narcis knelt beside Lupus, checking his arm. "He'll live," he said. "But he's out of this fight." Lupus growled. "Like hell I am." "Dad stop it, you can't fight, not like this," Kazan said, steadying him. Hermes didn't look at them. She stared toward the Citadel, where the Vault had begun to stir. The other sirens had retreated. Hermes turned around: "Is everyone okay?!" Everyone nodded. Lupus begged Narcis to heal him and finally he relented, Narcis used the Sangha spell to heal Lupus who recovered the same as always. Lupus walked up to Hermes and said: "Now who the hell are you?! Tell me! There's no way the real Hermes could have such a high power level!" Hermes said nothing which angered Lupus. Lupus growled and grabbed her by the collar: "Answer me, now!" Ungar stopped him: "I'll tell you." Ungar told Lupus: "She recently had a vision of her God and this deity gave her this power." Lupus was stunned: "You were given power by another deity." He dropped her and stepped back and thought to himself: "Damnit: Talus, Wukong, Erlang Shen, Gilgamesh, this Light Crusader superhero, Jellal, and now this Prophet. What is happening?! I'm supposed to be the strongest?! How do I keep getting surpassed by these weaklings??!!"
"I didn't ask for this power," she said. "I didn't beg some god to make me strong. I earned this—by surviving what would've broken anyone else. You want to be stronger? Then evolve. Or get left behind." It hit Lupus harder than any punch. Ungar turned to the others. "The Vault's opening. We move. Now." Behind them, the last light of day bled from the sky, and in the direction of the Citadel, thunder without clouds cracked the air. Deep below the streets of Ellivatorre, the Vault doors—engraved with constellations from extinct galaxies—split open. A whisper of light spilled out, blinding white and full of shapes that didn't belong in three-dimensional space. Out stepped a man. Or… something wearing a man's shape. His skin was black, his eyes rings of orbiting glyphs. Around his arms floated shattered fragments of ancient weapons. The Council fell to their knees. The eldest whispered, "He walks again." Above, Erentha's gauntlet blinked red. A signal. A name she hadn't seen in centuries: Vael. She muttered under her breath: "So the Black Cardinal lives. And he's come back to finish what he started."
Back at the ruined battlefield, Hermes looked north. Her hands trembled—not in fear, but memory. "I felt that." "So did I," said Narcis. "The Vault didn't just open. It's something else." Ungar nodded. "We need to reach the Core before he does. If Vael touches it first—" "He won't," Hermes said. "I'll stop him." "Who is this Vael?!" said Lupus. Hermes replied: "He's the elder of this city. He defends the city-state or polity from all outsiders in fear that in alliance with demons they defend the core which holds memories of my power, we need to not only beat him but convince him that we're on the same side. "You're not going alone," Kazan added. "This isn't a solo act anymore." Nelly nodded. "We're in this together." Even Lupus grunted. "Tch. Fine. One last round. But after this, someone owes me answers." Hermes smirked. "Answers come after survival."