I stood in what should have been a beautiful plaza, surrounded by architecture that blended organic plant growth with deliberate construction. Buildings that seemed to grow from the ground itself, covered in flowering vines and crystalline structures. Fountains that had probably been magnificent when they weren't filled with debris.
Now everything was on fire.
Flames consumed the structures around me, magical fire in colors that shouldn't exist naturally. Purple flames that froze what they touched. Green flames that caused flesh to rot. Red flames that incinerated everything in their path.
Bodies littered the plaza. Humans, elves, creatures I had never seen, all wearing different symbols and colors. They'd killed each other here, recently, the blood still fresh on the cobblestones.
I heard shouts in the distance and explosions. The clash of magic and steel echoing through streets.
And then I looked up.
A meteor was falling directly toward me.
I extended my divine senses immediately. The object blazed with magic. This was a spell, one I recognized that was similar to the one from the spell notes Bahamut had given me. Meteor Swarm, a ninth-level magic spell.
Except this wasn't the same as the spell in the notes. That one would have created multiple meteors spread across a wide area. This was a singular and concentrated, all the power that should have been distributed across four impacts focused into one devastating strike.
Someone had modified the spell or made a similar spell. Made it more precise, more deadly. And aimed it directly at where I now stood for maximum devastation.
I had maybe five seconds before impact.
My annoyance flared. I'd just arrived in this reality, hadn't even gotten my bearings, and already someone was trying to kill me even if it was meant for someone else.
Fine.
I'd been practicing Arcane Gate in my mind, working through the spell based on Korvus's demonstrations and the personal notes he gave. I hadn't actually cast it yet, divine magic and arcane magic operated on different principles, but they were similar enough. It was time to see if theory translated to practice.
I raised both hands, channeling power. The spell structure formed in my mind, spatial coordinates calculating automatically. Two points in space, both directly in the meteor's path, forming a sort of T shape with portal.
"Διαπύλη Τόξου!" I shouted, speaking in Greek , replacing the draconic used for the spell, because the words felt right.
Two circular portals opened simultaneously, one directly overhead and one at besides it. The positioning was perfect, if I'd calculated correctly, I cast a slow barrier around the portals as well just before.
The meteor hit the upper portal traveling at terminal velocity. It emerged from the lower portal, still traveling, and slammed into it's other half.
The collision was catastrophic. The meteor, meeting its own mass and momentum, shattered. The explosion released all the spell's contained energy in a single devastating burst, but the debris scattered outward instead of concentrating on a single point.
Chunks of flaming rock peppered the plaza having been slowed enough they didn't cause more damage. I raised a barrier of divine energy, deflecting the worst of it. The heavy debris impacts shook the ground, cracked a few buildings, and sent up plumes of dust and smoke.
The portals collapsed as the spell exhausted itself. I'd managed maybe a few seconds of stability, pathetic compared to what a trained wizard could achieve, but adequate for saving the lives of those still fleeing. Although those wizards didn't portal a giant meteor.
I let my divine presence flare outward, no longer bothering to hide what I was. Very annoyed at whoever had just tried to kill me and everyone around here needed to understand they'd picked the wrong target.
My senses extended across the city, searching for the caster, searching for any other threats.
And I found something else, some lesser divine beings, scattered across what felt like miles of urban sprawl. One presence in particular blazed with fire. Perhaps two hundred yards away, moving toward my position with aggressive intent. I turned toward the approaching power, hammer raised and ready.
Two creatures burst through the smoke and flame. Dogs, or something that resembled dogs, each one easily the size of a horse. Their bodies were wreathed in fire, their eyes glowing like molten metal, their jaws lined with burning teeth that looked like obsidian blades.
They charged without hesitation, moving with extreme speed.
The first leaped, jaws opening wide enough to swallow my head. I sidestepped, brought my hammer around in an arc, and caught it mid-air. The impact sent it flying backward, crashing through a burning building with enough force to collapse part of the structure.
The second dog was smarter. It circled, looking for an opening, flames trailing from its mouth as it prepared to breathe.
I didn't give it the chance. I closed the distance in two steps, divine speed making me a blur, and swung my hammer in an overhead strike. The dog tried to dodge, but I'd anticipated the movement. The hammer connected with its skull, and I felt bone crack beneath bronze.
The dog yelped, a sound of pain and surprise, and stumbled backward.
"Enough!"
The voice came from the smoke, carrying authority that made both dogs freeze mid-movement. A figure emerged, humanoid but wreathed in flames that didn't consume. Male, perhaps thirty in appearance, wearing armor that seemed forged from living fire. His eyes blazed with power.
"Stop your attack!," he commanded, and I realized he was talking to me, not his dogs. "You're trespassing in Boros territory during a sanctioned guild operation. You will stand down or face the full might of the Legion."
I stared at him in disbelief, taking in the assumption that I was the aggressor here. "Someone just dropped a meteor on my head and your little pets attacked me. I was defending myself."
"That meteor was aimed at Dimir infiltrators, not random travelers, all those fleeing are them, most of the civilians were already evacuated from this section a while ago," He gestured sharply, and the two dogs limped back to his side, whimpering. "What are you still doing in the middle of an active combat zone?"
"I just arrived," I said, lowering my hammer slightly but keeping it ready.
The fire-wreathed figure's expression shifted from aggressive certainty to confusion. "You just... arrived? From where?"
He studied me for a long moment, taking in my hammer, my divine presence that I'd stopped bothering to hide, the fact that I'd just punted two of his divine servants like they were mundane animals.
"You're a planeswalker," he said finally.
"I'd appreciate it if people stopped trying to kill me today. I've had more than enough of that recently."
The fire-wreathed figure whistled low. "You picked the worst possible day to arrive in Ravnica. The guilds are at war, every district is a combat zone, and Niv-Mizzet just declared martial law. If you want to survive, you need to get out of the open. Now."
As if to emphasize his point, another explosion rocked the plaza. A building collapsed nearby, sending up a plume of debris and flame.
"Fine," I said. "Where should I go?"
The fire-wreathed figure gestured sharply toward a side street. "Follow me. I'll get you to a safe house the Boros maintains near the district boundary. Stay close and keep your head down."
I followed him through smoke and rubble, stepping over bodies that still bled onto the cobblestones. The dogs flanked us, their flames dimmed now, eyes scanning the ruins for threats, their injury's already recovered.
"Name's Razia," the figure said without looking back. "Legion Commander, Tenth Battalion. Those are my hounds, Ember and Ash. Sorry about the hostile reception, we've been fighting Dimir assassins all morning and when I saw someone survive an almost direct meteor strike, I assumed you were another enemy."
"I understand" I said, ducking as another explosion sent debris flying overhead. "What's going on here? You mentioned guilds at war."
"You really are new." Razia turned down an alley, the hounds padding ahead to scout. "Ravnica's divided among ten guilds, each controlling different aspects of city governance. We've maintained an uneasy peace for decades, but three weeks ago someone assassinated the Azorius Senate Guildmaster. Blamed it on the Gruul. The Gruul retaliated by burning Azorius holdings. The Selesnya tried to mediate and got caught in crossfire. Now everyone's fighting everyone, and Niv-Mizzet locked down the entire city under martial law until order's restored."
Michael's memories stirred, providing context. Ravnica, a city-plane where an entire world was one massive metropolis. Ten guilds vying for power, each representing different philosophical and magical approaches. Usually kept in check by the Guildpact, some ancient magical treaty that prevented open warfare.
Apparently that treaty had failed.
We emerged from the alley into a courtyard that looked defensible. High walls, single entrance, clear sightlines. A dozen Boros soldiers occupied the space, tending wounds, checking weapons, preparing for the next engagement.
They looked up as we entered, hands moving to weapons until Razia raised a palm. "Stand down. He's a new planeswalker, and he just arrived. I found him in the Dimir sweep zone, He defended himself very well, enough that I decided bringing him in was smarter than fighting him."
The soldiers relaxed slightly, though several kept watching me with obvious wariness.
Razia gestured to a bench against one wall. "Sit. Catch your breath."
I sat, letting my divine presence dampen back to something approaching normal. The hammer rested across my knees, still warm from recent use. "How long before this war ends?"
"Depends on who wins." Razia pulled off his helmet, revealing features that looked almost too perfect. Definitely not human. "Niv-Mizzet wants order restored within the month. The guilds want their grievances addressed first. Nobody's willing to back down, so we keep fighting until someone breaks."
"And civilians?"
"They were evacuated to guild sanctuaries where possible. The rest shelter in place and pray they're not in a combat zone when the next skirmish breaks out." His expression turned grim. "We've lost thousands already. Mostly caught in crossfire or targeted by opportunists using the chaos to settle old scores."
"You mentioned Niv-Mizzet," I said.
"The Firemind himself. Parun of the Izzet League, oldest and most powerful being on Ravnica." Razia's voice carried respect and wariness in equal measure. "He's declared himself temporary arbiter until the crisis passes. The guilds aren't happy about it, the dragon's authority is absolute until he decides otherwise."
One of the soldiers approached, a human woman with burns covering half her face. "Commander, scouts report Rakdos cultists moving through the eastern passages. They're heading toward the Orzhov district, probably looking to raid while security's focused elsewhere."
Razia swore, pulling his helmet back on. "How many?"
"At least thirty. Maybe more. They've got demons with them, the small ones bred for urban combat."
"Right." Razia stood, gesturing to his hounds. "Ember, Ash, in formation. You three," he pointed at nearby soldiers, "with me. The rest hold position and maintain perimeter security."
He glanced at me. "You're welcome to stay here until things calm down. It should be safe enough, and we've got wards against scrying and the walls will hold against most magical assaults."
"What about those Rakdos cultists?" I asked.
"What about them?"
"You're short-handed and fighting demons in urban terrain with half a squad is suicide."
Razia's expression turned interested. "Are you offering to help?"
"I didn't come here to watch civilians get slaughtered by opportunistic raiders."
"You have just arrived and this isn't your fight."
"Well someone decided to make it my problem by dropping a meteor on me within five minutes of arrival. That made it my fight." I stood, hammer in hand. "Besides, I'm bored. Might as well make myself useful."
Razia studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright, planeswalker. You want in, you're in. The normal Boros engagement rules apply: protect civilians first, eliminate threats second, minimize collateral damage third. You break those rules, I'll consider you out. Clear?"
I just nodded.
"Good." He turned to his assembled squad. "Time to move out. We've got cultists to kill."
We left the safe house at a run, Razia setting a pace that would have exhausted normal soldiers within minutes. His people kept up without complaint, their conditioning evident in every stride.
The city around us showed more signs of recent combat. Burned buildings, collapsed structures, barricades thrown up hastily across major thoroughfares. Bodies had been cleared from the main streets, dragged into alleys or buildings to await proper disposal.
Razia raised his fist, signaling a halt. We'd reached what looked like a commercial district, shops and warehouses lining both sides of a wide boulevard. Ahead, I could hear screaming.
They moved through the street like a plague, smashing windows, dragging people from their hiding places, leaving destruction in their wake. Thirty cultists exactly as the scout had reported, wearing black and red, their faces painted with blood or actual blood, carrying weapons that ranged from crude clubs to enchanted blades.
And with them, demons. Each one perhaps eight feet tall, winged, horned, radiating malice that made the air itself feel sick.
Razia drew his sword, flames erupting along the blade. "Ready men! Enter the suppression formation. Take down the cultists first, then focus fire on the demons. Planeswalker, you're with me on the lead demon. Try not to level any buildings."
"No promises."
I charged.