Since there is a desire for the story to continue i am going to keep writing starting with the aftermath of Project Aries and the rebuilding process.
As always please vote and comment and suggestions are always welcome.
I hope you enjoy this installment.
Cities on Flame:
October 10: Oslo Norway
Glittering like a fiery diamond the Radisson Blu looms over the city of Oslo as the multiple fires burn into the night. On the roof of the modern hotel two men stand and watch the conflagration one is smiling the other bitter that he is playing errand boy for the former.
"Really Fen why such a sour expression on your handsome features," Loki asked.
"Father I am a great warrior and here we are lugging these things up to the roof for what?" Fen glared at his father's back.
"Because dear boy if you were to leap into the melee you would perish before your first blow fell. This wonderfully devious virus affects both mortal and immortal alike."
"If that is so there can be no Ragnarok the prophecy is made invalid." Fen fumed at his inability to lash out.
"No my son there will be a reckoning but it is simply delayed. We will use this to our advantage and be thankful for this offering to our cause." Loki smiled as he took up his instrument. "Is the amp plugged in and the speaker?"
"All is prepared but why?"
"Nero fiddled while Rome burned. Give your dear old dad the chance to play while Oslo blazes!" Loki said priming the electric guitar for his solo while the ancient city was cremated for out of the ashes a black phoenix would rise!
The music rose and filled the air combining with the crackling sound of the fires and the wail of the sirens of the many emergency vehicles. The symphony of destruction was taken up by the injured and the dying as Loki played on. The melody called for anger and battle and murder of the innocent. If people were going to perish the champion of chaos would push the body count so that heaven itself would weep.
International Space Station:
High above the world in the untainted atmosphere of the International Space Station the astronauts gazed down and where once the electric lights showed the vast population centers of the earth's cities now it was the flickering flames of uncounted fires set or caused by the unchecked destruction inspired by Project Aries. Their tears floated free in the weightless environment and they held each other not knowing what would become of them.
"Who would do this," the young air force pilot whispered to no one in particular.
"I think you are asking the wrong question who could do this," the Russian cosmonaut corrected him. "This is way passed a simple terrorist threat this is a global apocalypse."
"So what do we do," the German engineer and winner of a prestigious scholarship that had led to his appointment to the space station.
"We do our jobs and survive. They haven't forgotten about us someone will come for us." The Russian assured everyone.
"The worst is over with I hear," a young American said. "The internet says that rebuilding has already begun."
"Don't trust everything you read but hope is a good thing." The commander of the mission said patting him on the back.
"So many fires it's like the world is burning," the engineer said softly.
Moscow Russia:
Sebastian Shaw stood staring up at the gated building and pressed the intercom button. There was a loud buzz and a creaking sound of metal on metal as the gate swung inward. He stepped into the courtyard and was escorted to the front door by armed guards. He didn't fear them with the virus at its height they had more to fear from him than the other way around. The mansion had seen better days but compared to the rest of the city it was a sparkling oasis in the sea of shit. He was led to what had been a billiard room but now it doubled as an office and meeting room for Ivan Petranov the bastard son of the former leader of the Iron Rain.
"You have very large balls coming in here Mr. Silver Twilight," Ivan said his English was passable.
"I had nothing to do with what happened to the Iron Rain," Sebastian Shaw said calmly to the young man of sixteen.
"I know I still have eyes and ears in your organization but then that is why you are here is it not?"
"There are opportunities," Sebastian said smoothly. "Chaos breeds change and change is good for business."
"So tell me of this opportunity," the young man turned and he looked far older than his sixteen years. Life on the streets of Moscow had hardened him and sharpened his survival skills to a razor's edge.
"The Order even as weakened as it is, is everywhere and many are hungry to redistribute the power base if you get my meaning."
"I understand and you need my help to restructure your Silver Twilight?"
"Exactly," the serpentine smile on the elder Shaw's face bordered on the demonic.
"What about the Three," Ivan asked.
"We find them and we kill them starting with the Grandmaster," Sebastian said with a voice so cold it made the younger man shiver.
"That has been tried old man," Ivan countered. "And with the virus how do you plan on killing anyone without perishing yourself?"
"There are means of killing that don't involve pulling a trigger."
"Go on," Ivan said leaning closer.
The Black Pyramid:
Nick sat in the very top chamber of the pyramid and looked at the empty seats of the council chamber and let out a breath to try and relieve the ever present stress. Even the necklace Augustus had given him wasn't quite up to the challenge of keeping his Chi perfectly clean. He looked over at Jesse's pyramid moved from the Numenor to a place of honor at the center of the great table. The he glanced down at the two artifacts he had taken from the lost city, the scepter and Abraxxa's crystal and wondered at their apparent loyalty. Nick had to admit to himself that the security he felt when he wore the scepter in its myriad shapes from gauntlet, to arm band, torc and even facsimile of his watch. The power it granted gave him a sense of control over the chaos that his life had become.
'Master,' whispered the scepter. 'I have a new form to try if you'd like.'
"What's that," Nick asked curious as to what shape it could take.
'I can mimic a tattoo quite easily and change on a whim as it suits you.'
"I have just the thing," he said extending his hand and the scepter took on an almost liquid form and slither up his arm and onto his back.
As Nick admired his new tattoo the small pyramid flared to life and Jesse appeared suddenly.
"Hello Nick," he greeted him. "Nice tattoo."
