Dawn of the Epoch

Chapter XCVIII - Sacrifice

“Not this again.” Hunter said dejectedly.

He was on the roof of a CERN building. The wreckage from the above-ground portion of the ATLAS facility was nearby. The fumarole at the center was still billowing away. The smoke was still rising and drifting toward Mount Blanc, where it accumulated and spun in a deuced-looking vortex. Tiyana, Hongo, and Virgil were on the roof with him. They were in chains. They looked exactly as they did back in Ghaelvord’s jungle compound, except this time, Hongo had taken Hunter’s place in the chains. Malacoda and Shenouda were on the roof as well. They were not wearing chains.

“Ah, there you are. Do not worry, you all have the front row seats. It will be quite the show.” Malacoda said.

“Let them go. I am not going to say it twice.” Hunter replied.

Hunter had a steely look in his eyes.

“Okay boss.” Malacoda gave up surprisingly easily.

He unfastened the chains.

“Hunter!” Tiyana screamed. “Are you okay?”

“Better than you from the looks of it.”

Hunter walked up and put an arm around Tiyana.

“Well, what do the two of you have to say for yourselves?” He asked Malacoda and Shenouda.

He did not know what to expect from them. He had anticipated a fight. He was not sure what to do now. Malacoda was not even Dahjaat. He was just an olive-skinned man with eerie eyes.

“Are we too high up for you to declopse?” Hunter asked.

“Yes, probably. It is difficult to connect with the power source when there is so much air and metal beneath me.” Malacoda replied conversationally.

“I should kill you both.”

Malacoda laughed. “Come now. Be serious. You will do no such thing.”

“You would kill me?” Shenouda asked.

She sounded like a scared child.

Hunter tried to be reassuring, “No dear, of course not. We only want to help you. That is all we ever wanted.”

Hongo and Virgil were rubbing their wrists, which were sore from the chains. Virgil had no staff, Hongo had no guns, Tiyana seemed to have nothing, but then, she always did have a trick up her sleeve. Hunter was Dahjaat and strong enough to clap Shenouda and Malacoda in their own irons. He wondered if he should.

“Tell me why I should let the two of you go.” Hunter demanded.

Malacoda cackled again. “Because it is time. All you can do now is sit back and watch it happen.”

“He’s coming.” Shenouda said. “I can feel it.”

She was right. The vortex had moved down from the mountain. It came cascading down like an avalanche. It was a dark, sooty avalanche, unnatural and terrifying. Hunter watched as farms were engulfed by the chaotic maelstrom. It was coming straight for the city, receding back along the line feeding it from the fumarole.

“Dear God,” Hunter gasped.

“For he commanded and raised the stormy wind, which lifted up the waves; they mount up to the heaven; they go down again to the depths; their souls are melted because of trouble; they reel to and fro and stagger like drunken men; and are at their wits’ end.” Shenouda cried into the howling winds that had crept up around them.

Tiyana wanted to slap her, but she refrained. Virgil bolted.

“Oh no you don’t!” Malacoda shouted.