Dawn of the Epoch

Chapter XCVIII - Sacrifice

The angelic life, void of strife,

Brought on by the epoch.

Angels dance, revel, and prance,

The epoch done,

The people run to find the sun, but

Take their place,

As they fall from grace

“Shenouda is the first in a new line. We will build a race of supermen that will put the Aldenduenum to shame. Mankind will be majestic once again, but far and beyond anything that they could have dreamed of before with all of their anachronistic sentiments and obsolete rules. The Dahjaat will rule benevolently over them as they grow, and we will grow with them.”

“No!” Hunter shouted.

The storm rose up around him and tried to drown him out, but his Dahjaat lungs rang out like a clarion battlecry.

“The madness ends now!” Hunter screamed the phrase with his entire torso. The words originated in his belly and bellowed out of his throat with a force that set even Ghaelvord the colossus aback.

Ghaelvord recovered quickly and responded, “And who would stop me, you? I have yet again become Typhon, the father of all monsters, and the typhoon that ended the vanity of the Aldenduenum will revisit the Earth. I was stopped once, but this is not that time. And you. You are no Zeus!”

Ghaelvord was sneering now, watching their every move. Hunter strode toward Tiyana. He did not walk fast enough to look nervous. He walked resolutely. He cusped her cheek.

“I will always love you.” He said.

He kissed her again.

“Give him hell.” Tiyana said as she clasped his hand and kissed him back. “No regrets.”

Then, Hunter was off. He ran like a cheetah, sprinting wildly forward toward the edge of the roof. The storm surged around him. A bulge appeared beneath Ghaelvord’s monumental shoulder. The bulge became an arm and a fist and it came down on Hunter like a hammer. The god-like hand tried again and again to crush him like an insect, but he kept going. He ducked and rolled, bobbed and wove. He reached the edge. As he crested the edge, he activated the kebaac. Normally, the sonar of his sixth sense would reveal a clear picture of his surroundings. This time, however, the wind interfered and he saw only fuzzy shapes. Nevertheless, he found three balconies, a flagpole, and a scaffold for window-washing. He dropped from one to the other, breaking his fall in stages as he dropped to the pavement.

Hunter looked up and saw the cyclone receding. It was coming for him. He sprinted toward the wreckage of the CERN facility and the shaft leading down to the ATLAS detector. As he ran, he turned his head and saw Ghaelvord’s colossal torso at the apex of a violent tornado. The tornado was moving toward him at breakneck speed. He ran harder than he thought possible.

“You can run, but you can’t hide.” Ghaelvord boomed smugly.

The booming voice filled the Route de Meyrin like a public announcement megaphone. Hunter climbed the wreckage of the old ATLAS shaft facility. When he reached the fumarole he glanced back. Ghaelvord towered behind him. Ghaelvord had ended the pursuit and simply stared down at him.

“And what do you think you will accomplish here?” Ghaelvord boomed.

Hunter narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. He plunged his hand into the smoke that was billowing out of the shaft. He could feel dark energy in the nebula. He could feel it being pulled out through the singularities inside the great ATLAS detector. His eyes rolled back into his head and he let the energy from the aether flow into himself.