The Multiverse War, Part One

Chapter 7

Benjamin scowled, "We have no king. We have a President of the United States of America, and I am a representative of him, as you have so eagerly demanded. I would hope that we would be getting down to business by now."

"Very well. I have sent out spies and scouts into your midst and found that your nation is powerful and grand, with resources presumably superior to the rest of this world. I would offer a pact of sorts. If you bow to me, your people will be spared, and live in prosperity under the protection of the Black Empire. If you deny, you will be annihilated with the rest of this Earth."

The suited man sputtered again, "I... I don't... I could not say..."

He took a deep breath, calming himself and continued, his voice cracking, "I would need to inform my superiors. That is not something for me to decide."

"Bring him to me."

"What?"

"Your 'president'. Bring him to me."

"I-- pff, I cannot... I think you misunderstand. I am but a messenger. I will request an audience with him, but I cannot make such demands."

Yogg'Saron was growing annoyed. This arrogant fool was wasting time. Yogg'Saron would meet with this president himself. The Old God said nothing, simply transferring his essence to Benjamin. The Pylon shattered, releasing a blast of red and black energy and particles, which converged on the messenger, entering him.

Benjamin screamed shortly, but his mind was quickly destroyed, replaced with Yogg'Saron's.

The Old God knew he didn't have much time before the body began decaying and falling apart, unable to contain his power, so he wasted no time in standing, dusting himself off, and pulling out a flip phone from the suit pocket.

Having gained access to his vessel's memories, Yogg'Saron knew how to navigate the menus. He clicked the phone on, found contacts, and pressed [REDACTED].

                                                             ⇋

Erin shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. She had only ridden a horse once before, a couple years prior, but she had never ridden a dragon. This fact almost seemed to surprise Kaldrun when she said it.

"Never? I suppose that makes sense."

Erin gripped the edge of her saddle and readjusted. She kept glancing over at Kaldrun, as though expecting him to drop out of the sky. He glided through the air on huge, leathery wings, tattered and scorched and scarred along the edges. Maldanormu graciously allowed Erin to ride along his back, but she was unsure of the safety of such a venture, especially at this height.

They flew over the clouds, the miles eating away beneath them. Upon their departure, the three men all convened in a small circle and whispered conspiratorially. They all turned and explained that they should go find her immediately, but disclosed few details. They all walked to the huge french doors and stepped out, back into the Caverns of Time.

The group moved silently through the caves, passing odd structures like a little medieval hut, a macabre tower of wood and iron spikes, and some strange bronze dragon-people that patrolled the caves. At the mouth of the cave sat a massive bronze dragon, standing guard. He glanced at the party, a knowing glint in his eye, but said nothing.

As the trio plus one exited the cave, an endless desert unfolded before their eyes. They were in a sort of tiny caldera-like area with an opening on the other side. There were tall bumps of orange-ish stone protruding from the sand, and two bronze dragons flew over head, chasing each other in some game.