121. The Ritual

Things started going wrong as soon as the ritual began. 

All eyes went to the ceiling, ignoring the banging on the door. Muffled yells came through them, accompanied by the clashing of metal. None of the ritualists seemed to care. They had trust in Ephram’s guards. It wouldn’t surprise Lukas if the powerful artisan also brought in his Aquila agents to provide extra protection during their ritual. The Revolution was bound to know that he and the ‘shadow golems’ would put up a fight. He didn’t expect the Stormtrooper, Penelope, and Shadow Seekers to take long. They knew something big was going to happen on the night of the new moon. Only the timing had changed.

All the ritualists were silent at first. Lukas saw smiles under the hoods when the ceiling turned black. Confusion followed when stars twinkled in the darkness. As far as Lukas knew, the Void, where the Abyss Engine resided, was devoid of all such existences. It has its own sources of illumination, but many were unnecessary. Most of the residents of the realm didn’t rely on the standard five senses.

Even though the Weaver hadn’t yet met Lukas in person, they had opened their library to him after the encounter with the Void Heart. The books within contained far more information regarding the dimension between universes than the guild library or Penelope’s secret tomes. He had uncovered significant knowledge regarding key entities actively trying to infiltrate Fracture and attempting to influence activities within.

Lukas hadn’t expected the Revolution to have ties to the Abyss Engine, but it made sense. The literature claimed that the Void was eternal and endless, unlike the universes which floated like bubbles within. Most Void Lords used the energy and life from them to sustain themselves. It was entertainment and sustenance for them. 

The Abyss Engine was different. It didn’t seek to consume. Instead, its objective was to accelerate the death and destruction of all universes and assimilate all magic and technology produced during its life to gather fuel and grow. Information regarding the entity wasn’t as detailed as the likes of Oth the Devourer or Shaf the Mind Worm. However, the texts stated that there weren’t many cults connected to the Abyss Engine, and those who followed it didn’t seek death and destruction like the average Void worshipper.

All the pieces started to fall into place as Lukas thought about it. The Revolution was the perfect organization for the Abyss Engine to work with. If it shared knowledge and technology, helping them accelerate Fracture’s technological and arcane growth, there would be more for it to absorb when the world and universe fell. Nukes or misunderstood particle accelerators would do the job. It didn’t sound like the most nefarious of entities, but Lukas had seen greed and ambition ruin lives and empires. The Revolution was already playing fast and loose with concepts they didn’t understand. 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” one of the ritualists whispered.

“What is it?” another asked.

“That’s not the Void,” Ephram said, concerned eyes shooting to Irma and Mira. “Did you get the ritual circle right?”

“I double and triple-checked it!” Mira exclaimed, her tone betraying concern and fear. “Could someone be hijacking the connection or stopping it?”

“Maybe the Great Black Dragon?” another ritualist added. Loud gales filled the room, making all the robes dance. “He must be mad because his fire was suppressed. Maybe he’s coming for us!”

“We need to get out of here!”

“This doesn’t feel right at all! I—”

“Stop panicking, you fools!” Ephram roared, his voice thundering over the gales. “The spell protects everything between the walls and the ritual circle. Only our sacrifice may be touched by whatever is coming through. This is fine. Whoever comes through will have no choice but to accept our sacrifice and provide something in return.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “We might have to use Zaun’s soul to deal with whatever blight he has brought down upon us. Eliminating the Shadow Seekers is not the worst move. They’ve been a thorn in our side for far too long.”

“I don’t think things are going to go the way you think, Ephram,” Lukas stated, smiling at the giant golden yellow eyes that had appeared in the starry sky above. They were predatory and hungry, but intelligent. “This is your last chance. Agree to let me go. Let’s make peace. Your lives won’t be forfeit, and we can come out of this as friends.”

“The bastard did something,” the weaponsmith stated, knuckles white as he tightened his grip on the arcane crystal. It had lost significant luminosity since the ritual began, and the bulk of the reagents had dissolved into the spell circle. “This is a trap, Ephram. We’ve been underestimating him.”

“Listen to the one man here with good sense and survival instincts.” Lukas smiled. “Stop this before it's too late, and we can talk. If not, you’re all going to die.”

“He’s bluffing,” Irma said. “We’ve established that Lukas Zaun is a liar and a confidence man. Misused talents.”

“I’m the liar?” Lukas laughed. “Look. Either you stop this and we talk this out, or Penelope, the Shadow Seekers, and Schwarzberg military take you out. That’s considering we all survive the ritual, of course.”

Ephram’s eyes scanned the ritual circle. “It all looks correct.” He paused. “That includes the section for communicating with the Abyss Engine.” The dried black paint shifted when Lukas raised an arm high above his head and dramatically clicked a finger. “Wait. What did you just do?” His eyes darted to Irma, Mira, and then one of the robed women nearby. “You checked everything. Zaun is supposed to be drugged! How is he using magic?”

“Am I? Or do you have a traitor in here?” It would’ve been a struggle with his arms tied behind his back, but Lukas had long slipped them. It wasn’t an ability but a skill born from years of practice. 

A ritualist advanced toward him, but Ephram threw up a hand. “Don’t. You’ll be marked for sacrifice if you step into the circle.” His eyes narrowed. “Zaun is desperate. Ignore him. Whatever changes he made, they’re inconsequential.” Ephram pointed at a section near his feet. “The protections stand. It doesn’t matter who comes through. Lukas Zaun is marked for sacrifice.” His knuckles whitened as he looked up at the approaching golden-yellow eyes. “He is going to die, and they’ll need to compensate us for the offering.”

The air rippled around the ritual script’s edge, and all the held aether crystals lost their luminosity. Two transparent barriers rose out of the ground. The first was around the small circle that contained Lukas, the second clung to the room’s walls. 

“I suppose there is no going back now.” Lukas sighed. “No one can accuse me of not trying. I didn’t want it to come to this.” He scanned the room until his eyes locked with Mira’s. She had moved away from Irma after the confusion began. “You’re done here, Morph. Say goodbye.”

“What?!” Ephram exclaimed, following Lukas’s eyes. 

Mira flashed a wide grin that didn’t match her face. She winked at Ephram before dissolving into shadows. More of the ritual circle that had been made to appear different using Shadow Mimic changed. Color drained from Ephram’s face.

“I don’t need magic or my abilities to beat you,” Lukas stated as the ceiling’s twinkling darkness enveloped them all. His head was still foggy, and everything that made him a mage and ascended felt out of reach. It felt silly to do a super villain victory speech, but he couldn’t resist. “You thought you were the great puppeteers. The Revolution. The name told me everything I needed to know about you. So, fucking full of yourselves—”

A high-pitched avian screech interrupted Lukas, and the golden glow of monstrous eyes caressed his skin. 

“Shut up, Lukas,” Minarv said. “Human sacrifice? Really? This is how you say hello after all of this time.”

“I thought you wanted to cut off all contact,” Lukas replied. “I worried you’d ignore all of my communion attempts. I had to get your attention somehow. And it worked.”

Arcane energy pulsed outward from where Lukas stood. One of the ritualists left her position, running for the door. She collapsed as soon as her hand touched the external barrier. Her body crumbled into dust.

“What have you done?” Ephram asked, his voice small while his companions screamed.

Lukas ignored them. The leader of the Court of Owls had all of his attention. Nothing else currently mattered.

_________________________________________________________________

“Give me snake eyes!” Ace yelled, slapping the dice at the two dozen fighters rushing up the stairs. He simultaneously launched a pair of melon-sized Shadowfire spheres, infusing them with fear.

The approaching attackers screamed, slowing as the spell exploded, bathing them in black flames. Frost spread across their skin and clothes. It wasn’t enough to harm even mundane individuals. However, the cold, combined with the fear, slowed them enough for the dice to do their job. Ace’s face paled. 

“Fuck!” He swore, looking back at his fellow clone. “Run. I’m out of luck.” Ace took off his hat and threw it like a Frisbee down the hallway. “Better not lose it!”

Eins activated the enchantment carved into his boots. The spell emulated Xander’s charge ability and allowed sliding along the floor in a straight line. He retreated from Ace, moving down the hallway and to the tall doorway on the opposite end. Eins wasn’t sure of the source, but a series of explosions followed. They followed a series of the familiar sizzles and pops that accompanied the breakdown of arcane channels. Cracks blossomed on the ceiling and walls around Ace, and rubble buried him not long after. The collapse also cut off all the approaching defenders.

Unfortunately for Eins, he didn’t get much reprieve. Guards and mercenaries flanked him from both sides. None of them felt stronger than tier two. He held up the storm gauntlet and used its enchantment to block a hail of crossbow bolts. A delayed projectile reached the clone, grazing his shoulder, but the new breastplate protected him, absorbing the force. 

Shaker’s Beard hummed as Eins spun the weapon by its chain. He advanced on the denser gathering of the fighters. Ignoring the individuals who advanced on him or raised shields. Air rippled around the axehead, and lightning danced. He sheared through metal and flesh like they were paper. Thanks to Arcane Smithing and its mid-tier ability, Eins didn’t need to feed the enchantment much magic to get the most out of it.

Eins advanced until he reached a foe with the ability to survive his weapon. It was a giant of a woman with skin that shone like it was polished steel. Shaker’s Beard failed to bite deeper than half an inch. The woman wrapped her shiny arm around the chain, ignoring the lightning caressing her skin. She pulled with inhuman strength, almost pulling Eins off his feet. If not for the armor enhancing his strength, he was sure the woman would’ve yanked his shoulder out of his socket. 

The clone put all of his hopes in the Storm Gauntlet. His attacks and the lightning weren’t going to make it through the silvery steel skin. Feeding it enough energy to make the metal overheat was likely an option, but Eins neither had the energy nor the time for such an attempt. He needed to attack her insides. He allowed her to get close and grapple him before pressing his gauntleted left palm against her bare midriff. Eins proceeded to release all the magic within as a blast of focused sound energy.

No visible damage appeared on the woman, but she screamed. The woman turned into an unbearable weight as her knees gave way and she went down, taking Eins with her. It wasn’t enough to take the woman out altogether. He attacked her with a follow-up sell. A low-energy, high-control contact spell channeled high-frequency vibrations radiated from the clone’s hand. He pressed it against the woman’s left ear.

“Stop lying around,” Bass grumbled, bursting through a nearby door. He picked up the immobile woman and tossed her aside like she weighed nothing. “This place is crawling with dragonfire and otherworldly arcane energy users. We’ll need you to break all the wards.”

“I suck at that. What about Zwei and Flukas?”

“Gone. There’s only a Stalker and Stormtrooper left. We’ll need your expertise.”

“Any luck getting to the boss?” Eins asked, using Bass’s mane to pull himself up. The familiar didn’t seem to mind. 

“No. The barrier won’t let us open the doors. Penelope is trying her best. That’s why we need you.”

Eins groaned, massaging his shoulder. He returned the Storm Gauntlet to the journal’s storage space. He replaced it with a retractable shield. It was only half as potent, containing nothing but a lightning enchantment. It would have to be enough.