Eternity Gate

by Traci Harding

  ‘To old times.’ He held out his cup to her in toast, and she returned the gesture.

  ‘And old friends,’ she added and they drank together.

  ‘We used to spend a good deal of time drinking tea and chatting, once upon a time,’ he reminded her.

  ‘Taren Lennox remembers viewing your chronicles in another timeline, En Noah,’ Hudan explained how she recalled their history. ‘Thus I know you speak the truth; we certainly did have a tea party or two.’

  Noah had a chuckle. ‘I wish I could remember the events of which you speak, despite your horrendous reports of them.’

  ‘It was always a joy to see you again, Noah.’ She dropped the formality for they had been very close in every past life that she could remember. ‘You always gave your all to help us save the day, just as Fen did, just as Ringbalin does.’

  ‘Ringbalin?’ Noah queried. ‘Is that my name in your universe?’

  Hudan nodded, getting teary once more. ‘I miss him, I miss Fen, and yet you are here.’ She knew she wasn’t making much sense, she was just emotional and confused.

  ‘You’ll get home to Taren Lennox.’ Noah felt he understood her heartache. ‘The universe will provide whatever you need, it always has.’

  Hudan gave half a laugh for she believed this also. ‘But in order to do that, first I need to know what I want.’

  ‘The answers are coming.’ He glanced to the door Dan was behind.

  Hudan felt the teacup slipping from her hand, yet she could not stop it from smashing to the floor, as her head was swimming. Fortunately, the disturbance grabbed Noah’s attention and he was quick to prevent her from crashing to the floor also.

  ‘Hudan?’ She heard him calling from far away as darkness shrouded her consciousness from her current reality.

  ‘Hudan!’ Song came rushing down the stairs, and seeing Noah propping up their leader’s unconscious form, he was stunned. ‘Not her too?’

  Noah found the statement alarming, having assumed Hudan had fainted due to her pregnancy. ‘Her too?’

  ‘All three of our seers go down at once,’ Rhun commented as he stared at the two women laid out in the upstairs bedroom of Noah’s lake house. ‘That has to be significant.’

  ‘One would certainly assume so,’ Noah agreed. ‘Is it just a coincidence this has happened right when the captain began his regression?’

  ‘So you think they may be all witnessing the same prophecy?’ Rhun posed.

  ‘What would be the point in that?’ Telmo reasoned. ‘Unless the sender feared more than one of the seers might be taken out?’

  Rhun raised his brow, conceding the point. ‘They are all very vulnerable like this, that’s for certain.’

  ‘We shall maintain a vigil over them.’ Wu Geng sounded like he was volunteering.

  ‘That we shall.’ Rhun would have Sybil guarded also. He thought of bringing her to the lake house, but in all honesty she was probably safer kept apart from the timekeepers, as there was a good chance that their nemesis had no idea she existed. ‘I guess all we can really do now is wait.’

  PART 2

  BEFORE TIME BEGAN

  6

  THE DARK UNIVERSE

  It is now evident that we were overconfident in the belief that we, the Fallen Elohim, would thwart the human consciousness experiment without punishment; in attempting to outsmart the creator with our mind-eaters, our emperor has only increased the risk of our own extinction. I have come to the realisation that no amount of human blood and torture will ever sate the hatred within us that burns toward the one who has condemned us to a meaningless existence in this universe of eternal shadow. With no memory of what transpired prior to our awakening in this hell of ice, rock and darkness, it is our emperor’s recollection of our fall from grace that serves as fuel in our quest to destroy all the human beings who replaced us as the creator’s most prized work of art.

  Even the almighty, in all his wisdom and glory, did not foresee what a mistake it would be to banish his disgraced Elohim to the same dark universe in which the human consciousness experiment was evolving. For the Elohim wield an unnatural power over the elements here, and there are elite among us that possess the ability to track any target we can conceive of.

  These elite are known as the Grigori, and I am their commander. It is our sole purpose to hunt down and kill human beings; and, still in their evolutionary infancy, they are but livestock for our slaughter. Their minds, so undeveloped, have been easy prey for our mind-eaters that have spread like a virus through the human colonies, and through every sentient race on every habitable planet in this universe. This was always the intent of our emperor, who wanted fealty from every being in this universe. The human infection was just a by-product of this mental takeover, for they are not considered intelligent enough to be a threat.

  Humans are merely the target of our political vendetta with the creator, and are slaughtered whether infected by our mind-eating virus or not. Still, the spread of our mind-eaters has been so efficient that their food supply has dried up and our bio-energetic creatures have now turned on their creators to fulfil their great hunger.

  Not only did our developers fail to foresee their brainwashing virus’ ability to self-reproduce and spread, but we have also learned that the second generation of the hybrid strain are born free of the imperial conditioning of their parent; the minds of their hosts were not brainwashed into serving the emperor, but into serving themselves. Thus a rogue batch of humans, once docile and passive, are now seeking vengeance on the emperor, along with other rogue beings sired from the more hybrid races in this universe, who pose a far greater threat to our emperor’s safety. Fortunately for the Elohim, their self-promoting infection prevents them from uniting in their cause to fight back and destroy us. Mind-eaters have become to the Empire what the Fallen Elohim had once been to our creator: a disease to be avoided, abandoned and put down. Yet, we have no other universe to banish these undesirables to, nor any means to combat the virus. With no escape and no cure, our options for survival are fast disappearing, along with the last free-thinking minds in this universe.

  Up until now our strict quarantine measures have kept the mind-eaters away from our base planet, Tartarus, but it is only a matter of time before the infection spreads and is beyond our control.

  ‘Why does this human wish to see me?’ I queried Sammael, the fiercest warrior among the Grigori, as we entered the cell block, for I had no interest in attempting to try and converse with the livestock.

  ‘This one is different to the others,’ he explained. ‘Its intellect seems more advanced.’

  ‘All the more reason to kill it,’ I seethed, itching to do just that. ‘Is it infected?’

  ‘No.’ Sammael knew this news would come as a surprise. ‘The virus wouldn’t take on this one, it appears to be immune.’

  ‘What?’ I was stunned to a standstill.

  Sammael shrugged. ‘That is why it isn’t dead already … I thought the science division might be interested in this case. It’s a fair way past its prime, by the look of it, but it speaks more efficiently than most humans, none of the usual vagueness, slurring and drooling.’

  I peered into the cell through the bars of the small window — having lived our entire lives in darkness, light was a hindrance to our sight, as was the sole occupant within the cell I was about to enter. ‘Why is it glowing like that?’ I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the anomaly.

  ‘We don’t know, but we suspect it has something to do with its immunity.’ Sammael activated the eye-shield on his helmet, which materialised to protect his light sensitive vision and I did likewise. With a nod from me, he gave the mental order to unlock the door; it vanished and we entered the cell.

  The subject appeared a pitiful example of the breed, even by human standards — it was old, frail, malnourished and as unkempt as any of its kind.

  Humans were ugly creatures to begin with — short and dumpy, with skinny arms, too long for the disproportionately stum
py legs needed to carry their dumpy bellies and the excess folds of skin and flab that weighted down their forms and acted as insulation from the cold. Their bodies were completely hairless and their heads bald. Their huge noses were used for sniffing out anything edible; for unlike we Fallen, humans needed nourishment to sustain themselves. Their mouths too were oversized, as eating was their primary pastime — next to replicating — and they were known to eat just about anything, hence their repulsive smell! They had but one eye, perched above their nose, amid the folds of skin that cascaded down their faces. They rarely ever opened this eye, unless confronted by something their other more developed senses could not comprehend.

  ‘What do you want with the commander of your executioners?’ I queried impatiently, as it seemed to take an age for the weakling to lift its head and focus its eye upon us, yet it looked to Sammael before addressing me.

  ‘I thank you, Sammael,’ it said. ‘I shall see Armaros next.’

  ‘As you wish,’ replied Sammael, and I watched in astonishment as my brother in arms left to do the bidding of this worthless creature. It was impossible to conceive that humans may have developed their own form of viral mind control, but what else could explain what I was witnessing?

  ‘Sammael?’ I called after him, but the door rematerialised to block my pursuit of my subordinate, and he departed down the corridor without looking back. ‘What did you do to him?’ I turned to confront the captive. The thought crossed my mind to depart without asking questions, less I risk being controlled in the same manner.

  ‘I have a message for you, Azazèl, from your father,’ it said.

  The claim made me seethe. ‘I have no father, only my emperor.’

  ‘Samyaza was never your sovereign,’ it calmly informed me, sounding very sure of the fact. ‘Not even before the fall.’

  Provoked by his treasonous implication I drew my sword to seek retribution. ‘How could you have knowledge of before the fall, when even I do not?’

  The prisoner did not flinch, but only became more insistent. ‘Your reason for being in the dark universe was wiped from your memory before you even became conscious of being here.’ He appealed for me to hear him out. ‘Your maker has not forsaken you, nor any evolving soul in this universe,’ it insisted, in such a way as I had never seen before — a tear trickled from its eye.

  ‘You are mad.’ I lowered my sword, curiously disposed towards restraint.

  ‘You were, like the maker, well disposed to humankind and all living things … even the Fallen, who so hated the advent of humanity.’

  The mere suggestion of me ever being disposed towards humankind disgusted me, for I found them absolutely repulsive.

  ‘Nonetheless, you, like the creator, did not understand Samyaza’s adverse reaction to humankind and volunteered along with your Grigori brothers to follow the Fallen Elohim into the lowest evolution in the multi-verse.’

  ‘I would never volunteer for this!’ I informed through gritted teeth.

  ‘It was the only means to understand the polarity of Samyaza and his ilk, and to protect other self-aware beings from his opposing aspect and influence.’

  ‘I understand my emperor’s conviction all too well.’

  ‘Your aim has been realised,’ it granted. ‘But I can assure you, the Grigori came here to protect humanity, not to destroy it.’

  The premise had me riled for a moment, but then I was amused by its attempt to outsmart me. ‘Do you really think such lies will save your life?’

  ‘I have no fear of death, for with my immunity to your virus my life eternal is assured,’ it said.

  I frowned, unsure of its meaning. ‘Nothing you could ever tell me would convince me that I should aid your kind.’

  ‘But unbeknownst to you or your emperor, you already have done,’ it stated. ‘Every uninfected human, and those of the other sentient races in this universe that you have killed, have moved on into the more evolved creation of the next universe.’

  ‘What!’ The claim enraged me. ‘I have travelled from one end of this universe to the other, there is no way out.’

  It shook its head to imply I was wrong. ‘Many, many souls have passed through the Eternity Gate and into other universes where the light of the maker still shines to illuminate the path back to the divine source.’

  ‘The Eternity Gate leads to the realm of the creator, into which the Fallen Elohim are forbidden to pass.’ I was sceptical, as many of the Fallen had attempted to breach the gate, and all had failed in the attempt and been cast back down into the darkness of this one, minus their powers.

  ‘That is what I am trying to tell you,’ it appealed. ‘You and your Grigori cohorts are not Fallen Elohim but Watchers sent down by the creator himself to guard humanity against the Fallen.’

  ‘Liar!’ My sword was at its throat once more, and once again it seemed indifferent to the imminent threat of death.

  ‘It is Samyaza who has lied to you, and brainwashed you into bringing your considerable powers to bear for his own selfish cause. Have you never wondered why you and your Grigori counterparts possess abilities beyond even that of your emperor, and a camaraderie that does not exist between any of the other Fallen Elohim?’ it posed, making me feel like an idiot, for I had asked myself those questions, but never dared to chase an answer.

  ‘That would be treason.’ I resisted the urge to explore the premise again.

  ‘No, that would be liberation,’ it claimed. ‘For your emperor knows as well as I who you really are, and that the Grigori were never meant to be confined to this dark existence for eternity, as the emperor and his loyal legions have been. They can only consciously escape this universe if they are summoned forth by name into another beyond it. But none of the souls who have passed through the gate to date have retained their memory of this existence, and neither would the Fallen Elohim. For it is a cosmic law that akashic memory does not pass from one universe to the next … only the Grigori and myself are the exception to that rule.’

  ‘Silence that fallacious tongue or I shall cut it from your head!’ I nicked its face with the tip of my blade in warning.

  It winced in pain, but was not angered by my reprimand. ‘The key to your salvation lies in passage through the Eternity Gate, and the only thing that will thwart your passage is your weapons.’

  ‘You expect me to take your word on that? So you can be confident that we will be robbed of our power attempting passage through the gate, or enter a new universe with no means to defend ourselves?’

  I scoffed. ‘You are very crafty for a human, I’ll give you that.’

  Every Fallen Elohim in the emperor’s charge carried weapons, and none had shed them to attempt passage through the gate. Of course, according to this human’s intricate fabrication, relinquishing their weapons would not have served them in any case. For not all Fallen Elohim were Grigori, that much was true, and none of the Grigori task force had been commanded to attempt passage through the gate as we were considered too prized to be expendable.

  As I pondered this, I was acutely aware that the human’s words were twisting my thoughts and planting seeds of doubt in my mind about my emperor; and I realised the growth of these seeds must be cut off before they matured into my own discontinuance. Those who defied the emperor ended up exposed to his virus and then returned to service, never to question anything ever again. I was stunned that a human could be clever enough to tempt me to my death, in so many ways, with just a few well-chosen statements.

  ‘Who are you that you could obtain such knowledge?’ I challenged it for one last answer before I cut it down, and at that moment Armaros entered the cell with Sammael in tow.

  ‘Do you really not know me?’ it appealed. ‘For we once knew each other well. And, as you were sent to protect humanity, so was I sent to protect you.’

  ‘You are the one who needs protection.’ Amused, I opposed its suggestion. ‘When could I have known you?’

  ‘In the beginning,’ it replied.

&n
bsp; ‘In the beginning was the Logos,’ uttered Armaros, ‘and the Logos was the Sovereign Integral.’

  ‘What are you mumbling about?’ I queried my subordinate, as the human nodded to confirm what Armaros had said.

  ‘All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing made could have been made,’ Armaros continued. ‘In Him was life, and the life was the light of humanity. And the Logos became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; we have beheld his glory, the glory of the only Son from the Father.’

  ‘Watch him!’ I instructed Sammael, as I grabbed Armaros and yanked him into the corridor for a little chat. ‘Are you trying to give this animal delusions of grandeur? Where did that ridiculous prose come from?’

  ‘Sorry, Commander.’ Armaros realised his error. ‘It is something I have heard humans utter before death on many occasions. I committed it to memory, as I have been asked to do with any curious observations.’

  ‘And you think they were referring to this prisoner?’ I emphasised how preposterous this was. ‘More likely it has heard this teaching somewhere and is just twisting the tale to its own advantage.’

  ‘Of course, Commander,’ Armaros humbled himself. ‘I only wished to confirm that I had knowledge of the parable.’

  ‘You’ve made that painfully obvious.’ I was piqued.

  ‘Do you want me to kill it?’ he proffered, to make amends.

  ‘No. This one has a dangerous way with words,’ I decided. ‘You and Sammael should both leave. I will finish it myself.’

  When my subordinates left, the human must have known death was imminent, yet it did not cower, attempt to flee, or beg for me to stay my hand.

  ‘So in light of learning that my executioner shall be my liberator, Grigorian, I must pose something of a quandary to you now?’ it asserted.