Wandering Through Realities

Chapter 3: The Aeons Torn

(Adrolon's Perception)

(Optional Background Music: Epic Score - Prepare For the End)

A deafening noise erupted behind Adrolon as he breached the Æthereal Boundary. His vision blurred and cohesiveness thrown askew, he had not the slightest inclination that the ground was rushing up to greet him.

"Ugh..." he groaned, then shouted, "what?"

He became somewhat alert and noticed a huge gust of wind was pushing at his torso. He looked down at his bird's eye viewpoint, only to see terrain sprawled out across the horizons; mountain ranges, verdant grasslands, dense forests, rustic villages that he hadn't seen before, and the castle were the sum of its parts. It appeared to be around midday. A cloud whizzed past his head before it finally dawned that he was in a freefall.

"BY THE GODS! WHAT THE FU-"

Adrolon continued to challenge the arid peace with loud obscenities as he achieved terminal velocity. He calmed down and his mind began to clear once the adrenaline wore off.

"I must have accidentally set myself off course when I stumbled back there," he said to no one in particular, "a rookie move indeed, Adro."

I probably have some time left before I should figure out a way to survive this, he thought. Strange, I'm already beginning to absorb energy from the landscape. What to cast, though...

He pondered and weighed his options. He observed the cloud line below him, and came to a startling realization: he didn't have as much time as he originally thought. The cloud line was eerily close to the ground, and Adrolon would be passing through it shortly. He began thinking faster, searching for a solution. He mostly used blue and green mana, and seldom used black mana. He never sat right with white or red mana.

Though white Auras are vastly superior in abundance and efficiency, he surmised, I suppose a green protective Aura will be the best approach. Which Aura spell would be most effective, though? Blast!

He then began to focus all mana absorption on a forest to his left, drawing only green mana into his system. He would need as much as he could get. He thought back to his time in other planes, remembering what kind of spells he learned, and which would serve best in his plight. He remembered an Aura he had learned in the realm of Argoth that had been passed down for many generations. It relied solely on green mana and forested areas; the more forests near the caster of the spell, the more power and toughness the caster acquired.

That's it! Adrolon's mind exclaimed. Perfect for my situation. There's miles of forest just off to my left. For safe measure, he altered his trajectory so he would land closer to the forest.

Adrolon had just passed through the cloud line, with only about one thousand feet to go before impact. He steeled himself; it was now or never. He channeled all of his green mana so it would sit at the surface of his entire body, ready to be used. Taking one last look at the landing zone, a grassy knoll near the edge of the forest, due south of the village, he closed his eyes.

"Here goes nothing, I suppose," he said. He took a deep breath and clasped his hands together. A surge of green mana encased his entire body, taking the shape of lumber-esque armor plates. He was ready.

"Blanchwood Armor!," he shouted.

One Year Ago

(Optional Background Music: Jesper Kyd - City of Rome (AC: Brotherhood OST))

The Supercity of Hæmeryth glistered in the early morning, as the glass and steel behemoths of society blinded its inhabitants, amplifying the sun's reflection. The entirety of Planet Eridiæn was bustling with activity around this time, with Hæmeryth as the hub of a larger system. The major hub. The Orbital Superspeedway ran through the outskirts of town, a mega highway where trains and other means of mass transport can import and export goods — and citizens — either across the country, or up into space. The infrastructure of the entire planet ran on the power of mana. Without mana, the levels of technology here would have never been developed.

In one of the trains speeding towards town, with an extra large coffee and a fresh copy of The Eridiæn Post Gazette newsprint, an eighteen year old Manætheologist by the name of Adrolon was on his way to work. From a young age, mana and physics came naturally to him, and so his parents persuaded him to attend school to study the science of mana, or Manætheology. He couldn't thank them enough for doing so, for he was having the time of his life trying to uncover the secrets of one of the most ambiguous forces in the known universe.

Adrolon was sitting in a large, silvery train car with other patrons, reading his newspaper. The train coming from his suburban town didn't have that many people or stops for that matter, so he enjoyed the quaint migration. It merged off onto an exit on the Superspeedway, continuing its route towards the city.

Adrolon was viewing the Interplanetary Stock Exchange section of the print, to check on how his field's economy was doing, when the conductor addressed the passengers.

"Passengers of Myr Township, Outbound East, this is your conductor of this morning's commute speaking," said the train conductor from the overhead audio system, "we are now entering Harbor District of Hæmeryth at approximately three hundred and twenty seven miles per hour. Our final stop before the loop will be at the intersection of Qaucia Boulevard and the Rænnor Orbital Elevator. Please refrain from moving until the train has come to a complete stop, and use caution when exiting the train car. We hope you enjoyed the ride, and thank you for choosing Eridiæn Planetary Transit as your form of travel this morning. Have a wonderful day!"

Exactly as the conductor said, the train stopped in front of the Rænnor Orbital Elevator – the largest of its kind on the planet. The elevator itself was actually six elevators put into one; three for passengers, and three for freight.

Adrolon exited the train station and walked down Qaucia Boulevard, passing hordes of people, going about their business. He passed entrances to skyscrapers, stores, performers, street vendors, mages, etcetera. There were no cars on these streets; the city implemented a system that allowed citizens to fly personal vehicles in unrestricted airspaces. Still, that didn't make it any less difficult to weave one's way through the city.

Adrolon stopped in front of an enormous building, reaching his destination. The sign on the glass building read Welcome to the S.H.A.S.M.: The Supercity of Hæmeryth's Association for Science and Mana.

The city's names are so damn long!, thought Adrolon as he entered the skyscraper.

The entrance room was vast and comfortable. Plants were stationed here and there, lights gave the illumination one would expect from a café, and the walls were chalk white. Chairs were aligned on the walls, in case there was a line. Luckily, no one was in front of Adrolon at this time of day. He walked right up to the counter as per his morning ritual.

The secretary behind the counter was a stumpy woman of withering age. She wore oversized glasses that hung on the bridge of her nose, and a lot of jewelry. She noticed Adrolon approaching.

"Identification please, young man," the elder croaked in a cackling voice. Adrolon handed her his ID card.

"Adrolon...Queerville, is it?" she asked him, stifling her laughter.

"It's pronounced 'Q'kerav–'," began Adrolon as he caught on to her unorthodox humor, "I believe we've been over this before, Miss Eden." He smiled.

"Oh! I'm sorry dear, I must have misread," said Eden as she let out her laughter, handing his ID back. "You pass security as always, Adro. Have a good day at work, sweetie."

"Thanks, Edie," said Adrolon, walking toward the elevators, "see you at lunch?"

"Wouldn't dream of missing it." Eden swiftly responded. The elevator doors opened. "You have a big day ahead of you. Go change the world, young man."

Adrolon nodded and walked into the elevator. He entered in which floor he wished to go to – the 152nd – and finished the rest of his coffee as he waited. He observed the city before him slowly shrink as he gained altitude. An audible *sigh* broke the muffled harmonics of the elevator. A thick atmosphere of nervousness was fogging the perimeter.

I hope everything goes according to plan, Adrolon thought. He was fidgeting with his coffee cup. Over one year spent on this single mana-propulsion theory.

He opened a bag that he had brought with him, and opened a folder containing a report titled:

[The Principles of Mana-Propulsion and Efficient Interstellar Travel]

A name was imprinted underneath the title.

[By: Adrolon Q'keraviel, ManD., Department of Mana-Tech Applications, The S.H.A.S.M.]

At the demonstration, just set the energy cannon and flip the switch, thought Adrolon. He finished running the math through his head. You can do this, Adro. You will get the funding and you will make history this day.

The elevator gave an obnoxious ding and opened, revealing a large white room with hallways going this way and that. Adrolon promptly exited and made his way to a larger hallway on the opposite side. Two armed guards, with black armor and mana-rifles, were guarding the entrance. They looked in Adrolon's direction; their visored helmets hid any expression they might've shown. The guard on the left spoke up.

"Knock 'em dead, Doctor," he said with a modicum of respect.

"Not literally, Doc," said the gruff-voiced guard on the right, "we'd like to keep our jobs."

"Ha! You and me both," replied Adrolon as he passed both of them. The three snickered, and Adrolon continued his journey to Judgement Day.

Adrolon entered a gigantic propulsion laboratory. In the center of the lab, lying under a sterile tarp, was the pièce de résistance of the entire program that Adrolon and his team had worked so hard to achieve. His three colleagues, who came early to set up, were suited up next to the device. He approached the trio; Adrolon's best friend met him halfway.

"A-dro!" the lanky man called out to Adrolon. The man also donned a suit, like the rest of the trio, except his helmet was taken off. He sported a black goatee and short, black hair with thick brows. His voice waffed a heavy accent with a smooth tone for someone in his late thirties. Needless to say, he was envied my many.

"Hey, Mikæl," said Adrolon as he shook Mikæl's gloved hand, "are you ready for the show?"

"Da! As ready as I will ever be, my dear friend," Mikael responded. He patted Adrolon's shoulder and said, "'The Beast' – she is all ready for showtime. All you must do is fancy her sweet spots, and make pretty with the higher pinheads when finished, ya?"

"You got it, Mik. I'm going to go suit up before our psychotic President gets here," said Adrolon.

Soon afterward, Adrolon was standing next to his colleagues, all wearing identical lab equipment. The clock read seven thirty in the morning. The team took a collective deep breath.

Come on, it's showtime, Adrolon thought.

As if on queue, a short, no-nonsense man with a parted taupe postiche led a group of ten high-ranking officials into the laboratory. The man stopped in front of the quartet of scientists, raising his thin eyebrow at Mikæl expectantly. Mikæl nodded at him, notifying the man that the demonstration was ready.

The man leaned toward Mikæl and whispered in a nasally, uptight voice.

"Should this demonstration fail, Mr. Jzenkischshev, you will lose your funding, and your jobs. Are we understood?" asked the man.

Mikæl, who was never a fan of the man standing before him, decided to bite back.

"Should this demonstration fail, Mr. Director," Mikæl began in his thick accent, "I will find you and go after your toupe, like fly on shit! Are we of capiche?"

The Director slowly reached up to touch his hairpiece. He became fearful of the grinning, giant Manætheologist standing over him.

"You... you wouldn't dare," whispered the Director. Mikæl slowly shook his head as the Director scurried to the officials.

The Director cleared his throat, adopted his stern mask once again, and began introductions.

"Mr. President of the United Coalition of Eridiæn, proprietors of S.H.A.S.M., and ladies and gentlemen of the City Council of Hæmeryth," he began, "may I present to you... the future—" The Director snapped his fingers, "—of interstellar travel."

Heeding the Director's signal, Adrolon and his team pulled back the tarp, and unveiled a twelve feet by four feet gray-steel cylinder. At one end of the device, an attachment that appeared to be a vacuum chamber — truly, a void — sat stoic, with wires and tubes connecting to the main chassis. The other end appeared to be an exhaust port, used for propulsion. In the center of the contraption, a small (however bright) ball of golden alloy shone brightly inside of the chamber. On the exterior sat buttons and light fixtures that only the engineers themselves knew which did what.

After a moment of silence, the President spoke.

"That's it?" asked the President, pointing at the device, "that's what our three hundred billion credits went to?"

The President was a tall and stern man with slicked, black hair and an aura of wealth. If one looked closely, one could almost see the silver spoon hanging out of his mouth.

Hearing the venom in the President's words, the Director tried to soothe his temper.

"Oh, now, Mr. President, sir," said the Director, who was ever so slightly trembling, "this is only a miniature prototype of much larger aspirations, you see, and we still have over two hundred bi—"

"What can it do?" the President demanded, who did not even register that the Director was speaking to him. Adrolon smirked.

"Well, Mr. President," said Adrolon, "if you follow us, we'd be more than happy to oblige your curiosity. We'll give you a complete rundown of the M.A.Y.T.I.D.E.: Mana Augmentation Yielding Tritium Into Deuterium Electromagnetically."

"We call her 'The Beast', for short," said Mikæl.

After some time of explanations, the group made their way to the center of the M.A.Y.T.I.D.E. The President tried his damndest to follow along, yet the science was way in over his groomed head.

"—and inside this titanium chassis lies a ball of precious tritium, and when that stream of condensed mana makes contact with this ball, the tritium undergoes a chemical change into deuterium. The energy emitted is thus shot out of the exhaust port that you see in the front. In short," Adrolon paused, "the M.A.Y.T.I.D.E. produces free, clean fusion energy using the natural abundance of mana-based energies in the known universe."

The President's mouth was agape. A blind person could see the money signs rolling around in his eyeballs. Free energy?

**Nothing* is free*, a thought in the President's mind whispered.

"I want to see it at full power. Right. Now," demanded the President. The Director immediately panicked.

"Bu-but sir," quivered the Director, "we don't have the proper shields; we need to run the demonstration at ten percent of its maxi—"

"I want to see this thing in action right this instant, Director Lorwyn!" the President bellowed. "Or I will take your funding, buy myself a gilded bathroom, then wipe my ass with the rest of the money if you do not fire this thing up NOW!"

A tension with the viscosity of lead made its presence known in the propulsion lab. The sociopathic President of the entire planet was ordering Director Lorwyn and the team of scientists to risk many lives in the name of monetary gain and coercion.

A group of twenty armed guards stormed the lab at the sound of their President yelling, taking up arms.

"Sir, is everything alright?" one of the guards asked the enraged President.

"You," the President said as he addressed all of the guards, waving his hand in their direction. "I order you to euthanize these scientists and Director Lorwyn if they do not activate this machine in thirty seconds!"

The armed guards took up positions beside the President; their rifles pointed at Adrolon and his team. They immediately made known who they were siding with. The proprietors and members of the city council have since stepped off to the side, watching from afar in fear.

Gods be with us, thought Adrolon, all of these bastards are completely mad!

"Ten seconds!" the President shouted at the scientists.

Adrolon, Mikæl, and the rest of the scientists looked to Director Lorwyn for instructions, only to be offered none — it appeared that the Director had undergone shock. The proprietors and members of the city council were escorted out of the room.

"Five!" yelled the President.

A bead of sweat formed on Adrolon's brow. Something had to be done.

"Four!"

Mikæl closed his eyes. He would die doing the very thing he lived for.

"Three!"

Director Lorwyn was having a full-on panic attack. How did all of this mess escalate so fast?

"Two!"

Another member of the scientists started sobbing. Her fiancé just proposed to her last night...

"On—"

"We'll do it!" screamed Adrolon. All eyes, in shock and awe, were glaring daggers into him. He shuddered at the attention.

Mikæl spun Adrolon around, and looked him right in the eye, as if Adrolon too had just gone mad from stress.

"My friend," said Mikæl, a grim undertone forming in his voice, "you know not what 'The Beast' is capable of. If she blows... it will certainly be of the end times for us."

"Mikkie, buddy, Adrolon whispered; tears brimmed in his eyes, "we're gonna die at the hands of that fucking psychopath anyway. Eden told me to 'change the world' this morning... I'm gonna miss her, Mik."

Adrolon, with the weight of the situation finally catching up to him, started hopelessly crying. Mikæl had never seen Adrolon cry like this before; this was pure, unadulterated despair.

"Even in facing certain of death, you do as Miss Eden says, my brother," Mikæl reassured Adrolon, before turning to the rest of the scientists.

"On signal, executive protocol number thirty-seven, code black: Crank 'The Beast' until she can no longer be tamed," Mikæl whispered to them, before facing the President.

"What will it be?" the President asked, still fuming.

"We will commence executive protocol number thirty-seven, code black, immediately," said Mikæl.

Adrolon and the two other scientists got to work on the M.A.Y.T.I.D.E.; one cast spells as another punched in the measurements. Adrolon was tasked with keeping the tritium core stable under the immense pressures of maximum power. After all of the preparations were complete, a loud whirring noise erupted from the machine.

*WWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRR*

"Ah," said Mikæl, "she has awoken."

The President began pacing towards the M.A.Y.T.I.D.E., only to receive immediate protest from his guards.

"Mr. President, keep your distance," one of the guards yelled, "who knows if that thing is stable!"

"Guards," said the President, as he continued his way to the furious machine, "keep these scientists and Director Lorwyn on tab, I want to see what I'm investing in!"

Director Lorwyn, upon hearing his name, snapped out of his near-death experience. He saw the President strutting toward the vacuum chamber of the M.A.Y.T.I.D.E. He was too late.

"Sir, NO!" screamed Director Lorwyn.

The President was standing in front of the vacuum chamber when he felt a sudden, forceful tug at his attire. He was lifted up into the air, and strewn where gravity dictated.

"WOAH!" yelped the President as he was lifted up. "Wh-What's going on?!"

*WWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRR*

In all of his madness, in all simplicity, the President believed himself to be immortal. He had not realized the errors of his approach, and by the time his sanity partially returned, it was too late. The M.A.Y.T.I.D.E., roaring at full power, had condensed a partial black hole vortex inside of the vacuum chamber. As one would expect, the vortex began sucking everything in its path — even the President — into the tritium core. The system began to overload.

"Gods above," Adrolon said to no one in particular, "we need to stabilize right now!"

"Adrolon!" Mikæl yelled over the deafening whirring of the machine. "If 'The Beast' does not kill us, the guards will! We need to keep prez alive!"

Adrolon looked to where the President fell through. His feet was dangling out of the vacuum chamber, slowly being dragged to his demise. Agonizing, primal cries for help filled the chamber, as the President's atoms were being stripped from his very body.

"You pull prez out, I will stop *my Beast!*" With nothing more to say to anyone, Mikæl dove into the controls to shut M.A.Y.T.I.D.E. down before it blew.

Adrolon acted without thought. He couldn't remember what Mikæl told him. All he knew was that he had to keep the President alive; that meant emergency extraction, from a black hole in the vacuum chamber, without dying. Near impossible, most would think in his position, however, Adrolon had nothing to lose, for the guards will surely kill them regardless.

Adrolon rushed over to the President. He cast an emergency anti-gravity Aura on himself — for situations not as severe as this one — yet it was better than nothing. He peered inside the vacuum chamber, struggling to keep his balance. The sight that Adrolon saw would be engraved forever into his mind.

One of the most protected people on the planet, the most politically powerful person on the planet, was slowly and painfully melting in front of Adrolon. As the President's atoms were being taken by the black hole, the skin on his body started falling apart due to a lack of strength.

A large sheet of graphene, lodged in between the President and the tritium core, was the only thing keeping him from vaporizing instantly. The President's bones must have been weakened, as Adrolon's ears made out sickening crunches coming from the President, as the immense gravity well slowly crushed him. The screams and groans from the dying man became unnatural as his vocal chords collapsed.

Adrolon frantically tried to pry the President from the vacuum; however, the skin on his ankles simply peeled off with Adrolon's attempts. He vomited, and the President was unconscious. Suddenly, Mikæl reappeared to address the exhausted scientist.

"Adrolon!" Mikæl screamed. "I cannot stop her, you need to—"

Before Mikæl had time to finish, the graphene sheet keeping the President alive gave way, allowing the deformed man a swift death. The system, which was on its final straw for a while, reached critical mass, and all of the energy gathered throughout was released at once. An explosion of epic proportions completely engulfed the propulsion lab in seconds.

Adrolon, who was about to die, felt a strange twinge erupt in his heart, as if a Spark of sorts had ignited the fires of inspiration inside of him. Adrolon had combated the terrible energy with his own explosion, from within.

A mana vessel, one that Adrolon did not sense before, suddenly poured out and covered his body with a protective Aura of pure energy. White light filled the entire peripheral as the blastwave finally reached him.

...

*BOOM*

...

The dust settled; the thunder faded. Blinding rays were reduced to streaks of yellow from the outside. Adrolon stood with a start, trembling with a terrible case of shell-shock.

Did I... just survive that? Adrolon thought.

He looked for his three teammates, nowhere to be found. All of the guards were unrecognizable, as was 'The Beast'. Through the litter of body parts, there was one other survivor, and Adrolon heard his hack and gargle.

"Mikæl! Oh gods, Michæl..." Adrolon yelped as he embraced his friend. "L-Listen, Mik, I'm getting you out of here!"

"Ad–" *Cough* "–Adro," Michæl hardly whispered his name. "Eden said you had the Spark..."

Adrolon laughed at the unusualness of it all. He continued to cradle Mikæl in his final moments.

"Eden... said I had what?" Adrolon asked, laughing in genuine confused.

"Adrolon, you must leave this place, friend," Mikæl weakly commanded, "they'll be looking for you."

"I... I can't leave you like this, buddy," said Adrolon, tears brimming with sadness.

"I will be fi–" *HACK* "–ugh, Adrolon," said Mikæl, "my time is almost up here, my friend."

"And until then, I will be here at your side," Adrolon retorted, "you can't get rid of me that easily, bud..."

At the appearance of his best friend slowly fading into the darkness, Adrolon began sobbing for his friend.

"...like fly on shit..." Mikæl barely whispered. "One last thing, before I go, Adrolon."

Adrolon could only look on in sadness, as the inevitable swept over his considered brother.

"The fire...has risen...and you...rose...with it..."