The chamber was packed full of people.
A room meant to hold at most a few thousand was filled to the brim with half a million ready souls, each one eager to see the spectacle about to happen. It was a once in a life time event, one that they were glad to be alive to witness.
Reminiscent of a Roman Coliseum, the center of the room was where all the attention lay, save that instead of being the bottom of the room, it towered over the rest, resembling a pyramid more than anything. At the tip, a single man stood on a small square platform, his arms upraised as if he was trying to pull down the very heavens.
Despite the large amount of people crowded in one place, the entire room was deathly quiet save for the soft sound of shuffling feet and rough spun robes rubbing against each other. Rather than be compelled to cheer, the audience was held in thrall; they were too busy staring at the man in the middle to have any time for talking.
“My friends.” The man spoke. His voice reverberated through the air, getting stronger the father away from his body it travelled, rather than the reverse. “My friends, you have been with me for a long time.” Despite the grand festivities, his voice was sombre. “It has been many years since you began to support me, and since then our ranks have swelled from tens to thousands. Your support has been valuable to me in these dark times, and I shall never forget it.”
The man was old, that was plain to see. His skin was wrinkled, his long, stringy hair was a pure white, and he carried a twisted and cracked wooden cane as support for his thin arms. The crimson robe he wore looked too big on his thin body, but nonetheless he exuded an aura of grandeur that would put the most prideful politician to shame. His voice was strong and carried no signs of weakness, belying his frail appearance.
“It has indeed been a long time. For you, years, but for me and many others, centuries. You have watched the world during your lives. How it has stagnated, withered away and retreated under the ignorant attacks of humanity. Each of you feels regret at how this world has become weak, and continues to decline before your very eyes. It is sorrowful.”
“It is sorrowful.” The crowd chanted as one, echoing the old man’s words.
“We have all wept, each and every day, for the slow death of this World. We have seen the future, and it is dark. The light of humanity is fading.”
“The light of humanity is fading.”
“With each generation we become weaker. Each baby born takes from our power. Our very existence saps away at our lives until nothing shall remain of us but weak fools.” The man paused for a second to clear his throat before continuing his speech. “The older ones among you may remember the day when one spell could work wonders. When a powerful magus could conjure up mountains, oceans, and storms powerful enough to destroy entire cities. They may also remember how our magecraft began to weaken. Today the limit of our power is creating boulders, ponds, and pathetic drizzles. Magic is dying.”
“Magic is dying.”
“Tell me, friends. Are we willing to accept this?”
“No!”
“Are we going to let ourselves decline?”
“No!”
“Are we content to watch the light of humanity fading away? Are we too weak to reverse this stagnation? Is it impossible for us to bring back the glory of the days when we could work wonders?”
“No!”
“Then help me!” The man spread his arms again, reaching out not to the sky but to the people below. “Let us save this world together! Let us stop the death of Magic! We have been preparing for today for years! We are all of one mind, prepared to sacrifice everything to bring back what we truly deserve, what humanity deserves! If this world is dying, then we have found the cure!”
The crowd was murmuring now, too excited to sit still. The man paused to let his words sink in, and then unleashed the climax of his speech, the words that would end the Age of Man and usher in something far greater. His words would mark the death and rebirth of the world, the reincarnation of greatness, and the restoration of humanity.
“Together, my friends, we shall bring about a new Age of Gods!”
Several days later, in the White House...
“Mister President, we have a call from the Canadian Prime Minister for you. Would you like me to put him on hold?”
The President of the United States of America was not a happy man. He sat at his desk in the Oval Office with his head in his hands and his heart weighed down by the gruelling years of presidency that he had suffered through. Several years of being attacked on all sides by corrupt politicians, self obsessed businessmen, and people powerful enough to end his career on a whim. Not to mention having to hold together a country bleeding from dozens of different but tiny wounds. Healthcare, climate change, recession... all problems that he had to somehow address simultaneously on top of retaining enough public support to keep himself in office. Sometimes he felt less like a President and more like a circus performer, juggling way too many sharp and dangerous objects. He prayed every day that none of them would fall.
“No, I’ll speak to him now.” The President said after a moment. The last thing he wanted was one of the neighbours getting even more upset with America. “Put him on.”
The President lifted a phone to his ear and within moments the smooth voice of the Canadian Prime Minister bled through the machine. “Hello, Barack. Been a while, hasn’t it?” The connection was perfect. It was as if the man was in the Oval Office itself and not a country away.
“Yeah, it has,” The President said. He forced a smile, even though no one would see it. “How’s the country, Steve?”
“Same as always. Complaining, but fine,” The Canadian PM replied cheerfully. “Listen, I’m just calling to ask if you’ve received one of those e-mails that have been going around lately.”
“You’ll have to be more specific.” The President said wearily. “All of my addresses are getting swamped with spam constantly, even with the filters. You have no idea how many people are interested in the President’s underwear.”
The Prime Minister chuckled, but when he spoke again his voice was serious. “No, I think I know just how you feel. But I’m talking about another one. I’ve been informed from all the provinces that they’re getting calls from people saying they’ve all gotten this one e-mail. You might’ve seen it on the news.”
“Oh, that one?” The President nodded, and sat up straighter in his chair. “Yes, I’ve heard about it. All the networks are fussing about it, except FOX, of course. Some kind of new Y2K virus or new hoax delivered through e-mail? I haven’t checked mine personally yet this morning, so I’m fine.”
“That’s the one.” The Prime Minister’s firm voice hardened. “I’ve been calling up some of the other countries, and so far it seems like every single e-mail address in the world has received this e-mail, regardless of provider, company, accessibility, and filters. Every last one. And it’s been translated to the language of each country. The guys in Germany are reading the exact same thing I am.”
“So it’s just a hacker playing around, then.” The President sighed. “I don’t really see how this is important enough to call me directly about, though. We’ve both got things to do that are much more important than some stupid prank mail.”
“Have you been briefed about the contents of this ‘prank mail’?” The Prime Minister asked after a short pause.
“I’ve heard the gist of it, something about wizards and dead people. I don’t have time to read the whole thing, though-”
“Then would you do me a favour and pull it up on your laptop? I won’t ask you to read it all, just look at the first video file.”
The President suppressed a groan. The last thing he needed was to have to give up the rest of what was supposed to be his lunch break for a prank mail. But he grudgingly opened one of his laptops, and checked his e-mail. Sure enough, among countless spam mail and official memos was a single, unique message.
The path to the future shall open through your sacrifice
As far as spam went, it was remarkably coherent. The President scanned over the contents, and his eyes caught a few uncommon words and phrases in the bunch. Among the garbage was ‘materialization of a miracle’, ‘Heroic Spirits of old’, ‘your country shall receive power’, and a slightly chilling ‘the key is prana of millions’. Yep, complete nonsense, although surprisingly there hadn’t been any offers to enlarge certain parts of anatomy or promises of money from Nigerian royalty.
“Wow. This is nonsense.” The President remarked as he scanned over the rest of the writing. “Am I seriously wasting my time on this?”
“Open the attached video file.” The Prime Minister’s voice was insistent, and despite his own exasperation the President complied.
The President moved his cursor over one of the numerous attachments (was it normally even possible for an e-mail to have that many files?) and clicked. Immediately his computer downloaded a short video file, and it opened on the screen.
The first thing the President saw was a dim office. Just from a brief glance he saw dusty bookshelves, wooden furnishings, and a decidedly archaic style. No computers in sight, although several bottles full of unidentified liquids were set off to the side. In short, it resembled a mad scientist’s stereotypical lab crossed with the study room of a man two centuries in the past. Any other details were obscured by the low quality of the file.
In the center of the room stood a tall, shadowed figure, with its back to the camera.
“Hello, mister President.” Its voice was unnatural, but somehow carried a life that made it seem as if the man was speaking directly to the watcher, and not just an inanimate object. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you,” What was obviously a middle aged man continued to speak, “But despite that, we are similar, you and I. We are both human beings beset with trials of the every day.”
“Running a country is difficult, isn’t it?” He said. There was no trace of an unfamiliar accent in his voice. In fact, he spoke in a peculiar dialect of English that the President had last heard only in his childhood. “I can relate. Being in charge of a bunch of fools is never easy, especially not when they spend most of their time squabbling over petty power struggles instead of doing what truly needs to be done.”
The President found himself shivering.
“You know much.” The voice continued, “You are in a powerful position, yet even though you see the path to prosperity, the chains that bind your country to the ground prevent you from reaching out to it. Although you are thought of as all powerful, you are bound, and weaker than anyone else. It is irritating, isn’t it?”
The President nodded in agreement before he could think.
“The world is changing quickly. New scientific discoveries are changing the way you view the universe. New technology, new alliances, new human progress. In a way, the people of this world are marching forward fearlessly into the unknown, not even caring that they might be walking into their own death.”
“And even though danger and death surrounds us all, we humans can only war amongst ourselves. And even that is fading. We are slowing, with violence doing nothing, and talking doing even less, this world is stuck in its own weakness, unable to act. Enemies surround you. There are many countries that desire America’s destruction, and many of them have the abilities to bring it about thanks to their military might. The entire world could destroy itself with nuclear fire thanks to a single mistake, a single wrong move, a single misstep. It is horrifying, isn’t it?”
The President didn’t even realise that he was clutching his shoulders and shaking until the sound of his teeth chattering became as loud as the man’s voice. Why? Why was he so afraid? This was just a prank. There was no reason to take this unknown man seriously. But somehow, in the depths of his soul, the President knew that this wasn’t something he could ignore.
“Don’t worry. You are not the only one who is afraid. The world is afraid. Humanity is afraid. They fear each other, they fear the past, and they fear the future. They need leaders yet they cannot trust crooked politicians. They need faith yet the Church only grows weaker. They need someone to worship but their Gods have abandoned them. Humanity is afraid and they wish for only one thing: an impossibility.”
“A miracle. No, more specifically, a hero.”
The President’s shaking stopped. The phone dropped from his hands, and he leaned in, trying to discern more features of the man whose words could so easily pierce his heart.
The office in the video suddenly lit up with blue light that came from nowhere. Along with the light came clarity. The figure of the man became clearly outlined.
He was clad in blood red robes, and stood a head taller than an ordinary human. His greying hair fell to shoulder length, and had a wild look about it, as if it had never been combed. The man raised his large, scarred hands to the air, and bellowed.
“Behold, and carve this sight into your eyes so that one day you may replicate it!”
The video camera shook, but the President gripped the table as if it was his own office shaking.
In front of the hooded man, a glow emanated from the ground. Magical light illuminated hidden shadows, showing more of the dark office. Yet the President could only watch the man’s back as the light painted his figure.
“I am he who will become all the evils of the world. I am he who shall embody all the virtues of the world. I call you forth. Let my fate rest upon thy blade. Let my life fuel your rage.”
The glow strengthened. The President squinted. Was there another person standing in that glow?
“Now is the time for your summoning! Come forth, Guardian of the Balance!”
The glow brightened to the point where all the video showed was bright light, and then it slowly faded, allowing the President’s scorched retinas to recover.
The office was the same. Nothing had been knocked over or changed, and the man still stood in the center with his back to the camera. But a new figure was there, kneeling before the man. A dark, shadowed figure clad in shadows, unseen and only just barely heard.
The feed from the camera began to waver, and the video’s progress bar reached the last seconds.
Just before the feed cut off, the President heard the figure speak in a deep, powerful voice. “I am your Servant, and I have come forth in response to your summons. I ask of you,”
“Are you my Master?”
The video ended.
With shaking hands the President picked up the phone he had dropped earlier. “Steve... what the hell was that?” He asked. His voice was a lot less confident than he’d have liked it to be.
“We have no idea.” The Prime Minister responded cheerfully. “Well, not exactly no idea, but what we’ve found out only deepens the mystery. Just by watching that video you should know that this is no average spam, but it gets even crazier than that.”
“That was some nice CGI.” The President mused. “But that video was almost personally tailored to me. This guy... it’s as if he knows what I’m thinking.” He frowned. “Is the true goal of this to get me to take this seriously? Because I think I know a few people who might want that to happen.”
“No, that wasn’t just for you.” The Prime Minister said. “My video was also personally tailored to me. The man even called me by name. From the reports I’m getting, the contents of each video are different depending on who received it. It hasn’t been confirmed, but we believe that each and every person in the world will receive a completely different video.”
“That’s crazy. Whoever did this must have spent months just filming different messages.” The President said. “Do you have any idea who came up with this joke?”
“No. We’ve discovered a few things, but none of our hackers can come close to tracing the mail. There’s no address it’s sent from, and we can’t even identify the man in the center, let alone whoever showed up near the end. Somehow, this guy is untraceable.”
“What else do you know?”
“I’ve brought in some experts, and from what they tell me this doesn’t seem like it was computer generated. Those special effects aren’t actually edited in.” The Prime Minister’s voice was remarkably cheerful despite the curious topic of the conversation.
“So they did it the old fashioned way with smoke and mirrors. Don’t tell me you believe this is real?” The President asked sceptically.
“No, no, of course not!” The Prime Minister chuckled. “I’ll admit it got a laugh out of me though. Have you read through the rest of this stuff? It’s actually pretty good. I can see someone writing a few novels using a premise like this.”
“It’s absolutely preposterous.” The President agreed as he looked over the rest of the files. “Let’s see here... wow, that’s one hell of a ‘summoning circle’. The church guys would be all over this. And ‘the fuel for the summoning is prana gathered from the country’s inhabitants’? Now that is just crazy.”
“Yeah, well, apparently you need a lot of this ‘prana’ stuff to achieve the ‘miracle’ this guy’s talking about.” The Prime Minister laughed. “I gotta say though, I’m sure none of your citizens would object if you wanted to use their magical juices to summon Washington or Lincoln.”
“Ugh. That’s the last thing I need, more competition.” The President muttered. “Well, it was good for a laugh, Steve. Thanks for calling me up just to tell me about this.”
“I just thought you’d like to know this from me instead of the bunch of crazy conspiracy theorists who are no doubt going to be flooding our offices this evening.” The Prime Minister said, still unnaturally cheerful. “Anyway, you’re not going to have anyone actually try the stuff on here, are you?”
“Hell no.” The President responded instantly. “The last thing I need is even more ammo for my opponents. ‘The President relies on mystic pagan arts!’ The headlines would eat it up, and I’d be ruined. And on the off chance that this ritual nonsense works, I’d have to contend with a dead guy answering all my wishes. That’s one ‘miracle’ I can do without.”
“Heh, nice one.” Even though they couldn’t see each other, the President imagined the Prime Minister nodding sagely on the other side of the line. “Yeah, that’s pretty much everyone’s response to this thing. It’s probably going to cause a few news reports, then fade into obscurity when the next big thing shows up.”
“Let’s just hope there’s no one stupid enough to actually try it...”
Meanwhile, in North Korea
“Are you sure this will work?” The beady eyed man in a military uniform eyed the complex summoning circle on the ground like it was a land mine. “I do not believe everything I read on the Internet.”
“It will most definitely work, Master!” Another man, still impeccably dressed, bowed and scraped before his superior. “I have had confirmation from a secret source! This is a legitimate way to bring back the dead!”
“Bring back the dead...” The first man shuddered at the thought. “Such a thought is frightening, but if it returns Father to us then we much go forward regardless.”
“Indeed. The Glorious Supreme Leader will be just what we need to finally bring this country under our control!” The grovelling man said. “All the preparations are complete. According to the instructions we must bind the summoned to a ‘Master’, so we have chosen you. All you must do is speak the attached words and provide a sacrifice of blood.”
“Father is no one’s Servant.” The Supreme Ruler snapped. But he still retrieved a small knife from his pocket and slashed open the tip of his finger. A single drop of blood fell to the ritual circle.
“Excellent work, Your Majesty, now simply recite this poem and your father will grace us with his presence once more.” He handed his superior a small sheet of paper no larger than a playing card.
Said superior took the sheet and squinted at the miniscule words that were etched onto the page. “Glasses!” He shrieked with an accompanied snap of his fingers. The other man nearly fell over himself trying to hand his superior the glasses that he always carried in a small pouch on his belt.
The supreme ruler of North Korea angrily snatched the glasses away from his incompetent underling. He looked upon the pen marks that had now smudged on the page once more and he began to recite the paper’s contents over the now lightly glowing rune on the floor.
The circle exploded.
Light and wind propelled the two men backwards, sending them flying into the arms of the battalion of soldiers waiting nearby. The Ruler of North Korea was only kept up by the strong hands of his men, but his advisor was too small and slipped through, screaming even as his face landed in soft dirt.
The localized hurricane ended abruptly, leaving the soldiers yelling and pointing their rifles at a cloud of dust where the circle had once been. None of them fired, but the tension skyrocketed.
200 trained soldiers. That was how many people bore witness to the spectacle that was the Second Summoning, besides the spectacled man and his former advisor. Each one of them had been briefed and was prepared for anything, be it absolutely nothing or an enemy trap.
“Prostrate yourselves before me.”
The one thing that they had not been prepared for, however, was the glorious voice of a physical god. Their true Supreme Leader who had died only a short time earlier.
The smoke vanished as 400 knees struck the ground in sync. The soldiers bowed, dropping their weapons instantly and touching their heads to the ground. It was not a conscious choice, but simply the culmination of several years of training and faith. To them, this newcomer was less a man and more a divine being.
“My son.” The man who had been summoned in the ritual circle was a familiar face, but completely different from how the spectacled man remembered it. Gone were the age, the weakness, and the clouded eyes. This was no longer the father he had known, but the father he had learned about.
“Have you prepared for my return?” He asked.
The former Leader stumbled to his feet, and gulped. “Y-yes, father. We were hoping for a miracle... but your presence alone is beyond anything I ever imagined.”
“That is because your imagination is weak, as is that of this world.” The man grinned. His uniform was almost identical to his son’s, but somehow many hundred times more glorious. He stood taller than his soldiers, a specimen of humanity’s best. No, he was beyond human. “This is me as my true self. The tales you did not believe have infused my very essence with divine power. The belief of my people has brought me strength.”
“The stories...”
“Are true. Each and every one. Or rather, they have become true. The heavens wept at my death, and now they shall rejoice at my return, as shall my country. Rise, we must go now to finish what I should have done before my death.” The tall man raised his arm to the sky and his soldiers stumbled to their feet. They saluted, tears running down their faces. The advisor had lost consciousness, but the once Supreme Ruler stood before his father and cried.
“This land shall be whole once more! The monsters in the South will be crushed before my might! Prepare yourselves!” Blinding wings of light sprung from the restored Kim Jong Il’s back, and he took to the air.
His voice echoed throughout North Korea, and his citizens heard it.
And they worshipped their Supreme Leader.
“Tonight we march!”
The next day
The President’s eyes were bleary as he was dragged into one of the White House’s numerous conference rooms. Normally he’d have protested being forced out of bed at such an early hour, but upon seeing almost every single important member of his government there, he snapped awake.
“What’s happened?” He asked. “Has the economy crashed? Did someone leak any more of our classified info? Don’t tell me the situation in the Middle East has flared up again.”
“It’s North Korea.” His Vice President was the first to speak. “They’ve commenced large scale hostilities against South Korea.”
“Dammit.” The President wasn’t one to curse, but the situation warranted it. “I thought the new guy was supposed to be a more peaceful sort than the last one. What’s the situation?”
“Pretty bad.” The Secretary of Defense said grimly. “The capital of South Korea’s been ravaged. Thousands dead, up to millions perhaps. We’re still getting reports of the death toll.”
“The Government?”
“The entire party’s dead. Almost all the leaders are gone, and the Parliament building has been wiped off the face of the Earth. We can’t get in touch with anyone who has any sort of power. The only silver lining is that they haven’t pulled out nukes yet.”
The President groaned. “Well, there goes any hope I have of a good night’s sleep in the next few months.” He rubbed his sleepy eyes and spoke again. “Alright, what are we doing about this?”
“Normally I’d suggest immediate retaliation and moving to support South Korea, but there’s something you should see first.” The Vice President said as he connected a laptop to the projector of the conference room.
A scene of destruction appeared on the screen. A frozen image of a city in the midst of ruin coloured the eyes of the Government. It was recognizable as South Korea’s capital, but beyond that, the most obvious thing was the fact that it was only a paused snapshot of a longer video.
“There have been quite a few amateur videos of the attack.” The Vice President explained. “Several have been uploaded to the internet, and quite a few were sent directly to us. The contents of these videos are all consistent, but... rather fantastical.”
“Just play it.” The Secretary of Defence snapped.
The Vice President nodded, and pressed a key on his laptop.
What followed was a minute of badly shot, unbelievable fantasy.
The video panned over people fleeing and screaming, along with buildings falling. There were several cars zooming by, making it obvious that the person filming was on a sidewalk somewhere.
There was not even a glimpse of any attackers or bombs until halfway through the video.
At the halfway mark, the video panned upwards, showing a grey sky full of helicopters and planes screaming throughout the air. However, the marks on their sides signified each one as belonging to South Korea rather than its Northern cousin.
Each one pointed its armaments at a single point in the sky.
Floating above the city on two glowing wings of light was the tiny form of what was unmistakeably a human being. The camera zoomed in, but the grainy figure was too far away to get a clear image of. It was powerful enough, however, to capture the figure’s next actions clearly.
The human with wings raised a blurry arm, and swiped it across its chest as if sprinkling a handful of water.
Instantly, all the helicopters and planes in front of it exploded from within, screaming as they fell to the ground like stones. Without even a glimpse of any weaponry, half the machines in the sky had fallen.
The ones behind the figure opened fire, launching volleys of missiles and machine gun fire. Several hundred pounds of heavy ordinance shot towards the floating shape, each one easily able to obliterate a human body without pausing.
The man was enveloped in a several second long explosion, and hidden from the camera’s view as the projectiles impacted. The targeting of the South Korean army had been perfect. No man made craft could survive such power.
However, this person was obviously not manmade. After several seconds, the shaky video showed the man still floating in the air, completely unharmed by the volley of death. All of the weapons had been futile.
The people in the room watched silently as the video blurred, the person making it finally losing any remaining bravery and running for his life along with the rest of his countrymen. The last clear shot they got before the video cut off was the sight of a several story tall apartment building slowly sliding apart as something thin and infinitely sharp sliced it in two.
The video ended.
No one spoke as the Secretary of Defense pulled up another folder, this one full of pictures. He played through a slideshow of ruin, death, and destruction. Finally, the last photograph was one of the figure floating in the air. It had been taken with remarkable clarity, possibly being a one in a million shot. But what was made perfectly clear was what the mysterious figure looked like.
The almost unrecognizable, young body of Kim Jong Il, North Korea’s previous ruler.
“The following has been confirmed by a number of other sources, as well as two of our satellites that were in orbit at the time.” The Secretary of Defence quickly said. “It’s all completely real.”
The President took off his reading glasses that no one knows about.
“Gentlemen,” He said, completely serious. “This video tells me one of three things. First that it’s actually the first of April, and you guys are playing possibly the most dangerous prank in the world. Second, that North Korea has either finally learned to use video editing programs or they’ve developed a robot death machine using technology light years ahead of our own, and finally, that they’ve somehow brought Kim Jong fucking Il back to life as a super powered city destroying ghost.”
“Either way, I am not happy about this.” He said in the kind of voice that would lead a nation to elect him. The others in the room shuffled their feet.
“It’s early summer, Mister President,” One of the younger members whose name the President didn’t remember piped up. “The students just got out of school a few days ago.”
“We’ve checked with our moles in the North Korean government,” Another one said. “No budget has been allocated to any robots, and they remain ignorant of how to use even the basic functions of Photoshop, Movie Maker, or even send a proper email.”
The President blinked.
“Wait a second,” He pointed to the Vice President. “Joe, check your email. Do you remember that big thing everyone received yesterday?”
The Vice President twitched. “Huh? You don’t mean that prank mail?”
“That’s exactly what I mean, people,” The President said firmly. “We have just witnessed living proof that it’s possible to bring back the dead.”
The door to the meeting room burst open. A young intern rushed into the room, panting from exhaustion. He carried a file under his arm. “Sorry for interrupting!” He yelped. “There’s another situation you guys need to know about!”
“What is it?” The President asked wearily.
“Greece!” The man said. He fumbled and opened the file, throwing two dozen pictures onto the large table in the middle of the room. “It’s in chaos! There have been hundreds of deaths all over! The death toll is rising as we speak!”
“Who’s attacking?” The Vice President growled.
The intern gulped and took a few steps towards the exit. “N-no one, sir.” He stammered. “People are just dropping dead. It’s mostly the old and sickly, but the younger people are collapsing as well. There’s been no confirmed reason, but it just started a few minutes ago.”
The President slammed his fist onto the table, causing half the room to jump. They looked at him, and several shuffled their feet or looked away. It was rare to see the President, a normally serious but mild mannered man, actually angry.
“This is connected to that e-mail,” He said. “I just know it. Joe, have a team of experts analyse the entire thing. I want detailed information and summaries in two hours.”
The Vice President quickly nodded.
“Meanwhile, have someone investigate what’s going on in Greece. I have a feeling that it’s going to get much busier there than it is right now.” The President continued. “If this is connected to what happened in Korea...”
“Millions dead.” The intern gasped.
The President sighed, and took a seat again. He put on his secret reading glasses, and tented his hands in front of his face. His expression was unreadable, but his next words weren’t.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a problem.”
Meanwhile, several continents away in a hidden meeting room...
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a problem.”
The Head of the Mage’s Association was not happy. In fact, she was in a downright foul mood. Her few friends and most of her associates knew well that when the Head got angry, people tended to spontaneously explode, and thus most had different varieties of passive shield spells raised in case they provoked her wrath or were unlucky enough to be in the crossfire. Nevertheless, the Head was not happy.
“I’ve just received word from our moles in the various major governments of the world, that every single person on Earth has received a message containing top secret details about the Servant summoning ritual in the Holy Grail War,” She said evenly, each word brimming with barely restrained fury. “In addition to that, an apparently deceased North Korean leader has somehow been summoned as a Heroic Spirit and just levelled half of the South Korean capital.”
“Don’t you mean Servant?” One of the younger mages standing in the meeting room asked. He was promptly subjected to a miniature detonation inches from his face, and was blasted to the ground, screaming.
“No,” The Head said. “I mean Heroic Spirit. Somehow a few ordinary humans managed to summon, without the aid of a Grail or even any knowledge of magecraft, a real, genuine Heroic Spirit, and one of a modern human with no previous magical powers at that.”
“By all rights, that shouldn’t even be possible,” One of the older mages said this time, a man with long dark hair and a cigar clamped between his fingers. A slight ringing sound echoed through the chamber as his invisible shield absorbed an explosion, and he took his continued survival as an approval from the Head to continue speaking. “We’ve already proven that it’s impossible for anyone after the 1800s to become a Heroic Spirit, and the one in question lived recently, as well as having no powers.”
“Get on with it.” The Head growled.
“Of course.” The man nodded, and the air in front of him rang again. A bead of sweat appeared on his head, but otherwise he was unmoved.
“There are four supposedly ‘impossible’ things that have occurred yesterday, leaving aside the matter of this worldwide message. First, a Heroic Spirit from this timeframe was summoned. Second, that Heroic Spirit displayed power that he was nowhere near having during his lifetime. Third, all this occurred without the aid of a Grail, something that is needed to summon any Servants so far. And finally, the summoned being was not placed into a Servant container, something I believe is less ‘impossible’ and more ‘unheard of’. It’s probably connected with the third point and lack of grail to place it in a container during summoning.”
“Acceptable.” The Head nodded. “Since you’ve taken the time to analyse the summoned being, you’re in charge of figuring it out. Talk with me later to decide who’ll be on your team. In the mean time,” She clenched her fist, and the soot stained mage who was trying to get up was blasted again, this time only managing a frightened yelp before being knocked back to the ground. “Someone tell me...”
“Who the hell is responsible for this!?”
Around the world…
“Oh, so I’m back?” The tall man patted his body, delighted to finally be in human form once more. “And if I’m back…” He grinned, and his crimson eyes flared up. “That means there’s going to be plenty of strong warriors coming back too!” A red lance materialized in his hands, and he leaped out of the collapsed cave he had been summoned into, eager to do battle once more.
A muscular, powerful young man in bronze armour grunted as he yanked his spear from the body of a similarly dressed warrior. “Typical.” He said as he shook the blood from his weapon. “I give him a few thousand years to improve, yet he’s just as weak as before. Well, since I died young, I guess the most I can look forward to now is even more opportunities to etch my name into the halls of History before I bite the dust again.”
“Ooh… these humans have multiplied!” A curvaceous woman clothed in several gaudy cloths giggled with delight as the many poor, hungry people surrounding her sank to their knees in reverence, acknowledging her otherworldly beauty. “They’ve gotten a bit weaker… but I always preferred quantity over quality. It gives such chances to find a true gem in this endless sea of stones!”
“Ah… I should not be here.” The petite blond girl collapsed to her knees, suddenly unable to bear the weight of her heavy armour. “What happened to Avalon? Why?” She looked up and was greeted by a grassy plain studded with trees, as well as several figures in armour arranged in a semicircle before her. Once more, the Round Table had gathered to acknowledge her as their King.
“Wow. I thought that thing had me for sure, but it turns out this world is just full of second chances!” An energetic man grinned as he dragged himself out of the ocean and onto dry land. “Well, I’m not gonna waste it!” He shook his head, scattering water from his dirty blond hair. “There are plenty of things I still have to finish, and I’m not gonna bite the dust again until they’re done!”
“It has come.” A frail old man clutched his wooden staff tightly, holding on to it as if it would save him. Although the deck of the massive boat rocked underneath him, he had no trouble keeping his balance. “The Apocalypse is here. The time for humanity’s rise and fall! I have to prepare!” He threw aside the staff and rushed inside the wooden ship, greeted by the cries of countless beasts.
“Oh? The world has changed much in my absence.” The man in golden armour strode tirelessly through the empty desert. Despite the heavy sun he wasn’t even winded, having already surpassed mortal weaknesses. “But I am disappointed. This space would look much better with a few more cities, rivers, lakes…” As he spoke, ancient weapons and tools appeared from thin air and went to work, building a new city for the King of Heroes to rule without the aid of any humans.
Gilgamesh smiled as he watched a golden city rise from the sands of the Sahara Desert.
“Excellent,” He nodded. “Now for the rest of this pathetic world.”
End of Prologue
Pass the Horizon
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So yeah. I've been doing some stuff other than swimming and running around during this little vacation, and this is a fic idea I came up with during my time without the Internet to sap away my creativity, when I was supposed to be updating LGS instead. Le gasp!
Anyway, some feedback would be nice! This is meant to be a part of a larger story, and I haven't even introduced the main character yet!
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Originally Posted by Seika
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