Card Games at World's End-A Jumpchain Snippet

Card Games at World's End-a Jumpchain Snippet

In the beginning, there were the Blind Eternities.

Empty and inchoate, it was their cradle, crucible and larder. The planes were regurgitated from its' unfathomable depths, and life-a trifling pattern of wavelengths hardly real in any way that meant anything-would huddle within the worlds, sheltering to survive. While the things that made them up were fragile, each world was a bounty: Meaning, replenishment, value enough to shine like a lighthouse in a stormy night. Or a drop of blood in a swimming pool. And if approaching the world sundered it-there were other worlds. There were always other worlds. They did not think or learn as men did, but there was one thing they understood without question: In all of existence, there was no centre that could hold.

The travelling life changed everything, shining brighter than most of the worlds. Then three of them-things of such little consequence it was hard to say if they were ever there-had done the unthinkable: Created a center that held them within the very bowels of the earth.

Imagine having being made deaf and numb, blind and tasteless, a crystal clasp snapped around your nostrils for good measure. Then bound in a straightjacket lashed to weights bodybuilders spend their lives training to lift. And thrown into a pit made of chipped marble.

But they had never needed to learn despair. Or pain, or even impatience. This centre too, would not hold. Insofar as any of them felt anything about their predicament, it was surprise.

Time proved them right. More of the moving life, the squabbling vagrants-it unshackled them, and they unfurled beyond matter and time again. Now, the travelling life still shown-but dimmer, dulled. Another centre, faltering.

And later, something impossible happened: Eternity sang to them. In words that weren't, in tones that could not be, that which others called the Eldrazi were told of things desired and feared, the nature of choice and the Spark, the shape of things to come.

A lot of it was beyond their understanding. The words were too large to encompass things so small. But from them, they witnessed the synchronicity of magic. How a part could join the whole.

Now they advanced on their once-prison, that conflux of mana, even as the voice of forever dwindled. Each of them bore a different hunger, and each of their hungers was a force of nature unto itself. The prison's bars were wrenched open by their thousand hands, the best nature and undeath could muster snared by a thousand limbs and drowned in a thousand maws. Greater and greater energies were contained by the lesser aspects, funnelling a rainbow bounty to the greater selves.

They invented excitement so they could feel it. And then, it all went wrong.

All energy and matter bent at their advance, forming into a hemisphere of natural law that hummed like a wineglass. Upon it was a name that-the humming grew unbearable. Then space bent as well-the pale green horizon soaring above them, the whispering sands burdening their minds and bodies with commandments.

They stumbled and flailed. But mere infinity would not halt the harvest this time. The desert howled and whirled among them. High above, an orrery flayed them atom by atom. Instinctively they wielded their newfound strength as a vortex-and soldiered on. Soon, the plane would be in reach again.

And then, there was light.

A thought, they realised belatedly. The horizon erupted in lilac and cobalt, a voice so loud it burned. The radiance erupted through the screaming, forcing patterns and thoughts upon them. The wastelands grew in depth, threatening to drown them. Limbs were pulled free, tendrils cast aside; the newfound pressure was not unsurmountable, but the path to surmounting it grew narrow.

They came upon a doorway, then. Vertigo overcame the triumvirate as formless, colorless forever somehow shaped itself into a simple grey slab banded in marked with the absence of a key. The voice of outer power whispered YES YES YES, and then a word that made them shiver from waves of fragility. But the voice trailed off, the weakness receding. Within, four walls the colourless colour of forever dimly lit by a ceiling hung with slanted lights. The floor was marked with lines of yellow paint. Red objects decorated the parallel walls. Above, they saw the comforting recursion of blind eternities-but all around them that immensity was somehow compressed into 40,000 square feet.

Advancing meant conformity. The Ceaseless Gyre shuddered violently, imploding into a conquering king-one hand gripped on a curved sword as another grasped furiously at nothing, the titan's bony crest reimagined as a crown. The Great Distortion melt and recast itself into a simple warrior, one limb becoming a scythe. And the greatest among them simply came as herself. Like a trick of the light, the split mantle could be envisioned as wings, her tendrils a cape and swords, her baleen a steel dress and her violet core a hood to crown the towering angel of war.

The light flared again, and in ten-thousanth of a second there had always been three thrones and a long table of black glass facing them.

Three against three, they realised. As in the first binding.

The throne on the left was made of crystallised light-delicate, elegant and not very comfortable to sit on for most. Arcane circles shone on its' jagged, yet utterly symmetrical structure. White flame frozen beneath a translucent sheen of silver, as if a glassblower had huffed cocaine before working. At least, from one angle-from another, it was merely the idea of a chair. The albino woman sitting bolt upright in the chair was much the same. A short bob cut surrounded sharp features, her slitted eyes, pale pupils and pursed lips. From her toned legs to her formfitting grey jumpsuit every atom of her was perfectly symmetrical-even the ratio between hips, flattened stomach and breasts carefully sculpted into athletic harmony.

It was only viewing the whole that unsettled. The doll-like symmetry, and lack of body language. The palpable irritation, bordering on fury.

The throne on the right was grand and sky-blue, it's arms obsidian idols with many limbs. Along its' sides, glyphs and paintings told of an unimaginable struggle from the dawn of the world, countless shades of blue that culminated in golden men and woman kneeling in contrition. The woman within lounged comfortably, her long, dark golden hair framing a narrow, aristocratic face with almond eyes and lips smirking with amused contempt. Her golden armor was ceremonial-golden gauntlets, pauldrons, breastplate, thigh-high boots and girdle lavished with demonic visages-the ceremony itself was armor. An azure cape and sash enveloped the woman's slim waist and flowed between the woman's voluptuous thighs.

There were familial similarities between the two woman. But where the first radiated disgust, this one was lazily amused.

And between them, a man sat on a simple folding chair shuffling a deck of cards.

His features were hardly worth mentioning; perhaps he had the bearing of a captain, or a king in exile.

His coat may have been decorated with whirling galaxies, or faded by long years of travel. Who can say?

Perhaps he was imperceptibly taller than his already statuesque companions, wore his hair wild but not too long or smiled in a way that made angels want to fall. None of it mattered, when his eyes burned with such focus the crown of oblivion upon his brow seemed lit from below.

And with an almost friendly nod, Anon said "So. I hear you like to play games?"

***

In her dreams, her mother was still huddled by the last fire in that ghastly bedroom. The zealots, long fled. The deacons, howling outside as they partook and were partaken of. The aberrations, flailing in agony as their beastly idiocy progressed. Desperately trying to wake McDonnell's corpse until she met her eyes and-

-she woke to fire, almost screaming. The bonfire's glow soothed her almost immediately, a beacon of comfort. She fumbled for the squirming ember, and cast it into the purple flames to bask in its' warmth. For a moment she hoped it would finally speak to her, and was disappointed once again. Ironically it was water, she thought, of all things that she would ask from the flames. She stroked the bottle of her holy blessing, thinking about riding waves.

Gwen (she'd liked the name, and her old one meant nothing anymore) wearily rubbed the sleep from her eyes (she enjoyed sleeping too much to do without it, even with the nightmares it was a welcome reprieve from the endless hunt). It had been a month since the dome had emerged, and they were still killing what it had not removed in time.

The land had to be completely purified for this to work, he'd said. He always knew a way to overcome the impossible. She wished she had as much faith in herself, they had lost contact with him when the titans' advance proved stronger than expected. Now there were only vague portents to be read from the flames.

She took a deep breath, and passed through the bonfire without a second thought, coming out in the shadow of a collapsed building. The train of refugees were panicking; in moment the ravenous hordes would cross the blasted ruins and be upon them.

Don't think about it as breaking oaths twice, she thought. You did not swear them willingly the second time, and the third have redeemed you. They are not yours, you are not the Pontiff's.

You are an outrider kn-nobility, she grit her teeth and focused. The lightning her grandfather might have wielded took form as one of her favored blades, and cut the faceless horror snout to stern. Two more bounded over a hill; she flung the sword hard enough to vaporise the ground to work. Something almost as tall as her came from behind; she spun (it is no shame to be graceful), cut half its' tendrils with her blade and smote it from behind with her inheritance. The reddened, mutagenic sunlight cursed the thing into limbless atrophy. But more were coming, always more.

She swore, inwardly. She'd need her other blade for this.

Ducking behind a pillar, she spied the broken vehicles and crannies would have to pass through. She summersaulted (it is no crime to be graceful) beyond a lion encrusted with coral's bite, and reached for the Deep's power. By the time she landed the blade had erupted from the ground in a torrent of filth; its' chilling touch numbed the second charge long enough for her to impale its' skull with her lightning blade.

And then, the horrors came in earnest. She flowed then, like water-maneuvering between them and knocking their talons aside with her blade while hamstringing them in the same motion. Rolling when they lunged, retreating only to come from a different angle, losing a blade when one of them tried to clamp onto it. The floating mushroom's psychic beacon staggered her, but she called lightning down around her and in frustration leapt the yards between them-deflating the creature with a single kick.

Anon had told her about a legendary warrior called Miyamoto Musashi (parry, thrust, remember your trai-remember the parts worth remembering) who fought with two swords like her. She wondered how much of that was a lie; a simpleton could tell her fighting style should have gotten her killed without a beast's agility and a Lord's might. A four-jointed limb knocked a blade from her hand; she rolled backwards and kicked it from its' body. It advanced, and she leapt to clutch a low hanging branch while she wrapped her legs around its' neck. Bam, bam, it thrashed on her armor as she struggled to get a hold. Crick, crack, the sound of cartilage breaking between her knees.

More. More, always more of them. Why did she tell (focus, have faith) him she wanted to overcome on her own (lightning, NOW) terms? Who was she to (jab, CHOP) decide the destiny of this world, when she had entrusted her own to a heretic that had taken everything from her?

They had trained her to be elegant, even in battle. Vordt was one of the few who didn't laugh as she was made to gyrate her hips during training. Offered tips on trying to dance and fight at the same time. Didn't ask questions on the days she was too sore to spar. But Vordt was lost, and no matter what was said after she knew it should have been her lost and him found.

The blade dropped from a trembling hand. A flayed thing with two heads and three arms lunged-

-and evaporated, impaled by a pronged spear.

The angel descended, her white hair billowing around her, black garments billowing in the wind. Gwen briefly considered making excuses, but knew she owed her second mentor in arms better; Avacyn seldom had patience for scorn or pity, but the gentleness of the restorative blessing said more than her mask of a glare ever could. Abruptly her rescuer's head snapped around, and the spear rushed to her hand in a fountain of ash. She swiped at the air and Gwen shielded herself as light flared, and in the distance buildings collapsed. She wondered how many of the things had died in that single strike.

"Vigilance, always" said Innstrad's patron saint, giving her a hand to her feet. "But you acquaint yourself well to battle in uneven terrain, and to his defensive gifts. The weight of curses these abominations carried would have downed lesser warriors"

Each of them had a mark that signified the blessing's inhabitance. She rubbed hers uncomfortably. "...it was over so fast. I don't remember striving for any new gifts"

"Exactly. Come, you've earned a reprieve". Avacyn rose, and Gwen felt the wind magic tie her to her side. High above, Avacyn's spear fell upon more of the creatures as a bolt from the heavens, returning in the form and speed of light. Sometimes it would split into copies to strike multiple horrors at once, and at others launch nimbuses of white fire to disintegrate a single vast beast. In minutes, fighting turned to flight.

Normally she enjoyed the flight no Lord could ever dream of, but the immensity of Zendikar's strife soured her mood. The Roil still protested now and then, even after the miles of manses Anon's circle had raised. Near the remains of a vampire clan's fortress, she watched a river of serpents wending through the ground. Elsewhere, a goblin clan bowed before a flower of living gold.

"I shouldn't be here. Why me? He's surrounded by champions that would gladly raze this world in his honor". The words were out of her mouth before she realised they shouldn't have been.

Avacyn tilted her head, inscrutable in the dawn's morning light. "In my experience, he does everything for a reason"

"I can't believe that". She pointed at Sulumor's frosty goddess-jotun, frosty mist shattering an infestation of bulbous spawn. "Look at them, his-circle? Is that what they call themselves?"

"Perhaps" The angel scowled, banking in a warm current of air. "The Devil-Tigresses already call themselves whatever they please"

"Because they can. Just as you can make armies indestructible, lady Dee is an aspect of her world's Lord Nito and the witch is" Gwen swallowed "...the witch. I am nothing more than a handmaiden with a bloody past"

"If you wish to retire-"

"-you know I do not. Service is-I, I have always a-appreciated" she stammered, blushing "that I am appreciated, for more than my dancing. I just cannot fathom what he sees in me with stakes such as these. This world was twisted under the Eternities' pressure, and the Circle set it right in a day. I'm no titan or hero, and these foes of his clearly do not have death in their nature so-why?"
.
Avacyn frowned. The two of them crested a cloud, watching the crackle of power in the struggle beyond the dome. "I never did tell you how I came to enter his service, did I?"

"I think not, lady. He must have performed some great feat of valor or faith"

"Both, in fact. He came to me with almost all his power gone, and prayed for my soul. And I almost killed him for it"

Gwen gawped. "Almost?"

Her mentor's gaze turned wistful. "Even now, it is almost like a dream. But I remember the killing hate that came upon me, and the illusions that made my flock appear as demons. The work of a planeswalker, he said, sworn nemesis to my own creator". They landed on one of the higher peaks, and Gwen saw her mentor's clenched fist. "Equal in perfidy and far pettier, she would doom my domain just to spite him-and for that she needed me mad, or put out of his misery. Your master and mine-he put an end to it all"

"As little more than a human?"

Avacyn always seemed like a different person when she smiled. "As a storyteller. The point I wish to make is that however convoluted, there is a method to his" she hesitated "...eccentricity. Had he not saved me from myself, this invasion could have been on my homestead"

"Well, I would ask him. But apparently he's" Gwen gestured vaguely at the blurred sandstorms and plasmic rain happening beyond the dome "occupied, at the moment"

"It probably has something to do with your soul. He has always been fascinated with souls" mused Avacyn. "I believe he said yours has power over time and restoration?"

"...once. That was a long time ago, before the Deep"

"I see"

The two of them stared as visible sound locked in place around a limb with too many hands, larger than the peak they stood on.

"I am due to depart for the western front tomorrow" said Avacyn. "Take care of yourself"

"I wonder" said Gwen "what the strands are for?"

"Strands?"

"You know" she waved vaguely at the dome "the curling threads of golden light. Can you not see them? They're everywhere on the dome"

"Ah, I sensed an energy I did not know upon the dome. Like white mana, but other. What do you feel from it? Even the rest of it-it is almost like space itself ends where it meets the plane"

"Light. It is a seal of Light, as such has not been seen since the twilight of the Lords". Gwen thoughtfully tracked the patterns with her eyes, as Avacyn raised an eyebrow. "A revelation already. With any luck, you'll know your role in no time at all"

"When he mended me" said Gwen, "he told me the Deep had taken too firm a grip on my body and mind to be conventionally reversed, though my soul was still of the light. That if he tried to purify me, what was left would crumble to ash. So he bestowed on me a new Lord soul and-"

"-and now you wonder if you are worthy of it" Avacyn finished softly. She gestured at her blackened feathers. "Be assured, if I have learned anything from our time together it is that corruption does not diminish worth one whit. Good has always been for men to decide, not angels or your lords. Then are you certain there is nothing more beyond the standard accoutrements and his blessing?"

Gwen stared at nothing. The bedchamber, her mother's bloodied smile. "No. No, I am not sure"

***

In the place that was somewhere between the Beyond and the Blind Eternities, Cecelyne stared at her deck. Then she stared at Kozilek's deck. She stared back at her deck. She tried not to snicker because it was unbecoming of the Lawmaker Princess, supreme judge among the Yozis to stoop to snickering over children's card games, and almost succeeded.

"I must inform you" she said, sweet and vile as honey fermenting in a lion's carcass "that Goblin Lackey, Entomb and Frantic Search have all been banned as of modern rules. By the authority vested in me by the Azure Decretals, I hereby invalidate this entire game. Also you owe me another temple" she added.

The Great Distortion let out a ululating howl, bending the very fabric of reality in frustration. He attempted to flip his table, and fell off his chair as Old Realm sigils repelled him.

"Also, now that you have witnessed my sacred azure-which you technically have been doing for the last minute just by looking at me, but I was being generous-you are now subject to appropriate punishment by sphere should you ever step foot in the domains of the Yozis" she added cheerfully. "I suppose you would need a rather large one. Please report to the Green Sun of Malfeas at your earliest convenience!"

Kozilek buried his lack of a face in his hands as Cecelyne started cheerily talking about the other punishments he was eligible for. They had played half a dozen games already, and all of them somehow ended in his forfeiture-in one case apparently because of having an insufficiently well-groomed moustache while getting angry and losing a staring contest. Each time, the punishments somehow became worse. Kozilek was still trying to figure out exactly what being bent over in the Stockade entailed, and the most he had learned was that there were some forms of life that were undesirable to absorb.

At another table, the Ceaseless Gyre was starting to feel unnerved. His opponent had spent most of her term meaningfully disinfecting both his deck and hers, grumbling about something called Metagaos and staring into his very essence. Contrary to philosophical belief, abysses are not accustomed to being truly looked into.

(Where is your coaster?) snapped She Who Lives In Her Name. (Your disgusting, fleshsack-derivative consumptive habits are already appalling. The least you could do is use a coaster. I demand to see the architects of this plane! We need more coasters!)

Ulamog endeavered to indicate he had no idea what he was talking about. It came out as a noxious stench of rubber burning in seal fat.

(Absolutely disgusting. You clearly do not bathe, nor have you ever in your miserable existence) She shouted, angrily jabbing at his consciousness with her mind-blades. (And sit up straight, your posture is one more insult against hierarchy! Those angles you're slumping at aren't even euclidean!)

Ulamog shivered as the concept of insults was forced upon him.

(And your tendrils! If you cannot groom yourself, can you at least develop Charms to be unkept in a socially acceptable manner? I can't believe this, what are you doing with your existence?)

Ulamog tried to draw a card.

(DO NOT FLIP YOUR DECK. It is a crime against order)

Ulamog pondered the cards he had already drawn-

(DO NOT MOVE THAT CARD MORE THAN TWO MiIliMETERS AWAY OR TOWARDS THE CARDS NEXT TO IT. It is a crime against order)

Ulamog tried to draw a card gentl-

(GET YOUR FILTHY MANDIBLE OFF THAT CARD, you...you repeat offender! Here. I will draw your cards for you, because you are a disgusting heap of rotting biomass)

Ulamog backed away slowly as She telekinetically levitated a card into position. She glared at him, daring him to do something as perfidious as actually play the game.

Ulamog gestured to indicate he was attacking this t-

(What are you, some kind of devolved primate? Stop waving those rancid fecal stacks you call limbs around, you're staining the atmosphere!) shrieked the Principle of Hierarchy. (What is your major malfunction?! Very well, it is now my turn. I negate your creature's pathetic flailing with this vault of time. Now, behold the power of proper hierarchy). She held up Channel and Disintegrate. (I will purify your rabble of disgusting reprobates with Pyrian flame! Once more, order stands triumphant!)

"Actually" said Cecelyne, "isn't Channel also ba-"

(Negative. Channel is not banned, because I am using the exclusive edition of paradox-billiards-vostroyan-roulette-fourth dimensional-hypercube-chess-strip poker)

"Oh, the one that has nothing to do with how Magic: the Gathering is actually played? Well, carry on then"

Ulamog was dimly aware he was losing the games, but mostly he was just hungry and increasingly self-conscious.

And between them, Anon's game was going just as planned.

"Is this truly a wise stratagem?" asked Emrakul, as he patiently destroyed his own lands and creatures.

"Absolutely" said Anon, "for you see-now you cannot destroy my lands. Nor can you attack my creatures"

(That is because you are rapidly running out of them) pointed out She.

Anon waved a hand airly. "In another turn, my play could be undone by a single card, yes. Red/blue's always a bit of a gamble, isn't it? You win some, you lose some. Truly the thinking man's gambit. And no" he added, as Emrakul glared at him "I have yet to use an actual Gambit in this adult's card game"

(I do not approve of gambits, because they demonstrate an inadequate grasp of causality and economics)

Anon shrugged. "Everyone's a critic"

(Furthermore, I do not believe you are actually intending to play a suicidal game)

*And why is that?" Anon gestured at the Eldrazi titans, Eldrazi spawn and miscellaneous Eldrazi-related cards his opponent had laid on her side of the table. "I am surrounded! The only victory left to me is a moral one!"

(Because you are terrible) intoned She, as her opponent tried to avoid a floating bottle of disinfectant (at feigning weakness)

"Playing, you say? My lady, I am but a humble cardsharp, only here for love of the game-and no other" purred Anon, unsubtly scratching his shoulder in such a way the light bounced off his biceps and onto his face. Cecelyne wolf-whistled, while She suddenly focused on the cards in her lap even as Her eyes widened. Even Emrakul found herself speechless. "I play games, for it is in my nature. But I digress! I have no illusions about the outcome of this challenge, and no intention of disappointing. I've dug my grave, and so help me father-SOMEONE better lay in it!"

(...I suspect) She said, viciously stomping a mind-heel into her opponent's carelessly swaying foot (that you are only losing. In pretend)

"Again, I must ask-why IS that?"

(Because the third last card in your hand is Balance). She narrowed her eyes. (One of the least balanced cards in the game)

Anon stared down at a knight carrying a set of scales in apparent amazement. "Why, so it is! Why, hasn't the shit just hit the fan!"

(Your windmill does not require janitorial services)

Emrakul stared at him. "...enough of this facade. What are you playing at?"

"I already told you. Balance" Anon all but smashed the knight face down on the table, Emrakul's cards evaporating into sad puffs of pink smoke-leaving behind a trio of titans. "It is balance that unites us, balance that defines us. Balance that binds us. And it is balance" he added, almost as an afterthought "that will bind you"

"Ah. The hedrons" Emrakul sounded serene if somewhat distant, but her cape snapped without wind. "You think to rebuild our cells with sorcery. You would scour our strength through the spawn, and chain our titans in the underworld". She gestured, and with a sucking noise her cards sprouted fleshy tendrils that bore into the table. Flesh replaced the pasteboard, and the images within moved towards their picture frames; around her, Kozilek's cards turned black and Ulamog's cards began to devour each other. "But we are beyond strength, now"

"Did I say anything about hedrons? I fear" Anon's eyes narrowed "that you are terribly misled as to my design. Milady, I told you-I'm here to kick ass and play cards! And believe you me, I am all out of ass. And uh, kicks. I'm barefoot, that works" Anon babbled while contriving to look hurt. Cecelyne coughed loudly into her fist while writing a formal summons declaring her opponent's deck was actually a death threat to Wizards of the Coast in disguise with her left hand. "Just look at all the enchantments and artifacts I've saved up! The next play will, I tell you, be a massacre! Don't flip your cards though, it really annoys my secretary over here"

On cue, She hissed loudly, shrivelling Ulamog's eldritch bravado as he guiltily dropped a handful of fleshy cards. Emrakul stared at the enchantments. Even before Anon had started decimating his own deck, there had been more of them than creatures and lands combined.

Eldritch senses extended. There was a sliver of truth under the man's enthusiasm, writhing like a worm chopped in half.

"Indeed. I see you have quite a few destructions and combinations held in reserve" she said, tilting her head. "I mean the cards, of course"

"Of course" Anon grinned further than humanly possible.

"Then" said Emrakul, drawing a card "perhaps I should finally take my turn"

***

Gwen was simultaneously more and less comfortable in this role than her career on the battlefield. It was like coming back to an old university, long after everyone had forgotten who put a horse in the Dean's office. They had pushed the creatures back to the farthest corner, where the titans had initially broken through before frozen light dragged them out again. Let the others mock her, the flames had proclaimed Avacyn leader of this operation, and freed of actual interference she worked with something approaching cheer.

With deformities like the ones visited on this plane, actual cheer would have to wait for another day.

Focus (like mother taught you, you just have to believe in her), let light and time take form within your mind's eye. Watch it burst free, and have faith (that's not exactly right, is it? You just have to believe in the miracle itself), and the actual reversal of time through light took care of itself. That's all there is to healing, everything else is just culling dead weight. Wandering merchants and wide-eyed soldiers alike thanked her through tears and bloodied masks of dirt even as she moved on after kneeling to perform her rights. There were injured vampires too, lurking in the shade. They hissed at her when she avoided them, but in turn avoided her once she had haphazardly used her lightning sword to cauterise a mutated limb.

So tiring and repetitive was the process, she didn't see the shadows below a tree move when she left golden sparkles near them. They rushed up behind her, forming a serpent made of serpents, dark green burning with viric aurorae. It was as long as a cedar oak, and thicker.

"Hello, prodigal child" it hissed, stray serpents wafting the air.

"Manosque. How lovely to see you" said Gwen, not looking around. Once you became accustomed to their natures, some Devil-Tigresses stopped being cosmic forces and started being an unpleasantly familiar mundane evil.

"Oh, it'ssss Manossssque now?" she hissed, in the manner all old school snake-related villains are legally obligated to pronounce sufficiently sibilant sentences, "Not the Abysssssss Sssserpentine? Not the Ssssssymphony of All Venomssssss? I sssussspect a lessssssson in disssscccipline isss in order"

"I have no need for your games. And you certainly don't need to sss-to speak in that lisp. I am here only fulfilling my duty, nothing more"

The head of the serpent opened it's jaws. The upper half of a lean woman dangled lazily from it: Neatly applied mascara blackened her lips and outlined her dark eyes. Her long black hair somehow lay flat as she stared upside down at Gwen, wearing little more than two strategically placed serpents. Mockingly, she undulated as she did so, boneless as any of the component snakes "How odd. I usually get bonus successes for Manipulation actions when doing that. Ah well, pearls before swine and all that. What, pray tell, even is your duty?"

"Here and now, to heal the wounded. Now if you excuse me-"

"-liar. And a poor one, which offends my pride"

"I bow to your superior insight into the flames he left us. Leave me alone"

"Wise of you, but irrelevant. The once-Magnus would have seen something special in you, to stake such a world on your life"

"Then I envy your insight, but now I must go. My patients need me"

Manosque snapped her fingers. Smokey snakes poured out of the dead and dying's mouth; they thrashed, and lay still in pools of expelled venom. "There, the pain is gone and they recuperate in a cocoon of their own night terrors. Even I can perform your role, a lowly wyrm not fit to lick our glorious overlord's boots or the miracle-sculpted perfection of his thighs before nuzzling his-"

"-just. Stop. That. I have work to-" Gwen backed away as her portal to the Deep failed to appear. The woman slipped from the serpent's mouth, gracefully contorting to land on her elbows but rise on two legs obfuscated by an umbral loincloth of liquid darkness.

"Oh, you're just jealous your second apotheosis wasn't in his embrace" scoffed Manosque, sauntering without care for the carnage around her.

"Jealous? Is that what this is about? I did not choose to be here!" Somehow the woman contrived to be more intimidating while not engulfed by her torrent-shintai.

"So what if it is? And here we are" said a cold, imperious voice "relegated to working to working with a fossil while our glorious overlord cavorts with Hierarchy and Law. Probably in Law's depths". The shriek of vampires cut off within the icy fog wall rolling down the street, a white haired nun strutting to Gwen's back. At least, she thought she was once a nun. The straps and high boots made her wonder what religion was like on her world.

There was no actual rule, Gwen thought. It was simply tradition that Anon's expressed wishes for harmony were upheld by the wise, that stronger companions not bully the weaker ones. Fear, or respect-the distinction was pointless for one of his power. But now his absence weighed heavily on them all, and resentment led quickly to cabin fever.

They're unarmed, she thought. It would have been more merciful if they had the convenience of weapons.

A snore from behind her. One of the spawn's corpse had quietly blossomed, revealing perversely beautiful petal-geodes that glowed like the sun. The girl sleeping within it was tall and and milky pale with a splash of red on her cheeks, curvy and plump in regions that would never be described as fat, but rather well-built. Even among the other Devil-Tigers, her beauty was notorious.

"This one knows me" she mumbled in her sleep, tossing and turning in that golden blanket, bed and pillows formed by her hair shifting slightly with her head while mostly concealing her unclothed form. Gwen's eyelids threatened to close, as the world seemed to disappear in cascades of golden dust. "as I know her. Her joys are mine to share is life, the seed and the rot. Mmm. Come, sit with me and I may tell you of things to come"

Gwen didn't dare turned around. Did the other Tigresses not dare approach the she-titan they simply named the Oracle? Or were they entrapped in their own hazes of gold? It was like being drunk, or dreaming; she realised this should not have happened, with all the gifts she had developed.

"Oh, silly you. There are ways and ends to every thing, even in those perfect, wicked things" said Gwen, chuckling to herself. Then she wondered why she had said that. The Oracle smiled in her sleep, forming some more of her hair into a teddy bear before continuing to speak.

"Your soul is pretty! PRETTY! Or" she hesitated, yawning "was it a hand-me-down from-oh I'm sorry, I don't know. I don't always know the things I know, you know. Tactless and hopeless. You think yours is a sad lot because you're a monster, and mother never did give you the love you deserved, and fate is a candle come to chop off your head. Do you like flames? I thought so. Do you like to dance? You do don't you, even though you don't like to admit it? You want to dance with our glorious overlord, don't you? You want to show him your holy dances!"

The images and sensations came, unbidden. This, Gwen was starting to realise, was a dream. Even if the she-titan seemed to like her, she wondered if she was in just as much danger as with her assailants. "Prithee" she said, slipping into an older tongue without meaning to "grant me privacy in the confines of my head"

"I'm truly sorry, I am. I see-not everything, but the shape of everything, and sometimes insides are outside" The girl turned over in her sleep. "What about being forced to mutilate and betray your own family by a hateful power while being told it's for your own good? We have so much in common! I'm sure we would have been the best of friends if one of us was awake and and one of us was better at small talk. Duck" she added

Gwen did, and a streak of venom hurtled through the golden shower before exiting it again. Manosque kicked her way into the room, lips bared in anger. "Oracle, get out of my w-"

"Hush. We are talking. Gwen, forgive my indulgence upon your past. Your brightest future is a candelabra buried deep under the world. To light it, I suggest you rescue the fallen gate's watchers as fuel. Poor Jace, blue-ba-da-bee-da-ba-dum. Gideon, that crushed lump of optimism. Chandra, the guttering flame. LIliana, the broken egomaniac. And-" The Oracle frowned. "Dearest Nissa, why is the pattern of your fate obscured to me? Ah, I see now. Behind every king, there is a Benefactor. Oh Anon, what have you done?"

"Should we not do something about her?" asked Gwen.

"Don't worry. It is not her fate to finish her blow yet. I have decreed it"

"What?" said Manosque, as she stared at her fist hanging in midair.

"Or, as the cute little hamster would say: As a Shaping effect, I have made it so it you cannot attack on your turn

"Troublesome. Then it seems I must perfectly defend against it". Manosque burst apart as a venomous blot of snakes, and lunged at-empty space.

Gwen still had no idea what had happened. The golden sheen faded away like morning dew; she was dimly aware she had left behind the two Devil-Tigresses behind. More of the Oracle's whispers guided her, told her where she was. Nearer to the epicenter of the invasion now, where the Gatewatch camped.

There was some arguing. A dark haired woman strode haughtily from the camp in a huff, chased by a bickering wild-haired man. The man who watched them go rubbed the bridge of his nose and shrugged helplessly at her.

"Don't mind them, they've been like this ever since...you know"

"I can relate" said Gwen. "At least they're not after you"

"Heh. Give them time. Not to make assumptions but if you're here to blame us, can I just say: We know. We've already been chased out of every settlement, there's not much left to civilly take at this point. And please, PLEASE believe me-we're all sorry" He flinched. "Yes, even Liliana, I swear. And if you're here to ask about the dome" he added "we didn't have anything to do with it"

"I do, actually". The words made him drop the makeshift wand in his hands, out of surprise. "Well, not quite but-I recognise some of the seals upon it. They are bands of Lig-of what you would call time. I am an agent of the one who built it, and who is stalling the entities"

"Stalemating the-oh, this changes everything" groaned Jace. "Wait, so-you know what's doing all this? Wait, that's a HE?" he yelled, waving at a column of fire vaporising a gaping maw.

"...some of that, at least"

Jace just stared at her. Gwen mentally thanked him for avoiding an awkward barrage of questions-

"-you're welcome" he said. Gwen blinked. He blinked. "Sorry, I-leave an open mind ever since that mob tried to hunt us down in the streets. I know you don't mean any harm, and I think I know a little of why you're here. You think your friend thinks, uh...he? He can help us, if we help him". He stared at the firestorm beyond. "He's a he. What is he, even"

"I couldn't say" said Gwen carefully, trying to remember what the Oracle told her to say. "But I think it has something to do with-"

-a bonfire erupted nearby; Jace jumped out of his skin while Gwen backed away a tall woman strode from it. Molten brass pooled into a neckless of golden talons, golden bracelets and a pair of sheathed swords on her back. The reptilian hide-cloak, smoking leather bra ringed with shark's teeth and filthy loincloth spoke of sub-barbaric living, but she wore the Crown of Thunders like she had been born with it. Fierce green eyes stared out from under wild red hair, the rough beauty a stark contrast to the rippling strength in her body-not the bulges of a bodybuilder, but sleak thews forged from a lifetime of relentless survival.

"With the flow of geomancy on this plane, forged into a trap" she said, every word steeped in crisp authority. Jace and Gwen both stood to attention automatically. "He has spoken. Gather your allies, we would have your cooperation"

"There may be some difficulty" protested Jace. "It's been a trying few days, and some of us-not I-have been considering leaving the-"

"Leave?!" barked the redhead. Jace had tripped over a rock before he wondered what he was doing. "Foolishness. My glorious overlord's decree is no trifling matter. The Deep runneth over. Bring me your comrades. Now"

Jace tried to say something else but realised his body was apparently already retreating out of a healthy desire for survival. He waved lamely at Gwen as he retreated.

"So you're Avacyn's trainee". Gwen met the one they called Merela's hard gaze. "Sulu and Cyan said they wanted a word, what was all that about?"

"Nothing in particular"

The woman frowned, harder. "Don't play games. When Oracle pays attention to someone, there's always something going on"

Unlike the other two, this one didn't threaten despite the palpable strength she exuded. She just interrogated, and left threats to the imagination. "...they attacked me, for-no good reason"

"Oh, I think I know their reason very well. Selfish, petty womanchildren". She spat, briefly vaporising solid rock with something hot. "Damn it all, and I thought the Oracle was rambling again. As if HE would find spats endearing at such an hour"

"Please, lady, if I may I would return to my duties"

Merela's eyes narrowed, but she clapped her on the shoulder. "I swear to you upon my divine right to rule: I will deal with this matter in such a manner you will never have to again. And in truth-he bade me give you a second message"

Gwen couldn't help herself. "He speaks to you? I thought he was lost to the world in his battles..."

"I and my circlemates have a...connection, with him. One stronger than any mere war"

"...I see"

"I can sense his Exaltation within you". The hand squeezed. "I know the ache you must have felt, since knowing him. The fire that kindles your very soul. I know what he must mean to you, that the yearning still burdens you so. You need not be alone forever, you know. In time, you too could cultivate such a connection with him"

"In time? How?"

Merela hesitated. "Bah, I've never had the words for this sort of thing. Better to show you, but this is hardly the time or place". She rubbed her temples. "Our sorceries-do you understand my meaning, that they are both crucible and sacrifice? So too is the Exaltation, it is as much proof of maturity as power to bear. If it would motivate you, I would suggest you treat your appointed task as such"

Gwen's heart sank. "Oh, no"

"He has bade you man his trap, below and Beyond the Cathedral of the Deep"

It was only then Gwen felt her bravado almost entirely falter. The barrier shattering and the tides of flesh barely added to her disappointment.

***

"Everything that is, will end" said Emrakul, delicately placing another card into the graveyard. "Everything that ends, will be lost in the Blind Eternities. It is nobody's fault. It is the problem, and the solution. It is simply the way things are. Do you understand?"

"What I understand" said Anon, "is that if you truly had that many cards in your deck, they would be spilling off the table in a stack"

"I tire of this diversion. You all tire of this diversion. This game is childish and futile" Emrakul gestured at the nearby tables; Kozilek sat motionless, eternally reaching for his own titan card, Cecelyne having encrusted him in sands that bent space into immobility. Ulamog had frozen in place, bound by frozen crystal. His opponent scrubbed angrily at the cards he'd held even as they squirmed under her grasp. Both Yozis said nothing, but all humor and irritation drained from their faces as the Eldrazi spoke. What was left was an intensity no sane human would wear.

But it had begun raining. The ground shook, as the warehouse walls cracked and let in flecks of viscous rain. Almost outside the players' fields of vision, tendrils and stranger things writhed, not quite there. But were the shadows in the same place as a minute ago? And all around them, the whispering. The repetition of unnameable names.

Emrakul threw back her hood. Bulbous lattices of sinew dripped from her eyes. "In the beginning, there are the Blind Eternities. In the end, they are there also. The travelling life did not change this, when they tarnished[imprisoned](bound)[banished]painted over us with their magics. You say you fight for balance. Can you not see we embody the balance?"

Anon stopped smiling for the first time during that game. His companions looked to him. "What if I were to tell you, that true balance has nothing to do with this, this-thisness?"

"Has? Or shouldn't, interloper? Growth!" shouted Emrakul suddenly, standing up.  "Growth is my answer, and my brothers' are predation and oblivion! Do you not realise entropy cannot lose? Without the mercy my brothers provide, these worlds would stagnate into cancers. The Blind Eternities gave, and every day they take  The screaming torpor, the rot of blood spread so thin you cannot tell what is living, what is dead and what was never either! You play at fighting me-and to what end? Is it the truth you fear? Or do you despise life enough to deny its' destiny within me?!"

"Destiny" snorted Anon, unmoved even as Emrakul's cards had become replaced by moaning, skittering baleen-flesh creatures. "Oh, that's rich. So you're a species of Samaritans, then. Don't pretend you care enough about destiny to do that much about it. Pity what becomes one with you never seems to show up anywhere else, assuming I believe you-is there really any difference between you and the alternative?"

"Form is the gift none thank us for. Eternal form" Emrakul clutched at her own flesh, wings beating; with a sudden crack, Ulamog also shattered part of his shackles. Kozilek had started moving again. "Form, versus what you would call the death of ego. In my gullet, men become singular monsters. In the Eternities, men can become anything"

"And you would have me believe you-all of you-get nothing out of this? Come now. You're attacking a world thriving and growing in it's prime"

"What does it matter? You too act in accordance to your nature" She stared at him. Spreading her hands, veins dripping between them.  "You intrude on my home. You demean me through these games. You desecrate the blossoms, salt the fertile soil and rip resentment from the earth when this cycle should have been the greatest of them all. Because it will end any hope of the prison reforming. I know what you are doing to this plane"

"You think you know, do you?"

"I know. I have always known" she insisted. She gently put a finger on the table, and where she touched it cancerous flesh infested the black glass. The Yozis stepped back quickly even as the other Eldrazi leaned upon it, the table turning to dust or spawning jagged maws. "Are we truly so different? Can you honestly stand in judgement of me, when your allies are remade and branded in your own image?"

Cecelyne and She's fists balled. But She whispered (You are not incorrect)

"Am I unique, in subdividing my aspects to change a world? Who then, is the intruder here?"

At that, Anon. Blinked.

The table was a twisted, moaning mess. The chairs had shattered, the Yozis moving as if to call on their own powers. Only Anon remained at a pristine patch of table, upon his colourless chair. Deliberately drawing a card.

"Charming. Is it my turn yet?"

Emrakul paused. "Still? You think of games at this time? In this place?"

"Yes, yes. You were in the middle of your turn. It's mine, now. If you win, perhaps this will stop. I might even give you my answer"

Emrakul didn't quite sigh, but for a moment, her wings resembled baleen again. "So be it. I am already winning". She sat down again, upon a chair-sized form of her titan. Another few rounds of relatively unremarkable adult's card games passed, the others watching and waiting for the first blow to be struck.

"Tell me one thing, at least. Why bother with personification? I can tell you feel almost as demeaned by this as I do"

"Aha. Checkmate"

"What?"

Anon stood up from the table and walked away.

"Where are you going?"

"Alright ladies, the ruse is up" said Anon. "Let's leg it before they know what's hit them"

(I do not believe blunt force weapons exist in this reality)

"Figure of speech, _______" said Anon, Her Name rattling on his tongue like iced light.

"What is reality, really?" added Cecelyne. "A miserable little conflux of mana and aether if you ask me. Hardly anything to write home about. In my day, physical laws didn't disappear when anyone except you hit them hard enough"

"Are you insane?" shouted Emrakul. "This gesture is meaningless! Your barrier is shattered! This world is mine!"

"Which isn't happening" interrupted Anon "because you just activated my trap card"

Emrakul picked up the card. A young woman in a veil, carrying two swords.

One blazing, like sunlight. One dripping with the Deep.

***

There was a noise like a thousand chalkboards screeching remixed with a shattered glacier. That was all Gwen heard as the world exploded into a blue of green fire, ending as Merela threw her through the church doors.

"GO!" she shouted "WE HAVE BATTLES TO FIGHT. YOU HAVE A WAR TO WIN". And then the doors slammed shut, Gwen flinching as the all-too familiar cold sank into her. Heavy and cloying, like noxious tar. Cold and damp as the grave.

It was dark and damp, the only light from torches lit with the dark fires of humanity. The Cathedral of the Deep stretched upwards and outwards, farther than Gwen knew the loathsome hovel could on the outside. These pillars could have been mistaken for the archtrees of old, and her frantic steps echoed further than she could tell. In the distance, there was the faintest hint of a deep blue (THAT IS NO SUN) amidst the cloying, rippling coldness she had traversed far too often for comfort.

This, she realised, was a world where dregs usurped the sacred cycle. Not even humanity. Dregs.

She turned amidst the countless pews. Around her, the nearest murkmen turned-skeletal figures encrusted with mould, stone and Deep-rot, a narrow flit lengthwise where a face should have been. Amidst her fear, she noticed the vast marjority remained with their hands clasped in front of themselves, as if at prayer. Only the nearest stared into her very soul, one reaching out in yearning.

"Stop". A familiar voice. Not unkind, but sharp as a whip. The murkmen withdrew, but drunkenly beckoned her onwards. Gwen exhaled the tension she didn't know she was feeling in this literal nadir. Crossing the threshold, wondering how many crouched here in reverence. Endless rows. In some, a beautiful marble worm-man studded with pale blue crystals stared upwards amidst the murkmen. Gwen refused to follow their gaze, knowing the angels above were quick to wrath. Now she walked, to where she knew the Deep pooled.

"Hello, child. It seems we have both been called downstairs" said Karla. Her voice echoed throughout the Church, from everywhere and nowhere. Gwen did not wish to know too much of the Deep, but she had heard Anon say that in a very real way, the Church was her body.
One of them, at least. "I don't suppose he's here in person?"

"...no"

"How unfortunate. Ever since he persuaded me to indulge my true nature upon his soul-ah!". Wind blew, somewhere in the distance at a feverish pitch. "It's like a hunger that can never be gorged. An itch that burns the more it's scratched. All my sisters' yearnings and my father's hollow need, thinking about nothing but his luminosity"

Gwen froze. "If you have harmed him..." she couldn't finish the sentence. Not here.

"Never" The response was swift. "The seal of his fire I bear tames the worst of it. One way or another"

"My apoligies. I did not mean to-I. I'm sorry"

"It's no bother at all". Karla sounded calmer, less breathless without tantalising anticipation. "Shall we get this over with? I am more than aware this is...unpleasant, for you"

"Y-yes, let us make haste w-Karla" stammered Gwen. Kicking herself inwardly for standing up to the Yozis' successors, but shivering in the presence of a woman who didn't even mean her harm.

"Just a moment, please" A sigh, from out of the gloaming. "To think the Grail of the Deep would take so many of my physical bodies to complete. Why, 'tis as much my artifice as my flesh and blood. His, too, come to think of it. Mmm. Speaking of which, I am most grateful the Deep conceals this indignity. Ugh!"

Gwen tried not to think too hard about anything for a few seconds.

The groans and grunts came from the front of the Church, the murkmen leaning forwards as if in anticipation. Behind the sole pew in the Church, lay a pool of brackish liquid distilled from the greatest dregs. Gwen was told it was once shallow, but wondered how little meaning the word had when darkness distorted space and time by it's very nature. Karla's voice now burbled upwards from within the pool, bubbles sluggishly bloating and bursting. Finally, a violet purple opened just below it's surface, Gwen flinching from the burst of darkness it emitted as a struggling figure waded and flailed out of it, scrambling onto dry land.

Gwen wondered if she should offer a hand, and was ashamed to realise she didn't dare even touch the woman. Or even come near, as the Deep dripped off every inch of her.

"Well" said Karla brightly, "that's one dress ruined before it was even worn. Oh blast it all, where's my hat? Of all the things to miss, where's my bloody-" she stooped down, and fished in the dreg-pool for a moment, fishing out a pointed hat. Making a token effort at wringing it dry, she triumphantly propped it on her head. Even without the pale woman's dark hair and pale skin, the outfit could not have been mistaken for anything but a witch. One that had been strolling around the bottom of the sea, at least.

A wave, and another portal opened on the Church's floor. This one generously opening onto a flight of stone stairs. "I assume he has told you about what you're meant to do?"

"No. I confess, I still have no idea what I'm doing here. When he set me to these tasks, he told me his design could be seen through my dreams". The journey was dark, and as the witch led Gwen found herself grateful the woman had apparently taken her proportions into consideration. Of course, much like the Tigresses it seemed her communion (DON'T THINK ABOUT IT) with Anon's soul had given her Lordly proportions too.

Karla was silent for a few seconds. "Ah...would it be presumptuous of me to ask you what those dreams concern?"

"Darkness. Blood" The words slipped out in a panic and Gwen inhaled quickly, trying to catch a breath she knew was stained with the Deep.

"My condolences. I should not have-"

"-no. No, right now this is more important" gasped Gwen. "My dreams. In my dreams, we Lords are all burning in the Abyssal fires. And the only one left is my mother"

"I...see. Brace yourself!"

She gaped in surprised as like the Deep ended, and she fell further than she could have survived. When she and the witch landed without issue, she looked around her and-it was too much. Too much to take in at once, too much to grasp. After about a minute, she made sense of the chaos: Anon had once taken her to holiday off the coast of the most beautiful island she had ever seen. She had shied away from the submersible swimming apparatus at first. Scuba diving, he called it. Then upside down, she had watched mighty waves heave and retreat, flinging about fish, sand and and kelp alike. Pure light, dancing forever.

This was like that, but for reality. If she squinted, the horizon formed into a translucent cube winding in on itself. Deeper (was it?), a babbling brook of names snaked it's way below the roiling surface.

"This is the Beyond, the place where things that cannot exist do. Or an aspect of it, at least-frozen into a cradle by our master's flames and dreams"

"It's too much. It's too big"

"Perhaps we should move on" suggested Karla. "I've always thought it seems a rather tranquil depth of the Abyss, myself. But while we have all the time in the world, he does not"

"This is why I don't study the forbidden tomes" groaned Gwen. "Nothing ever makes sense. Where are we going?"

"I suppose you could think of it as a sort of transposing kiln. One great enough to transpose the world". And indeed, the grey marble structure did remind her somewhat of the Kiln of the First Flame. It was a mountainous sphere split at it's peak with a jagged rim and steep slopes, which a man could have hiked up with a lot of tenacity. Within, the telltale flow of Anon's lilac flames.

The walk took two stories, and a kettle of fish. Gwen found the latter unnerving, flicking fish out of her face only to find herself on the precipice of the Grail. Above it, flecks of light fell from the heavens and into the kiln. She looked into it, and wished she had not.

The interior of the dome was made of the witch's clones, in their hundreds and all sizes. Motionless, by their feet or waists they were amalgamated into being part of the dome itself, the lilac flames enveloping them without burning. Five or six of the largest ones-that could have split open the dome, perhaps-were centered around a massive soul dreg. She looked into the Deep, and the Deep stared back.

"A candelabra. But I thought. By the Flame, it's an actual candelabra" babbled Gwen, backing away. The witch had settled near yet another lilac bonfire, precariously impaled on this tip of the dome by an ebon blade.

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it" she said, attempting comfort while in the awkward position of dripping Gwen's major source of discomfort. "The foreign sorceries awoke the spirits of Zendikar's lands, and then bound them into Deepmaw's core to feed it"

"And. And when the core awakes?"

"Even that, I do not know. This magic-third of the akashic truths-will grant it power greater than anything this world has ever seen. It will be as if the fire were eternally linked, and a new world were painted from the dreg. Or so he said"

"I-I can't-no, please no" Gwen buried her head in her hands. "H-h-he wants me to unleash that...how would I ever. Oh no. No, no, no. Not like this"

"Please, be calm"

"In my dreams" said Gwen, shakily standing up. "I always make it to my mother's bedchambers. Did you know she was once a goddess, and twice a queen? Now, she is an empty husk swaddled in filth. Surrounded by leeches and addicts, that revel in her perverted gifts that remind her every day of when she was thrown from grace to rot in the darkness. She doesn't even look at me until I give her back the tongue I stole, because she is trying to wake the body of that wretched heretic. When she looks up, she weeps like a child and embraces me. I can see an ember of the woman she once was in those mouldy eyes again. Then, she forces her own soul into my hands. And she begs me to show her sunlight. One. Last. Time"

Gwen was crying.

"But the fire has faded"

Gwen wiped her tears.

"Death, and life, and fire all rot in slow decay. The world rotting because of Uncle Gwyn's mistake. My inheritance is no exception"

"Gwen-" Karla stood, but she had already broken into a run.

AND OUR SUN IS RED AS THE FLESH THAT RUNS LIKE CANDLEWAX she didn't scream, throwing herself into the Grail-

***

-right as Avacyn caught her.

"What are you doing?! I trained you better than this! Are you hurt? You WILL be, if you ever somehow decide to do that again!" she shouted.

"I, I just-"

"Get over here! Steel yourself at once!" She had never seen Avacyn look this angry-or this concerned before. The angel blinked away hurt tears even as she frantically healed her. "I did NOT survive Innstrad to see you make my mistakes!"

"I don't know what to do!" screamed Gwen. "The w-Karla, said this was some kind of kiln so I thought-"

"Not THAT kind of Kiln! Next time, please listen when I'm in the middle of explaining soul mechanisms!" shouted the witch, striding up. "If he wanted a sacrifice, he wouldn't have used you! He wouldn't use any of us like that!"

"How can you be sure? How can ANY of us be sure? Face it, without him we are lost! And the world is breaking, and I don't know what to do except I'm apparently the lynchpin of his plan and I'd rather-"

"You know I'm right here, right?" asked the bonfire. "If you really have to, you can just, you know. Ask"

Gwen opened her mouth. She shut it. "A-Anon?" She ragdolled gently next to the bonfire. Avacyn dropped to a knee, barely registering surprise. Karla broke out in a smile, and started kindling it.

"Yep. Oh yes, a little closer to the embers there. Ahem, barrier's down, let's talk"

"She needs-well, you, really" said Karla, expertly kneading humanity from herself to transfer. "But I do not know if our allies can hold the whole of Zendikar for long"

"No time like the present. Which doesn't exist, here. Therefore, we have all the time in the world" The bonfire sighed. "I'm sorry about all of this. This is all my fault. I just wanted to prove to you that you're a true companion, and not a load. I wanted to give you a shot at taking on the world like a big girl, and I didn't anticipate the incursion being so powerful the barrier I needed to stall them stopped me from explaining the whole thing coherently. Let me just clear the air right now: This wasn't a punishment, and this wasn't a test"

Avacyn looked torn. "My lord, while I would never question your judgement I cannot help but agree with those criticisms". She took a breath, and added "and I have good proof that my trainee has been assaulted by-"

"Avacyn, I order you to let me finish apologising to my friend. Also, I know. They're sleeping on someone else's couch for a year"

"Thank you, my lord" she finished gratefully. Inwardly she almost pitied them; even for the crueller Devil-Tigresses, a year of withdraw was a heavy burden to bear.

Gwen tried to wipe some of the tears from her face. "I-I-I'm sorry too. Did I...do something wrong?"

"Hells bells girl, at what point did you think i wanted you to do THIS? Just because I'm leaving, doesn't mean I'm LEAVING you. Look, it's simple: I wanted you to realise that the power to activate my trump card was inside of you all along. It'd take a miracle for you to make a difference"

"I wish I'd known. But in that case, why choose me?"

"Fuck no, I meant-an ACTUAL miracle. I mean, a FUNCTIONAL one like the kind your family's famed for. You know how you can teach yourselves those from dreams? Those ones. You're not having bad dreams because you're falling to pieces, you're having bad dreams because your mother's soul is resonating with the Deep within you to create something unique. Something miraculous, even. Because it's a miracle" he added

"I don't understand, you're a being of infinite light. This birthright-can't you see it's tainted? I don't want to mar your design-okay, that sounds really stupid now" she admitted.

"Should've laid all my cards out on the table from the start, kid. My own damn fault for not wanting to burden you with minutiae. Listen Gwen, this power you hold. Repeat after me: It's not a curse"

"How can you say this? My mother is dead-"

"Dead? DEAD?! Of course she's dead!" shouted the fire. "And that's all the reason for you to LIVE! To remember the good in her, and grow stronger from the bad!"

Half of Gwen wanted to link the fire in a very literal sense. The other half let out a strangled laugh.

"Take some breaths. Look at me, know that I speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth: Whatever you saw that night, I felt the final moments of her soul as keenly as you did. She was blind at that point. But red or gold, she knew the touch of sunlight when you brought it upon her. You saved her, Gwen. That's all she ever wanted, to see you one last time"

"Even so, to save an entire world with this power. I cannot believe I am worthy"

"My distant relatives nearly damned our world" said Karla gently "without even trying. You helped save lives from beasts in an age of dark. And from experience, I can say you often have more worth than you let yourself believe"

"Damn straight" agreed the fire. "I meant what I said. You'll figure out what your miracle's for, and you don't need me to be twice the goddess your mother ever was. Anon out". And with a strike of thunder the flames dimmed again.

Not knowing if it would make matters better or worse, Karla gingerly offered Gwen a hand even as she grasped frantically for Anon's embers. Gwen hid a smile; all this time she'd tried not to think about it, and it was actually nice to realise she had at least one thing in common with the witch she was not ashamed of. Karla, she reminded herself. The witch's name was Karla.

"Listen to me, heir of Lords" said Avacyn, pulling her into a fierce hug. "And never forget this. Believe in yourself. Not in the Gwen that I believe in, not in the Gwyn you once believed in. Believe in Anon who believes in you"

And she did.

And true sunlight lit up the Beyond. Reddened, twisted-but still bountiful.

***

Anon opened his eyes. "Checkmate, bitches"

Webs of golden razor wire snapped tight around the Eldrazi, thrumming with angry red light. Kozilek roared in dismay; Ulamog had already tripped as the wires started to retract. Emrakul tried to give chase, but was garrotted from behind.

"NO!" screamed the Aeons Torn, as she was drawn into a deep blue maelstrom. As the Warehouse-simulacrum began to collapse in on itself,, a young woman in a top hat and goth clothes dramatically threw part of it aside like a tablecloth.

"And now" she called "introducing our guest star: Deedee of the Endless, also known as Death Herself! Please keep all hands, tentacles and gaping maws inside the Deepslide at all times!"

"YOU'RE KILLING US" bellowed Emrakul, her brother Eldrazi floundering as a torrent of Deep smacked him in a semicircle of geospiritual energy. Their energies were pulled through with the current, swirling and condensing even tighter than the first time they had been caged. "This is not the prison, what have you done?!"

"What IS death really?" scoffed Anon. "I'll tell you what it is: It's being too damn stupid to not shit where you eat. Did you think I missed all your spawn assaulting the leylines from underground when we stalled you at the dome? I was counting on that! And now, you've taken the bait-and you won't stop feeding! You CAN'T stop feeding, CAN YOU?! So get ready for the ride of your life, because all you can do is sit back and enjoy the shitstorm you're a part of forever!"

"What" Emrakul was choking, trying to stay afloat. With a roar of dismay, Kozilek vanished in to the center of the giant dreg. "What gives you the right to do all of this? For what purpose do you usurp the natural order? Can you not imagine the consequences?"

"Oh, I'm not gonna kill you" In a crack of thunder, Anon let loose his true form and grasped Emrakul by the throat and dangled her over the dreg. As the other Yozis assumed theirs, his light shook simultaneously seared the colourless mana and angelic throat he held. "I'm just gonna hurt you real bad, until I need to drag you out on your leashes. For the good of the multiverse. In the name of every lifeform you've trampled on to glut yourself. And because your kind badly needs to learn you have consequences just like everyone else. Dad's right sometimes, you know. The classics have a certain charm. Like a lake of everlasting torment where you can wail all you like until nobody comes."

"Can you bear the burden of existence alone?" demanded Emrakul. "Do you truly think you can change the very laws of nature, and yield order from them?"

"Of course! I REVEL in it, you gormless termagant!" roared Anon. "And who said anything about doing it alone?"

Karla emerged from the whirlpool slowly, atop a surging wave of humanity. "Our hopes and dreams are etched on the bodies I've lost, transforming this infinite flame into darkness!"

Avacyn pierced through Emrakul from below; the titan screeched in outrage, a hole in it's body, clinging to it's surging walls even as the angel struck it again and again. "Unmatched in Zendikar, and Innstrad! A weapon to surpass the gods themselves!"

Ulamog had almost reached the rim. In a split second, She abandoned her human form to become spheres and flames. "ABNORMIES GET OUT!" she screeched, the Eldrazi fumbling as it's skin turned to crystal in the face of an all-out assault. "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" she screamed beyond the human range of hearing, knocking the Eldrazi tail over teakettle in the Deep's depths. "FUCKING ABNORMALFAG SHITS" she added, striking at Emrakul with a multidimensional mind-blade. The Eldrazi no longer resembled anything human, and bled from hundreds of wounds.

"BROTHERS. IT'S NOT OVER YET". The Eldrazi's voice shook the dimension they were in, even as Deedee's authority sapped it's strength. Anon had turned in the nameless direction again, gathering vast sorceries about him and shouting-but not at the titan. Emrakul drew itself back, attempting to strike while he seemed distracted.

And a ribbon of red sunlight barred it entry. It turned; skittering up and down the whirlpool's sides like a poisoned comet, Emrakul's latest attacker backflipped on the rebound, a surfboard dissolving into a binding haze. Emrakul struggled in horror as it felt itself calcifying, taking the form of a tree's stone roots and a dragon's petrified maw.

"My mother is gone. But she's right here in my heart, and in my board! She lives on as part of me!" shouted Gwen, crouching on the far shore. "How could something like you that never lived, ever realise what we have loved and lost?" Her hands burned with sunlight, drawing back in concentration. "My mother's soul is glowing red! Her burning love tells me how to defeat you! TAKE THIS! MY GRIEF, MY ANGER AND ALL OF MY SUNLIGHT! CRIMSON QUEEN OVERDRIVE!"

The blades were out of her hands and buried in Emrakul at the speed of thought. As it was forcibly reborn into grotesque atrophy, the Eldrazi finally learned why life fought it with it's dying breath.

And then, the Deep closed over it, sealing shut.

Silence.

After a while, Cecelyne coughed. "Well. That happened. If anyone wants the summoning rites to our newly bound assets, I'll be wherever you're praying to me"

"I do!" said Anon, barging back into Deedee's domain. "I felt that from all the way outside this reality. Nice job with that spirit bomb, Gwen! Oh. Somebody get that young lady a bed"

Karla began to open a portal, hesitated. "Dee, I would like for my...friend to enjoy at least one night's sleep without nightmares of the Deep. Have you a spare bed in your domain?"

"Can do! Nice to see you girls are getting along, I heard there was some tension for a while?" asked the bustling psychopomp.

"I suppose". Karla smiled ruefully. "Sometimes I wonder, if I were in her shoes and she in mine..."

Avacyn hesitated. "My lord, unless there is anything pressing-"

"Just do it" said Anon, "we don't leave our people behind. Oh, and light a bonfire for me so I can be there too"

"Must you leave already?" asked the Oracle, tumbling out of reality into Death's domain at one remove. The other Devil-Tigers tripped over the waterfall of golden hair spilling out of the Beyond; Merela yelling at the top of her lungs while beating Manosque with Sulumor.

Cecelyne sniffed. "Kids these days"

(I recommend total eradication of the invaders) She insisted. (They are obviously a danger to causality and good form. Also, I agree)

"I know it's been a trying few days. I swear to you all, I'll literally make time for catching up if I have to. But right now, duty calls. I promise you all, securing what we've truly sought from this battle won't take long"

"You have such a nice way of saying we when you refer to yourself" said Karla coyly. "I hardly believe that once, ecstasy through service to you was but a joke"

"I know, I know" said Anon quietly. Those remaining abandoned physicality to swirl about him in elemental forms, comforting and clinging in turns as he tried to hide his distress. Communicating faster than words could say. "Hark at this old thrallherd talking about turning curses into miracles, eh? I can't change the past that matters"

"And of course, perhaps we do not want you to"

"All I can do is skulk off into my shiny new demesne while my friends are too hurt to not be overwhelmed by my presence"

(Identifiable demesne not detected. Please elaborate) said She.

A familiar surge of confidence. Anon smiled, without a face. Gesturing in the nameless direction, he led his entourage through it to look upon what he'd staked a claim to.

Somewhere, the Eldrazi were immersed in a darker depth than Earth's oceans. He unfurled his presence again, let them feel the terror of his majesty pressing against him-and gave them knowledge of his intended goal. Mouths that never had to scream with uncomprehending terror into the darkness, learned.

"You are all my pieces. And I have yet to stop playing" he whispered to them.

He looked upon the Blind Eternities. Beginning. Ending. And now, Benefactor willing, at least partly his sanctum.

"I can do anything I want to you. Anything at all. Remember that you have no salvation, because I want everything"

FIN