Chapter 133: Going where you're not wanted

Chapter 133: Going where you're not wanted

They entered the ninth layer of the Pit by means of a swirling portal hidden beyond the Sinister Blockade.

You have entered Layer 9, The Hopeless Tower

Together they passed through, the eight members of Crimson Hydra and Jessica in the Finem Somnia, the Castrum Mortis bringing up the rear. Wings in close formation they entered the endlessly revolving crimson smoke.

To enter a smoky world of sloping plains dotted with menhirs. The ground was rough and broken up, rising to sharp crests and falling away again, and anything more than a quarter of a mile away was reduced to a dull blue shadow; beyond that, the world was hidden altogether.

Smears of refulgent golden light, egg-yolk yellow and warm orange, rose here and there around the horizon as if betraying false dawns of their own devising; it was as if this plane were surrounded by a dozen or so shifting suns, each smothered in smoke and lost as the clouds closed thick only to appear once more as they parted.

But Jamess attention was locked on the central construct that dominated the land before them. Compared to the monumental scale of the Blockades walls it was small; a tower, rough hewn from black stone, rising from a wide base to a blocky top encircled by a parapet upon whose flat roof shards of black stone stood. Here and there cracks betrayed a bright, orange interior light, as if the entirety of the tower were freshly cooled magma, and the chinks in the black rock yet revealed the molten core.

There were no windows, no adornments, but a broad portal stood front and center in the towers base, a peaked portico arching above it, hellish crimson light spilling forth. Boulders and sloping rock framed this doorway, though despite the light that emanated forth James couldnt make out what lay within.

No demons.

No guardians.

No signs of life anywhere.

Theres the tower, said Yadriel.

Serenity smirked. Thanks.

They flew forward slowly, defensive Benedictions up, watching for signs of an ambush, anything that would reveal the peril of this ninth floor.

But all was still but for the shifting curtains of blue smoke that revealed and hid the sulfurous yellow glows along the horizon.

Looks like we have to go inside, said Denzel. Entrance is too small for the mechs, though.

What if we just blast the tower apart? asked Jason. Like we did with the Hollow Hill?

Im all for not playing by their rules, agreed James. Castrum?

TARGET ACQUIRED, boomed the sixty-foot tall mech, and unleashed the full awe of his armaments all at once.

His mounted Vault Cannons blazed, his laser slashed forth, and his plasma gun bathed the obsidian tower in superheated Aeviternum.

The sheer release of power buffeted James, and he felt the Wing rock. But when the Castrum relented and ceased its fire, the tower remained undamaged, the black stone obdurate and flinty.

Well shit, said Yadriel.

What if we all attack at same time? asked Olaf. Heavenly Assaults, guns, everything?

James rubbed at his bearded chin. We can try, but sure. On the count of three.

At the signal they hit the tower with everything they had. Heavenly Assaults braided down from the sky, dozens of them forming an attack broader than the tower itself, while the Castrum, Somnia, and Serenity fired their guns.

The shockwave caused all their Wings to bob and float back, but again, when they were done, the tower stood undamaged. This time however entire chunks of it glowed cherry red, but even as James watched these began to cool.

My turn, said Jessica. She bounded forward, lithe and athletic, only to leap and soar through the smoky air. She swung her Divisor blade as she passed it, and the eight-yard long sword slammed into the black stone, causing chips and shards to fly free.

But the blade only sank in a yard, and the Somnia was forced to twist midair and pull it free lest she lose her grip on it altogether.

The mech slid across the rough ground a dozen yards before coming to a stop, facing the tower. Her blade was undamaged, but it had only dealt a gash to the huge tower.

That was more damage than the rest of us did, said Jason quietly. Heck of a sword.

Guess were not supposed to knock it down. James grimaced. Or were just not powerful enough to treat it like a kids sandcastle. All right. That doors obvious enough. Well go inside.

Yippee, said Serenity.

They flew down and parked the Wings. While the main entrance was large enough for them to fly through, they saw that the hall within split into narrow side corridors. No flying the Wings around in there.

Keep close, said James as they bunched up. Stay in the Protective Circle. If things get hairy Ill teleport us out.

Their eight Circles of Power formed about them, revolving as before, and Angelic Armor and Aureate Bucklers manifested. Jelly flew just beside his shoulder, sword-arms slowly revolving. With guns and axes raised they strode forward, listening and watching intently.

But nothing moved.

The entrance was as crude as it was massive. Huge stone columns held up the porticos slanting beams. Despite the crimson light the air was frigid; James stared into the stark entrance hall but saw no fireplace, no lanterns, no source for the illumination.

Ready? he asked.

Nods all around.

James stepped over the threshold and found himself immediately alone but for Jelly. He wheeled around but his companions were gone. He no longer stood in the entrance hall, but rather a black stone hallway, tall and roughly hewn. Everything was illuminated by a gray, hazy light, the same indistinct dawn glow the precedes the sun.

Circular was new.

The walls, floor, ceiling were all of the same obsidian, but a central well dominated the space, while glowing letters of gold were inlaid around the curved wall.

James turned as he read the message.

The Hands of Angels Cup the Candleflame of Hope

Huh. You think that means we need to summon someone?

It cant hurt, I suppose.

James summoned his statistics, focused on the Angels, and activated the Angelic Host.

A golden seam appeared in the air on the far side of the chamber, then split and an angel appeared, floating through with ineffable grace.

Where the archangel had been all sullen power and controlled violence, this being was slender and graceful, his hair hanging down past his shoulders, his expression one of wry curiosity and genial amusement. Clad in a tunic that fell past his knees and was belted with a gold rope at the waist, he looked more a scholar than a warrior, though in the depths of his golden eyes blazed starfields that spoke of hidden infinities.

Greetings, lord. You have need?

The angels voice lacked the resonant power of the archangels; though clear and harmonious, it could have been that of a mere trained orator.

I yes. Were on the ninth level of the Pit. The Hopeless Tower? James felt off-balance, unsure how to address the politely inquisitive man. Were trapped and separated from our companions.

Understood. You wish for me to guide you to the center of the tower? It is easily done.

Yes. But This was the first time James had confronted an angel without extreme urgency forcing his hand. Your name was Angelic Host. Doesnt that mean there should be more of you?

I am/are the Host, that is correct. Should I die, two shall spring forth to take my place. Should they die, four shall be invoked, ad infinitum. So do we multiply till we are sufficient in number to achieve our task.

Damn, said James. Thats impressive.

But only moderately so. We cannot defeat enemies that are categorically more powerful than ourselves, no matter our number. And often there is no time for our numerous deaths; if aid needs be immediate, we can fall short.

Often? James frowned. This is something youve done before? I thought my friends and I were the first to gain access to angelic aid.

Oh yes, you are. The Host smiled. But war is eternal. This is not the first conflict to take place, nor shall it be the last. If I die here, I shall be reborn to fight elsewhere. All is eternal, all is but a moment of infinite, repetitive duration.

Huh. James scratched at his beard. Where else have you fought? Like, other versions of Earth? Or other planets?

My apologies. We are not permitted to speak of such matters. And may we suggest that we remain focused on the matters at hand?

Yeah, wait a second. Ive a bunch of questions. Like, the Monitor once said they were compelled to do this, demon kind was. Are you forced to help? Whos forcing you? God?

The Hosts smile turned pitying. Alas. All most excellent questions. But we cannot divulge answers before the apposite time. Suffice to say that I am here because you summoned me, and am happy to help you within the scope of my abilities and the limitations placed upon me by circumstances. I know this to be frustrating, but what can I do? We are all slaves to exigencies. Be glad, lord, that we angels are here to aid you. I can state with confidence that your ultimate success would be beyond your reach were it not for our help. Help that is willingly and happily given. Now, may I provide that help?

Sure, said James, trying not to sound surly.

Very well. Let us clarify the matters at hand. The nature of the Hopeless Tower is one of bafflement and loss. While you possess potent Benedictions, this is not a question of illusion so much as refinement of purpose. The Tower reacts to you, changing about you as your go, obfuscating the true path. This golden mote shall guide you and force the Tower to reveal its secrets.

The Host lifted his hand and from his palm a coin of glowing light floated forth.

Follow it, and all shall be well. The Host bowed. Good luck, lord. I wish you success in your endeavors.

Youre leaving already?

The Host looked surprised. We have rendered service, and are not constant companions. If you have need, you must summon us again. Goodbye.

And with that the angel drew the golden seam in the air once more, parted it in twain, stepped through, and was gone.

The golden seam closed, and as with the archangel, began to fade away from view.

Frustration seized James by the throat. Something about the angels tone, its glib manner, its ease and confidence galled him, aroused his anger.

James darted forward and slid his fingers inside the golden seam. It vibrated about his hands, seeking to close and disappear.

James? Jellys dismay was obvious. James, what are you doing?

James grimaced and wrenched at the seam. It wasnt a question of strength but spiritual will. With his Spiritual Exaltation and Mental Dominion he sought to leverage the seam back open.

But he wasnt strong enough. The seam tightened, threatening to cut off his fingers.

Panicked, unsure as to what he was doing, he activated his Demiplane, placing the entrance right over the seam.

The vertical light glitched, threw off sparks, and for a moment a doorway tried to appear, the entrance to Hermans bar.

In that second the power behind the seam weakened. James thrust open the angelic portal, shouldered past the entrance to his demiplane, and forced himself through.