Chapter V - Brimstone

[TennyoCeres84]

Nereus' half-addled tirade didn't make the selkie shrink back and turn plaintive on him. He might recognize the old spark in his wife's eyes, as his words had ignited her centuries-long aggravation at her own failings. A reactive gust of wind blew the food and dishes off the table, as though it responded to her wish to have his complete and full attention.

She remained standing and narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm real, alright, Nereus, an' Chambers can go suck on his feckin', goddamned throat sac!" she spat with a returning lilt, her teeth bared and small arcs of electricity appearing around her fists. "Believe me, I wish I could've done all o' what you jus' said, so I could free ye from this cage ye're livin' in! Archmages are nae gods, an' I've been playin' bloody whack-a-mole for th' past four centuries o'er thwartin' plots, doomsday scenarios, an' tryin' to put a feckin' dent in Darlarath's slave trade!"

She eyed him squarely and hit the table with her fist, leaving a solid scorch mark as angry tears welled up in her eyes. "I cannae blame ye for th' trouble we had years ago! How can I, when I should've been payin' attention to that connivin' bastard all along! I know he forged yer writin' to make it look like you betrayed me, an' I know whose soul he shoved into Chauncey's body, when he was nothin' more than a few days old! "

"Ye're right in that I am a doer, love, but I'm also a tactician! You have no idea how many times I would've loved to swoop in from on high an' rend the Chamberlain an' every Loyalist in my path into pieces an' save ye! I can do many things, but I required numbers to at least have a chance against th' Others! That takes time an' avoidin' death several other times after th' first an' only exemption! I have allies from Heaven, Hell, the mortal plane, Faerie and even other Void Weavers, an' I know we're facin' an uphill war! Shootin' fireballs and lightnin' is all well an' good, but bein' a doer also requires diplomacy an' patience."

She defiantly arched a brow at him. "Ye know something? I came exceedingly close to offin' Chambers back in the 1600s; I certainly killed several of your best Arbiters of the time! I don't know what happened afterwards, but he should've at least returned with severe electrical burns! That bitch Amaxi can pull a lot of tricks, but he should've had extensive burns to recover from. He might've tried to play it off as something else, but that was me! I was in full Newborn Archmage mode, an' he still escaped! That's what I've been up against!"

Her arms dropped to her sides. Her ire deflated somewhat as she did her best to calm herself, and she spoke more softly, "I could go on with many examples, but right now, I'm actually in the Darkhallow after what feels like forever since I was here with Delmar! I wanted to actually reach here and tell you I was alive, but I can't without a Void Weaver to piggyback off of. I'm here now, though, and I'm extremely sorry I couldn't reach you until now and for everything you've had to suffer through for centuries. I could never blame you for all that has happened because you are only one person, and I know you've spent a very long time fighting against Chambers' machinations and Amaxi's insidiousness."

"I found your recording you made in 1825, and I followed your instructions to Point Dume with Cailean and my friends. I also never judged you for your weight, Nereus. I know you wouldn't be in this shape if you could help it, but I'm aware of the barrage you're put through constantly. Another thing? I still love you, after all of this..."

Whill she might've seemed like a perfect match for the Chamberlain's creations, the necklace he had given her was still distinctly different from the original. It still had the original Void Weaver metalworking, but the the sword and staff charms, made by Ereshkigal, stood out as having another artist's touch. Additionally, the Court's ring would have been another item of note.

[IamLEAM1983]

Nereus' temper went from what seemed like contempt for one of Chambers' created shades of Meris to what seemed like a mixture of relief, infatuation - and birthing horror. Seeing his wife in the full regalia of her status as an Archmage, and bearing the marks of an Heiress of Solomon, he hurriedly stood up and stepped away.

"Oh no," he whispered, eyes wide, "no! I'd - I'd almost forgotten about that plan! Chambers - he's placed those armed projections, and if one so much as sees you, he'll come running! I can't beat him, and even if you managed it, I wouldn't be free physically!"

Aidan's voice was filled with more steel than usual. "You can't break a prisoner free if you don't open the cell, first. The prison break? That'll come later."

He stepped into view, his own appearance having also changed, like Meris'. He now wore dark camo pants and combat boots, along with a white wife beater bearing the shape of his sword-carrying sigil, the mark that was tatooed on his back. Something surprisingly close to Eirean's faintly shimmering scales was visible in mirrored patches along his arms, and his pupils had changed. Now they were slightly more oblong than a cat's slits; looking like the eyes of Void Weavers having been born out of generations spent on the surface.

"If this place reflects you," he said, "you'll feel what we've planted in there."

Nereus shook his head. "No, no, no - Gods, no - why am I the only one who sees how hopeless we all are? You should be focusing on the Goat, saving yourselves from Hell's imminent threat, and you're wasting time on me! I thought you'd know better, Drake!
- That's what we're doing," retorted the soldier. "Only, we can't cover for California and the West Coast. There's dozens of superteams across the country that are only starting to get a measure of Hell's threat. Chambers can believe you're pushing back against Hell to later enthrall the rubes, for all I care - what matters is we need you to save lives."

Archie stepped forward, now looking very much like himself, if someone had buffed his brass plates to the point of acheiving a mirror-like sheen and oiled his wooden frame to perfection. "I've known my fair share of objectionable commanders in my time, good sir. That said, I've never met a man such as yourself, so willing to shoulder blames that aren't yours to begin with. Are you a monster, Xenophon Thanos, or are you willing to prove yourself as a hero? I've spent weeks hearing of this Nereus Marinos character from Aidan and Meris; I should very much like to meet him."

Nereus swept his gaze across the small group. "What can I do? I'm spent! All my meditation classes, all my PR stunts - they're at least good for keeping me level-headed - but I can barely access anything other than this place, now! Amaxi is leaving me and moving onto Chambers; my powers are waning!"

Eir walked in, hair ablaze, skin milky-white and iridescent, a loose white blouse over tight green leather pants. Her own feline eyes slowly blinking as she handed the Augur a picture frame. "You don't need the bitch," she said. "You've got the Architect, God, Pandemonium, Summer and Winter on your side."

The frame held a photograph Meris and Nereus had looked at, peered at, several times. It was of their motley group, decades or years from now, seated at a table. They'd obviously celebrated someone's birthday, the faces having changed as others had joined Holden Hall's efforts. Meris and Nereus took up a corner of the table and beamed at the camera, Nereus looking like he'd been caught laughing at someone's joke. Delmar was there - seemingly in the flesh. The cameraman hadn't been able to catch everyone looking forward, so the backs of a few heads could be seen. Abdiel's, Aislinn's, Matriel's…

A few had disappeared from the image, however. Jenkins was nowhere to be seen, and so was Hauser. The promise of this photograph was the same as ever, despite that. Someday, they'd know peace. From Nereus' perspective, what mattered most was that both Meris and himself would.

Forward came Cuthbert and Anjali. He'd draped himself in a full suit of armor, minus the helmet, while the girl still looked much like herself. Still, she didn't simply walk over to Nereus - she flew to him, much like a smaller version of Hope's own Ethan Alderan.

"All you have to do," she said, hovering close to him at eye level, "is trust yourself, for once. You've been sad for so long, mister Nereus. This has to stop.
- I've never studied the White Speech!" weakly objected the Augur. That got Delmar to step out of the kitchen, dressed in the white robes of his ancient office.

"Then with the Celestial Engines as my witnesses, we'll teach you. We'll take that spark, that creative spirit, and we'll forge you into the ruler you've always known you could be."

Belief - and hope - were now tiny, fragile sparks in the dark expanses of the Augur's eyes. He looked back to Meris and scoffed, love and astonishment flowing out of that simple sound.

"You're absolutely insane, Meris - and I love you for it. A little extra push, and I think I'd believe you."

[TennyoCeres84]

Meris smiled encouragingly to her husband. " I know you didn't have the resources back when you were writing down the concepts that spawned from that creative mind of yours, but I daresay that they are similar to what the Gentlemen use. It's a dialect akin to theirs, so you're certainly capable of learning the White Speech. I know you can do it, Nereus," she promised, fiercely grasping his hand.

Neasa had joined the older selkie at her side, clad in the ultramarine and black bodysuit she donned while in Hell. "Meris has talked about so much about you, so I, Ciaran, and Aislinn, consider you to be part of our family. I want to help you succeed in your efforts so you can be with us on a permanent basis."

The Archmage sent her great-granddaughter a beaming smile and then looked back at the Augur. "As for the plan, how do we see it through with your resolve?" she inquired, holding off from retrieving the Key-Nereus in order to see if he was completely ready to proceed.

[IamLEAM1983]

Nereus' eyes and tentacles quivered at Neasa's words, half a sob and a grin forming in his features. "A family," he choked out, "I - I'd stopped daring to believe in-"

He couldn't finish. Three nodded knowingly. "As soon as our slate's clear, we're looking for your son. I'm starting to get a sense of your species, Nereus, and you guys aren't the type to throw something like the soul of the Augur's son away. As for the body..."

The Augur snorted and sniffled, finding enough balance to stand on his own two feet after having leaned on the wall. "No. I won't let you search for him, Aidan. We need you ready. You can't afford to pussyfoot around Nikolaas Buck; you'll need to position yourselves to strike as soon as you'll have the ability to do so."

Bucky, who looked much like a fully-maintained version of his own self, nodded. "So you know who he is, what identity he's taken."

Nereus acquiesced. "I can tell you, but not here. Chambers will know as soon as you'll give me my resolve back. He's already in the Darkhallow and some of his own projections are planted here. He'll manifest here in the instant I show signs of recovery; I can't make it too obvious. If you confront him, he'll know I've changed. He'll simply banish most of you, leave you to wake up - and deal with Meris on his own terms. I can't allow that."

Vernon frowned. "You already seem to be on the mend; why isn't our illustrious friend here yet?"

Nereus shook his head in vague annoyance. "Tokens matter, in here. There's a difference between sensing we might have some sort of chance and holding - physically holding - the full embodiment of your confidence of centuries past. One is a polite chime, the other is a full-blown orchestra. It's not just about recreating trinkets, it's about weaving together coalesced forms of hopes, dreams, desires - or fears."

Three seemed a bit puzzled. "Then why can't we pummel him with the worst fear he has, while we're in here? Why can't we make him think Amaxi's scorned him?"

The Augur shook his head in quiet dismay. "You can't. I know how it works, I was a zealot for Harrogath in my youth. Falling out of grace isn't just something you can fake, Aidan. Believe me, I've tried. When Amaxi elects you, you feel it in every fiber of your being. When She abandons you..."

He then gestured to his own exhausted, puffy features as proof of it. That done, he looked back to Meris.

"I had a dream, a few months ago," he said. "It was a calling from a power I hadn't trained with. I felt it as a... physician, of sorts. Green-skinned, strangely proper. I knew it as it appeared; it mastered health and disease - both plague and cure. It told me you would come bearing a gift, along with a weapon I could use. It asked me to rent a P.O. box in Calistoga, under the name of Joseph Lister. Someone I trust can deliver that pillbox of yours to me. Azorthagal showed me their face and how to win them over."

He stepped closer to Meris, now. "I can spike Chambers' food, Meris. I can get close enough - safely."

[TennyoCeres84]

Meris nodded affirmatively. "You're right in that Azorthagal gave me a poison of sorts, in exchange for exorcising a minor demon that had taken his name and healed the patient down to a manageable level. It'll prove useful when it comes time to free you, as it'll make Chambers sicker than he could've ever possibly imagined. The Physician also noted that you'll need new sponsorship, either the Architect or God."

Seeing as how he seemed ready to regain his resolve, she ventured back to the kitchen and pulled the key out of the drawer. "In your recording, I know you said to bury this deep in the heart of Point Dume, but I have no idea where that would be."

[IamLEAM1983]

Nereus looked away for a second, as he reminisced on his own words, and then shook his head slightly. "Of course," he said, seeming to remember, "I assumed I'd fall so low as to attack you. It certainly felt that way at the time; Chambers kept me under a constant barrage of threats real and imagined for generations, once we reached the surface. I probably sensed I'd fall prey to him in some way."

He looked down on himself. "I guess it'd be fair to say I have, stuck as I am in remembering a more innocent decade..."

He looked down on the seemingly ordinary key Meris held. "Chambers wasn't the heart of this house, neither were its guests. I was."

Taking a few steps away from the Archmage, he removed his jacket and unbuttoned his vest, then undoing his shirt's first four buttons. He lightly pulled it open, keeping the outer curve of his soft pectorals covered. Closer to the sternum and slightly removed from the heart's side, grayish veins seemed to snake into view under his skin, growing and stretching in the shape of a keyhole. The darkness of some unseen hollow space stretched out beyond it, as if Nereus were some strange hybrid of Clank and organic being.

"I'll need time to fully recover," he then reminded his love. "I can do something about threats to the West Coast, use some of Renewal's programs to open our resource vaults to the public. I won't be able to save everyone, but I can keep a few hundred thousand from harm. It's Chambers and Amaxi that'll force me to wait; I need him weakened and distracted before I can call for help - or before you extract me from this hellhole."

Three nodded. "The Goat might mess with your timetable, considering.
- He will," concurred Nereus, "but I can finally start hoping again. It's no longer a question of centuries or decades, Aidan - just weeks, if Hell doesn't force us all back into the Stone Age.
- What can you do to ensure Chambers does not enthrall your various bunkers' residents?" asked Archie. That got the Augur to part with a knowing, if exhausted smile.

"He's only one man, and the weakness of his operation is that we're the only two Weavers in it. There's no-one else to spread the Black Speech. If Hell can force him to refocus on matters of survival, I can ensure he'll postpone indoctrinating those people I'll work on saving. If they leave with me and see what my people are truly capable of," he said, looking back to Delmar, "then he'll lose access to these faithful."

[TennyoCeres84]

"Of course, love, and I'll be waiting until you can be freed," Meris whispered softly, placing the key into the organic keyhole. She gently turned it to the left, as though he were a Clank in need of a revitalizing turning of his soul's gears. At the same time, the Consort embraced him and pressed her lips against his mouth, the gesture more tender than passionate. It seemed like she as a pilgrim returning to a sacred place as she gave his resolve back to him with all the hope and love that she had in her.

[IamLEAM1983]

That same tenderness was returned, as light warmth began to radiate between Nereus and Meris. As he kissed her, the Augur was enveloped by faint white light, barely enough to obscure his features. A distant note rang out, like the echo of some anvil struck long ago. The light dissipated, leaving behind a man who looked much like the shade of his past resolve. This wasn't the sapient shade they'd spoken with, however, as Nereus' eyes were different. They were still haunted by his past failings, still gleaming with sorrows that would only now find material enough to heal - but there was a quiet sort of joy in them. Daylight seemed to invisibly radiate outwards from him, the baywindows behind him now showing the cliffs in the daytime, under faint cirrus clouds. The dining room's other windows were still drenched in rainy gloom, but daylight seemed to eat at it like antibiotics at a swarm of bacteria.

Seconds later, another alarm rang out. Voices were dimly heard, partially covered in the crackling of walkie-talkies. 

"Asset compromised. I repeat: asset compromised. Notifying administrator. Return to your stations."

Nereus held Meris at arm's length with both hands. There was a bit of urgency in his voice, but confidence was an emerging factor, as well. "You have to leave," he told her. "The wider world matters more now than our happiness. You've given me enough to endure and lay out plans, and now we'll be able to meet every night, where we used to."

He briefly hugged her again. "I'm not letting you run away again, Meris. Not ever. I'm letting you run forward, and I'll be behind you every step of the way. Soon, I'll behold all of your might in person."

Nereus then reached back and gestured at the windows, the sunlight's purifying efforts immediately stopping. Gloom and rain returned, Nereus' extra pounds and retro attire were restored - but they were both illusions, now. He sighed, as if to steady himself. "I think I'll settle for a good cry and some meditation, tonight," he mused. "You have to run, if you're to save us. I can't have important personages like yourselves lectured by someone like Chambers," he said, smirking sardonically.

"I doubt we'd survive the sheer boredom," noted Archie, which allowed the Augur to let out a short guffaw. He quickly stopped himself, looking faintly embarrassed, then shrugged the matter aside happily.

"I needed that," he said. "I needed that like I'll need a few hours' worth of dumb comedies once this blows over."

[TennyoCeres84]

"Enjoy them for what they're worth, and I'll see you soon," Meris said to him, smiling fondly.

She then turned to the rest of them and mused, "I don't think taking the same way back through the Black Library will work. Chambers will probably have Prelates and Arbiters possibly waiting there for us. We need another route out of here."

"Could the Curator know of another way? He seems like he has a thorough enough knowledge of the DarkHallow to allow us to slip through, if he's still here," Neasa suggested, looking around for the peculiar entity.

[IamLEAM1983]

"If he's smart," supplied Nereus, "we won't have followed you here."

He looked back towards the kitchen. "Pick the old industrial freezer; it's big enough to fit all of you. Just picture its door leading someplace else, and it will.
- I say we gotta wake ourselves up," added Bucky. "I'm not comfortable stickin' around while our stogie-chompin' buddy is still in La-La Land with us."

Delmar nodded. "I agree. We could use a few hours of uptime after this. We've other problems to tackle and I'm not keen on Chambers picking up Meris' mental signature again. Nereus can link up again with her as much as he wants once we'll actually be in bed."

As awkward and urgent as the situation, Nereus was a gracious host and followed the group back inside the kitchen. "I haven't looked forward to going to bed like this in a long, long time," he told Meris. "The very idea that I'll get to spend another small eternity with you after so long - to feel myself in healthier shape, to recapture a bit of what we lost..."

He grinned and sighed. "If you can be terrified in a good way, then that's what I am, right now. It's Christmas come early, fittingly enough."

* * *

The Karthian physician performing last-minute observations on Aspasia was a bit of an anomaly, being a first-generation alien immigrant with gray skin going on purple and a rather clipped Received English Pronunciation accent. Most first-gen Grayskins spoke with a choppiness fitting of the Caucasus, thanks to Anastasius Romanov's past - but this one didn't. His Vincent Price-worthy thin-stache looked to have been the work of early hair grafts, along with the impossibly crisp crown of black hair he sported. Having been America's first alien superhero in the thirties, Mentalor - naturalized as Martin Loren - had had a storied run alongside Sterling Starr, Hermes, Arachnea and Amazo. He'd often butted his impressively large cranium against Doctor Cerebro's machinations and had largely spent the Battle of Hope with a mental waveform projection tiara strapped to his head, playing a multifaceted game against the invaders' orbital weapons and their AI subroutines.

He'd never made the cut for the Archontate back on Telor and had been passed over for what had then seemed to be a certifiable madman. His had always been a logical mind - not exactly dispassionate, but not exactly given to matters of the heart, either. A skilled telepath and surprisingly decent empath, he'd spent decades reaping the fruits of an intellect some publications had measured in the high triple digits. Martin Loren was a certifiable genius, a Renaissance man, a dangerously capable individual...

And he was bored. Bored enough to leave cape-wearing shenanigans behind in the late seventies and flit from job to job, finally landing in 2025 as Hope General's largely unsung specialist on designer xenobiologies and nanite-assisted cortical stimulation. To him, Aspasia Robertson had never not been ordinary.

"Perfect bill of health," he said, "no nystagmus, no astigmatism, myopia or cataracts," he said, closing his pad. "You might as well have been squeezed out of the decanter yesterday. You're a perfect candidate for that Optogenetics-based patch we discussed; I could jam an ice pick in one of your eyeballs that I wouldn't so much as dent the cornea."

Coach winced. "Let's not do that, doc. I lost my own eyeballs centuries ago and just the idea of Asp here ending up with more nanites being jammed down her optic nerve is... Well, let's just say that if I had skin, it'd be crawling."

Loren looked at the lich as if he were a child. "Or we can burn hundreds of thousands of your mister Rothchild's dollars and stick with dermal pads, hope that the buggers find their way to their intended payload and don't just end up pooling in her colon and bladder. Then, if a fraction of the patched payloads reaches her cerebral cortex, you'll be the proud husband of the owner of a half-assed mental shield intended to repel assaults the likes of which I've barely begun to diagnose in people, much less treat."

The lich's eye sockets furrowed. "Why don't you sound Russian or Ukranian, by the way?"

Martin rolled his eyes under his thick brow. "Romanov's first-generation toadies tied and gagged me inside a failing stasis pod and threw me on a path across the Milky Way. I woke up just in time to break free and assume control of the spacecraft, and then crash-landed near Roswell, New Mexico. Radio serials and the kind and considerate hands of the United States' Army did the rest."

Coach picked up on the sarcasm. "Sheesh," he said. "Sorry, I guess...
- You're not the first to apologize, and you won't be the last," replied Loren. "Not that I mind: you Earthlings are feckless barbarians, but you're my feckless barbarians. What you lack in generalized psionic potential, you make up for in vibrancy and self-confidence."

The lich quirked an eyebrow at the almost Joker-worthy suit that waited under the doctor's blouse, bright purple over seafoam greens with a fob watch chain made of something that was too iridescent to be regular metal. Being a telepath, Loren caught the subtext and tsked.

"It's for the children and the childish; you wouldn't believe how many people fake a migraine in this town, just to get a chance to be examined by Mentalor, the Great and Powerful," he said, adding a self-aware and sardonic sideways glance. "Besides, boldness works when you've inherited the case of a misdiagnosed malignant brain tumor originating out of nanite payloads gone rampant - people still listen to whomsoever has enough guts to make this kind of fashion statement work. The Magnus fellow, Xenophon Thanos, your Harrison Arkham - your Karl Lagerfelds and Jean-Paul Gaultiers fantasize about men and women like these."