Chapter 827 – All Silent In The West

What every Divine theory does not acknowledge is the weight of the individual Divine. Granted, we are talking in relatives here, and I am also biased in this regard, because I am one of the oldest beings on this planet and naturally, I do believe I have changed. And if I have not changed, then I have at least improved in what I do. When I formed, I was no duellist, that was not even learned in the Age of Monsters, although there, I did learn to fight and I know that some of the foundation remains. And granted, we talk of humans in this same way. Humans die if they fall out of planes, that is the general rule. Yet we have had the odd exception where someone fell more than a hundred metres and survived.

Is this supposed to prove that humans can survive falling out of planes? No. It proves nothing. It is an aberrant exception. And likewise, too many rules of Divinity are applied to the class that sits at the top: the class of aberrant exceptions. And even then, I do not think that many of those rules are true in the start, or rather, they seemingly the most important rule of Ardan Divinity. It is one that we don’t even dispute.

Divinity is the incarnation of the human consciousness, and it carries with it, at all times, human consciousness. Naturally, of course it would be the Goddess of Love that writes about this, however it is important. Whereas we carry our demesnes, we still carry our humanity, and there are some parts of humanity that did not need to be taught:

Every Divine knows what a home is, and no matter how much we pretend not to, it is only natural that we long for one. Every Divine instinctually knows what a family is, and likewise, we long in our yearning for it. There are some things that are so intrinsic to humanity that they are merely passed onto us. Whereas the answer is simple, and utterly unsatisfying to the likes of Maisara or Elassa, who will no doubt take issue with it, I do have an answer as to how Divinity has no accidentally destroyed this world yet in a display of power.

Fundamentally, one way in which we are the same to humanity, is that we all love Arda.

- Excerpt from “Bitter Gardens”, written by Goddess Helenna, of Love.

Etala marched, McGregory behind her. The man tried slowing down the moment she told him of the plan. Johnson besides him, Seth behind them. A trio of utter swine that had only joined this government in the past week. Their names were only learned because they were apparently her government-appointed handlers. Etala utterly hated them, the Goddess of Democracy should not be having handlers assigned to her. That was what Epan monarchies did, not this land.

So Etala marched into the meeting room where she knew that President Armhoff was about to start hosting a meeting on the Imperial situation, and she did not care if the presidential guard tried to stop her, or if she was denied entry. “GODDESS! PLEASE WAIT!” McGregory called out as Etala pushed the huge double doors of the meeting room ajar and stormed in.

It was a standard presidential meeting, complete with camera crews broadcasting live on the decision of the office. Those camera crews were exactly why Etala had waited, she did not want this to be a private talk. The room fell silent when a Goddess half again the height of everyone else in the room suddenly stormed in. She walked through the centre of the room, Armhoff tried to recover quickly: “And now, Goddess Etala.” It would be obvious on her expression that she was not going to be silenced today.

“I have an announcement to make.” Etala declared as she got to the front of the scene. Armhoff retreated from the stage, and waved the presidential guard away. No one would come to intercept a Divine though. Etala had seen how Arascus dealt with people himself, she tried to channel all the energy he had into her posture. “And it is important.” She stared directly at the cameras.

“The Empire is under attack.” Etala said. “That is known. No matter what happens to the Empire, there is a greater issue at hand, and that is the Million Man Miracle. If the Empire falls, then within six months, Arda is wiped out. No matter what is said in this room, or what speeches have been prepared, or what your private thoughts are, it does not matter. Your opinion, today, is not important. I will say it in the simplest way possible.”

“If the Empire falls, then Arda falls. And if Arda falls, we all die.” She let the silence sit. Armhoff obviously was going to go down another route. If the idiot actually thought that she would let the UNN stand out of this current conflict, he was mistaken. He had been mistaken already, they should be stripping every mineral out of the world and sending it to the Empire right now, to aid in their lattice construction. Etala stood there, breathed heavily in front of the crowd, and realised that she had no more plan than this. “I will aid them however I can.”

Her entire walk here had been just pumping herself up for that single moment of defiance. She had an entire speech prepared. It was one thing to shout at the ministers in private and break a table. It was another entirely to declare what was effectively insurrection against the will of the nation she marched for. Maybe the Epan Divines had it easier, maybe they were just of a different breed. And what now?

What now indeed? She did the only thing she could think of. Etala, the Goddess of Democracy, brought out her phone and scrolled to Arascus name. She put it on loudspeaker, so that the entire room could listen in. And she rang. And the phone buzzed. And if Arascus did not answer now, then she would flee this room.

The God of Pride answered. “Hello.” Arascus replied. “Busy time.” As if to prove his point, there was gunfire from the other side of the phone-call. The sound of small calibres, of cannon fire, of explosions and the hum of blades came through.

“Arascus.” Etala said, staring down the silent room. Faces turned pale, mouths fell open, eyes went wide as they watched their very own Goddess ring the man who was either persona non grata or the greatest example of statehood in the world, depending on who was asked. “I assume you’re busy now.”

“Turn on Imperia and go to Pheonix Nest live if you want to see. What is the issue?” Etala blinked and then lowered her phone. She took a moment.

“You’re streaming it live?”

“It is victory or death.” Arascus said. “So we either die, or the victory is for all to see.” That was the sort of arrogant, simplistic logic she could not argue with. Etala stared at the room of politicians, at their horrified faces and she found herself looking at cowardly dogs. People should have more backbone. More… They should be like Arascus. They should be like the Empire. She was sure that the God of Pride did not have to stare at such personifications of gormlessness.

“Turn on the screen and go to Imperia!” Etala ordered and then picked up her phone. “Arascus, I am ringing…” What was she ringing for? She had no plan. She was ringing for what exactly? To give support? She didn’t even have a united nation behind her. And then she looked at the faces in the crowd, blue suits all, still stunned, no one moving. “Arascus. I want to help.” There. That is what she wanted to do, and she wanted to be told how to do it. “AND SOMEONE TURN ON THE DAMN SCREEN!” That kicked the one of the assistants into action.

One of the clerks in the office pulled out a remote and turned one the screen behind Etala, she turned and watched as the man opened the browser and searched up Imperia. The website had been reconstructed, or maybe not and it was another marker of that terrible Imperial efficiency: Empire under attack! Was the banner. A scrolling bar in the bottom was mid-way through reading off headlines: Hallin’s industrial centre struck by the Skysplitter – Goddess Fer repels Zawitz assault – Aris is secured! – Tull is secured!

A list loaded on the right side of the page: We are currently experiencing heavy load: please wait. A moment later, the names of city’s started appearing. Aris: Secured. Ilan: Secured (Gate Open), Ologna: Under Attack. It went on until a scroll bar appeared. Another feature loaded: Live Broadcasts. “They’re fucking broadcasting it live.” Someone in the room muttered. Of course they were. Then the actual text loaded: Local administrative orders can be found here: With a link to an Imperial website from their military. Stay within your homes whilst the invasion is being repelled if you are in a major urban area. Stay away from areas marked on this map: (link), if possible, try to head to the countryside. Reports will be broadcast on Imperia as soon as they are available, your local administration is the second fastest source.

The videos page only then loaded. “How do I help?” Etala asked Arascus. The God of Pride remained silent for a moment. The clerk who was navigating the screen called out to Etala.

“Should I turn on Pheonix Nest?!” She gave the man a thumbs up as the entire room stared on in trembling silence of the worst sort. At this point, it was real, it was undeniable. They were sitting here, arguing about do’s and don’ts and red lines which could not be crossed as the Empire burned. And if it burned to ash, then no amount of their discussions would amount to anything. The lattice project could not be allowed to fall.

“I don’t organise this Etala.” Arascus said. The screen flicked, turned black, a buffering circle came online. A moment later, it loaded. The camerawork itself was shaky, as if the crew filming were moving around constantly. They most likely were frankly. And Etala almost dropped her phone when she watched it.

Men running about on the ground, a massive wall of earth and stone above with Arascus floated. That large figure, silhouetted entirely, had to be him. Even higher behind was a wall of gold that constantly spewed out a rain of steel and silver. Spears and swords and scimitars and everything that had an edge which could slice would darken the sky momentarily whenever Arascus found a target and launched an overwhelming wave of weaponry towards it.

Jets spiralled around the sky, diving in, launching missiles then pulling away before they got into range of the angel’s counterattacks. The only two that descended where the Raptors, everyone on Arda knew of them. Captain Erik and Captain Douglas were home-grown Imperial legends after all. Everyone knew of the two pilots, almost every boy had a picture of the pair. Even in the UNN, they weren’t despised. The Raptors would descend and make ridiculous, physics defining turns as if they were real birds and not massive aircraft, rolling and spinning through the swarm of angels that had descended onto Phoenix nest, before angling themselves upwards and blasting away with all the speed of a space-shuttle aiming to leave the atmosphere.

The room fell silent as swearing, cries, orders, explosions, gunfire, jet engines launching, ground and soil back down to the surface and everything else filled it. The man holding the remote turned the volume down. The camera zoomed around as the man holding it began to run away. And then, Etala saw exactly why she was doing this. Lattices hovering in the distance, moving away over the horizon.

Black marks sailing as high as they could from the sky, to steadily moving away. A few angels were chasing them, a swarm of Imperial jets was moving in to intercept. Here, the Empire was going no holds barred. There were mages in the air, already forming communions and casting spells to intercept the attackers. Individual sorcerers that spun around like hornets twirling through the air. The jets themselves were engaging close and hard, shooting off missiles and letting out bursts with their autocannons. And they were barely holding on.

A jet exploded before their eyes. The entire chassis was crumpled by an invisible force, and then it fell to the ground. Etala mumbled a curse to herself, the room seemingly forgot to breathe as they all stared. And whatever it was within Etala that wanted to smack these people now wanted to kill them. Here they were, sitting on the other side of the world, arguing on whether they should help and join the battle to save their world. It was despicable. Shameful. Just the worst behaviour imaginable.

The camera spun back around as the man filming jumped behind a rock. For a moment, they stared just at grass. Then stone. Then he finally got the bravery to keep recording the battle. More angels spewed from the portal, and Arascus sent even more blades underneath, ripping them apart with the storm of steel. “I’ll send everything I can.”

“You do that.” Arascus said. “Ring the foreign office and send men over.” He dropped the call. Etala watched for a moment later, then spun back around to the utter cowards behind her.

“THAT!” Etala raised her voice. “IS WHAT THEY ARE FACING!” It came out in a scream, she didn’t really care. “AND WHAT ARE WE DOING?!”

“Goddess!” Someone screamed out. “But there’s procedure!”

“I DO NOT CARE!” Etala shouted back. “Stay and rot. I will organise relief efforts myself, if you do not.” If saving this planet required breaking every single damn rule in the book, then she would break every single damn rule.