Chapter 37 Return
The RetroStyle™ digital alarm clock was a unique appliance in that it did exactly what its name implied. It didn’t have a built-in scheduling and calendar app, it didn’t connect to the internet to pull up the weather forecast, nor did it employ complex algorithms to determine the optimal resting time of its user. It was literally just a battery-powered black box that told the time and made jarring beeping noises at predetermined hours - no more, and no less. Sure, it sometimes broke down or reset for no reason, but that was part of its authentic charm. On this particular day, one specific RetroStyle™ digital alarm clock fulfilled its duties without fail, and blared with a harsh, ear-ripping tone at exactly 7:00 AM.
Said device was then slapped hard enough to send it flying off of the nightstand it was resting on and onto the floor of the bedroom. This violent gesture had the desired effect of shutting the bloody thing up, much to its owner’s relief. And then, five minutes later, the clock started beeping once more, forcing the user to roll out of bed in order to reach over and properly disable it instead of just ‘hitting snooze.’ Grumbling incoherently yet decidedly awake, the man had little choice but to forego the comfort of his own bed and face the new day. He did so as per usual - by greeting the girl sitting completely still in the corner of the room.
“Morning, Maggie,” Joe yawned. “Hope you had a good night, mine was rough.”
She looked at him, but did not respond.
“Yeah, I know, I know. I was just so nervous about today that I couldn’t fall asleep. So weird how that works.”
She stared at him, but did not respond.
“Oh, right. Jeeves?”
The robo-butler in question drifted through the open bedroom droom.
“Yes, Master Mulligan?”
“Put the kettle on, will you?”
“Of course, sir. Shall I prepare breakfast as well?”
“Please do.”
“The usual?”
“No, today’s a special day. Break out the expensive starberry jam.”
“Very good, sir.”
The automated custodian nodded its camera-like head and hovered down the hall and into the kitchen.
“I know it’s a waste,” he turned back to Maggie, “but I’ll be damned if I don’t let you live at least a little.”
She watched him, but did not respond.
“Oh! Silly me. Almost forgot about your most loyal minion.”
Joe reached for the nightstand drawer and pulled out a small plastic box that rattled slightly with every motion. Opening the lid revealed it was half-full of brown-green pellets no bigger than a thumbnail. He grabbed three of them, put the box back in its place, and walked over to the terrarium resting on the windowsill. Azgod’kalar raised its little head and looked up expectantly with its beady eyes. Joe carefully balanced one of the pellets on his fingertip and presented it to the orb python. The diminutive serpent sprang forward and snatched the treat with its tiny fangs, gobbling it up in the blink of an eye. The same happened for the other two pellets.
“There you go,” Joe chuckled. “C’mere, let’s put you in your place.”
He reached down once more, presenting his up-turned palm to the snake. Azgod’kalar did not hesitate or shy away, but instead slithered onto it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Joe then carried it over to Maggie and gently placed the orb python on her bare shoulder. It curled up in a manner befitting the name of its genetically engineered species, looking absolutely content as it very slowly digested its meal in its favorite seat.
“I always wondered whether Azgod’kalar was supposed to grow or not,” he addressed Maggie once more. “Kind of glad he hasn’t, though. He’s way cuter like this. Like a little leathery noodle.”
She briefly gazed at the snake, but did not respond.
“… Yeah.”
The man finally got about getting dressed. He wasn’t particularly in a hurry, so he took his time and occasionally made a one-sided comment towards the passive observer. Once he was properly dressed he did a quick set of twenty push-ups. It wasn’t enough to make him sweat, but plenty to wake up his still-sleeping muscles. He made a point to not slack in his physical training while Maggie’s mind was away, and it showed. It was extremely difficult to believe he’d transformed from that living stick figure he used to be into the well-built hunk he was right now through entirely natural means. Well, aside from those nutritional supplements he took on rare occasions.
“Phew. Must be more tired than I thought. I actually got a bit winded there. Ah, well. I’m allowed to slack on special occasions. Right, Maggie?”
She blinked three times, but did not respond.
“Oh, for sure. Anyway, breakfast should be ready by now, so follow me into the kitchen.”
“Affirmative.”
The girl stood and followed Joe out of the room. Her steps were so smooth and silent that the serpent on her shoulder didn’t even seem to notice it was in motion. At least, not until she was instructed to sit down at the table, at which point Azgod’kalar moved to hide underneath her raven hair. As for the meal Jeeves had just finished preparing, it consisted of tea, toast, jam, fried eggs, and grilled sausages - a veritable feast by the average British citizen’s standard. The man ate heartily and with gusto while the girl slowly and methodically processed her portion. He continued to make the occasional casual comment or remark and got nothing but deadpan silence in return.
As breakfast carried on, however, the man’s goofy facade started crumbling like a house of wet biscuits. At one point he gave up the pretense and stared blankly into his mostly empty cup of tea. He missed the real Maggie. By the Queen, how he longed to see her smile and speak for real instead of just giving those monotonous one-word replies. At first just hearing her voice soothed his heart, but these days it had the opposite effect. He felt as if this pathetic little play was the only thing that kept him from completely losing it. No, that wasn’t quite true. He also had the support of his friends and family. The same people who had been looking out for him all his life continued to do so even now, and it was only because of them that he had managed to keep it together for this long.
Joe was a simple bloke, and though he tried to stay strong and look after Maggie’s vessel like he promised, it wasn’t enough. So, much as he promised his father back when he first visited him on that mining station, he had decided to try and take control of his life. That was why he was so nervous about today. He’d put so much time, effort, and money to try and prepare for it. He’d already tried twice, and was met with failure twice. This third time would be different. This time, he would succeed. He had to succeed. He mustered his will, steeled his resolve, and finished the now-cold cup of tea.
“Come with me, Maggie,” he stood abruptly. “We’re heading out.”
“Affirmative.”
Joe quickly put on his jacket, slipped into his sneakers, and shouldered the duffel bag he’d prepared the night before. He left the apartment and made a beeline for the elevator with the girl following in his footsteps. Once inside, they rode it down for precisely three hundred and thirteen floors before getting off. The man strode over to a particular apartment and rang the doorbell without any reservation or hesitation. A minute or two later the door opened up to reveal a massive bald gentleman whose squinting face made it clear he’d only just woken up.
“Blimey, Joe,” Barry grumbled. “You’re up and about early, aren’t you?”
“It’s almost eight, dad.”
“Oh. Oh, bugger. Right, I’ll grab my stuff and be right with you.”
It took several minutes for the senior Mulligan to get ready. When he emerged he was sporting a beat-up old tracksuit that was much more comfortable than it looked. He was carrying a duffel bag much like Joe’s, though it was clear by his constant yawning that he did not share his son’s morning energy.
“I can’t believe you overslept,” the younger man grumbled.
“I can’t believe you didn’t. You kept messaging me until two in the morning last night.”
“Guess I just wake up easier.”
“Must be that annoying alarm you have. Seriously, how does that bloody beeping not drive you nuts every day?”
“I’m just used to it.”
That was an outright lie. The RetroStyle™ digital alarm clock was designed to screech at a frequency that was guaranteed to irritate any human being that heard it. Joe absolutely despised the stupid thing, hence why he did not hesitate to give it a smack every single morning. However, he dared not get rid of it. It was the only clock he found that did not agitate Maggie’s autopilot. All the others he tried either ticked incessantly or gave off a bunch of electronic signals, both of which would cause the girl’s mindless vessel to start moving around the house. Best as the man could tell, she was ‘programmed’ to continue collecting data and would not hesitate to follow whatever random ‘blip’ happened upon her ‘radar.’
Initially Joe did not think this strange habit was much of an issue, especially since she’d listen to him whenever he told her to stop. However, it became apparent something had to be done when he woke up to find Maggie’s body leaning precariously out of the window. Whether the fall would actually hurt her or not was irrelevant. Allowing her to roam freely was irresponsible, and the man couldn’t bring himself to lock her up like an animal. So, he either disabled or got rid of every single wireless device or appliance that might set off her ‘curiosity-killed-the-cat’ mode. That included keeping the VR pods permanently offline.
The only exception to that was Jeeves. He was necessary to properly look after the huge apartment, lest it gather dust. That and the amazing tea he made was one of the few comforts keeping Joe grounded throughout this ordeal. Thankfully, the man was able to have the automaton reprogrammed so he would be Maggie-friendly. It hadn’t been an easy task - or a legal one, for that matter - but the building’s resident robotechs were nevertheless eager to help. That said, Joe knew full well he didn’t actually need Jeeves’ help. He technically didn’t even need that huge apartment. It wasn’t as if Maggie herself required maintenance. Vigilance, yes, but not maintenance. Her physical form’s personal hygiene was always impeccable, to the point where there hadn’t been a need to bathe it or change its clothes even once. It just needed food and water for sustenance, and Noot-Goop could easily provide for both.
He could never put her through that, though. No man wanted to see the girl he loved live with a feeding tube in her face. He treated the vessel like a person, ensuring it got proper meals and rest, and even taking it out on the occasional date. He did this not only for his own sake, but also for Maggie’s. The girl would return eventually, and when she did she would surely assimilate all of her vessel’s memories as quickly as she could, eager to see what she had missed. Joe wanted to welcome her back with years’ worth of love, warmth, and care, so he never once slacked in his boyfriend duties. That said, he never once indulged in carnal desires, nor did he intend to. The one he loved was Maggie, not her body, so the very idea of doing naughty things to it when she wasn’t around was repugnant.
And for a while, that charade hadn’t been a problem. Surely, Joe thought, the girl would be back before he knew it. But then days turned to weeks and weeks to months. He tried to stay strong and resolute, but as the first year since her departure rolled by, dreadful thoughts started to creep into his mind. What if Maggie took so long to return that Joe was an old and frail man? Worse still, what if he died of old age, never to see her again? Should he just stick her in a warehouse somewhere and try to forget about her, move on with his life? Was it better to have loved and lost than to have dwelled on what never should have been? If he did something so cruel and she came back, would she forgive him? And if she did, would he actually be able to look her in the eye? Were eyes even a real thing?
Such were the tortured thoughts that Joe Mulligan had struggled with for half a decade. Today marked the sixth anniversary since he first met Maggie, which meant he’d been waiting for her for over five years. The bloke had grown to somewhat despise this date and the crushing loneliness it brought him, but this instance was different. This year his turmoil would finally come to an end. He kept telling himself that, lest he succumb to the horrible thoughts that were desperate to break him down.
“Joe, are you alright?” Barry asked suddenly. “You’ve been kind of out of it since we got out of the ‘scraper.”
The two of them were walking along the undertown area of mega-city Dave-156. The air down at this lowest level was stuffy, chilly, and perpetually tainted with the faint smell of burning tires. Joe was no stranger to it, and his dad had seen and lived much worse during his labor sentence, so neither of them were particularly bothered by the atmosphere. However, the old man couldn’t help but notice his son had a rather scary look on his face.
“No,” Joe admitted. “I’m not. But I will be.”
“Are you sure you want to go through with this? It’s kind of crazy.”
“For the hundredth time, yes.”
“Alright. Just making sure you’re not doing something you’ll regret.”
“I know. And hey, thanks.”
“For what?”
“For agreeing to do this.”
Barry smiled softly and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“No, thank you for trusting me with it.”
The man’s biggest regret in life was that he couldn’t be there for Joe when he was growing up. Thankfully the boy had lived a perfectly peaceful and uneventful childhood, but his adult life had become turbulent and uneasy. Barry felt fulfilled to finally be able to do his duty as a father and support his son through thick and thin. Though he didn’t agree with all of Joe’s choices and had quite a few reservations about his plans, he wouldn’t dream to refuse aid when it was asked.
“You… did rehearse, right?” the young man warily asked.
“Damn right, I did. So much so that I went blue in the mouth. Your mum almost kicked me out.”
“You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“Of course not. By the Queen, can you imagine her reaction? She’d flip a lid!”
“Heh. Yeah. We’re about to do something very stupid, aren’t we?”
“Affirmative.”
Maggie’s auto-reply caught Joe and Barry unawares. It was easy to forget she was still there given how minuscule her presence was. Still, it was a welcome distraction that helped relieve both Mulligans’ tension. They had calmed down somewhat by the time they neared their destination. They stood in front of a domed metallic structure nestled in the relatively tiny space between hyper-scraper foundations. The building was nevertheless enormous, large enough to house hundreds of people if it were a hotel. Which it blatantly wasn’t. Given the numerous loading bays, conveyor belts, pipelines, and other machinery visible, this place was actually a factory. Or it used to be one, at least. It had been a long time since anything was manufactured here, but it held special meaning to Joe. Just looking at the entryway reminded him of when Maggie was learning to walk for the first time.
“Come on, then,” Barry clapped him on the back. “Let’s get inside and start setting up.”
“Right. Pretty sure Benny and Cullen took care of most of the prepwork already, though.”
“You sure? Those mates of yours don’t strike me as responsible.”
“Trust me, they live for this sort of rubbish.”
Venturing into the hemispherical building’s innermost chamber revealed that Joe’s friends had indeed been busy. All the candles were in place, everyone’s positions were marked, and the centerpiece in the middle looked prime and ready. The blokes themselves were there too, of course. Cullen was still as vertically challenged as ever, but he’d been inspired by Joe’s elevated level of fitness to whip himself into shape over the past five years. As for Benny, he was still the lanky and bald bastard he used to be, having long ago come to terms with his follically-challenged condition.
“Yo, Joe!” they called out in unison.
“Hey,” he waved at them. “Everything alright here?”
“You better believe it,” Benny smirked. “It’s gonna be a right ‘n’ propa bash, this.”
“What about the other members?”
“Most of the lads are out back getting dressed,” Cullen answered. “More importantly, how are you feeling, Joe? How’s the nerves?”
“Y’know, hanging in there.”
“Well, you’re handling it a lot better than last time, at least.”
“To be fair, I’d be pretty shaken myself if I had to do what you gotta do,” Benny winced.
“Ha. How do you think I feel?” Barry chuckled.
“Nah, Mr. M. You got the best bloody job. Wish I could do it.”
“Learn to enunciate properly first, then we’ll see. Anyway,” the dad turned to Joe, “I’ll go get changed and get in the mood.”
“Yeah. Break a leg!”
“Right-o!”
Barry walked off in good spirits, leaving the younger trio in a somewhat heavy silence.
“So, Joe,” Benny spoke up. “About your, uh, ‘special guest.’ She single?”
“Really, Benny? Really?”
“Wot?”
“You do know what her real name is, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So how do you think she handles relationships?”
“Exactly like I’m hopin’ she does.”
“Ugh…” Joe rolled his eyes. “Yes, she’s single.”
“Noice. Back in a bit.”
He then practically jogged away after Barry, a goofy grin on his face.
“He’s gonna get shot down hard, isn’t he?” Cullen shook his head.
“Probably. But hey, you never know. Maggie and I worked out, so he’s technically got a shot.”
“This your idea of working it out?” he nodded at the blank slate in the back.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, yeah. Incidentally, does Maggie happen to have another, slightly less crazy sister?”
“Nope. Just Kelly. Why? Don’t you like her?”
“Not terribly so, no.”
“Did she turn you down or something?”
“Mate, that girl wouldn’t turn down a tree with a weirdly shaped branch. That’s the issue. Don’t get me wrong, it felt really nice and all, but knowing she’s gone through forty blokes in just two weeks makes it kind of… hollow. Y’know?”
“I think I do, yeah.”
“Least Benny doesn’t mind, crazy pillock.”
“Well, stiff upper lip there, Cul,” Joe patted him on the back. “Once Maggie’s back I’ll ask if she has any cute friends on the other side, deal?”
“Deal.”
The two parted ways as Joe walked off to his ‘private chambers,’ which were really just an old storeroom that only he had the key for. Now that he was alone with his thoughts once more, he couldn’t help but grow anxious again. This time his concerns were more immediate, like if something went wrong during the upcoming ceremony. On the bright side, there was literally no way he could mess it up. His part in this was so minimal that he could literally do it in his sleep. The issue was everything else - stuff outside his direct control that had a habit of going wrong. His group’s first attempt at this failed because a faulty fuse cut the power at the worst possible time. The second try didn’t even commence because two of the participants were jailed for public indecency while drunk the night before the event and couldn’t attend. They were released three days later, but by then it was already too late. There was only one day out of the year that this ceremony could be conducted on, and it was today.
Joe spent the next few hours worrying whether the universe would actually let this happen, and if it did, that it would go down as he had hoped. It was a mad idea, to be sure, but sanity was often a detriment when dealing with these sorts of things. So, without any evidence, with very little knowledge, and effectively zero understanding of what exactly he was doing, all Joe had to work with was faith. He chuckled quietly. Faith. That was a funny word. Almost like saying ‘face’ with a lisp. It wasn’t a topic he thought about much, nor had he ever heard Maggie’s opinion on it. Would she find it illogical and preposterous? Or perhaps there was something to it, some brain-wavy stuff that made the unreal into reality if one believed hard enough. Joe was banking on the second. And he felt his lover would have felt the same, if for no other reason than because that was way more interesting than the alternative.
Regardless of his wishful thinking, however, all that remained at this point was to wait and see.
“Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara.”
A low, droning chant filled the darkened chamber. Its source was a gathering of precisely forty-two figures arranged in a very specific pattern around a central altar. Each of them wore robes that were a dark red color reminiscent of a fine wine, with golden embroidery around the sleeves, shoulders, and neck. The long hoods each carried the same insignia - that of three vertical eyes in a triangle formation. It was all quite sinister and foreboding, and one wouldn’t be blamed for thinking this was some kind of cult. In which case they would be absolutely, unequivocally, and completely correct.
“Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara.”
This was Joe’s big, desperate plan. If Maggie couldn’t come back to him, perhaps he could draw her out instead. It hadn’t been easy, he somehow managed to revive the Cult of the Gazing Star and reproduce the ritual they used to first summon Magh’rathlak the Observer into this reality. It wouldn’t have been possible at all if the entity itself hadn’t left a whole bunch of notes, recordings, and comments behind. Admittedly it had taken a lot of coaxing to get Maggie’s vessel to transfer those onto a digital medium, but Joe managed to do it. Because of that, he knew the exact circumstances necessary to perform the ceremony - from the once-a-year planetary alignment to the required chants, props, and devices.
“Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara.”
Strangely enough, it had been extremely easy to find people willing to join a shady cult that made broad and vague promises of happiness. Aside from Joe’s dad and friends, everyone else in the room were a bunch of weirdos he rarely ever spoke to after recruiting them. Was it mean and predatory of him to target and exploit the hopelessly desperate, the mentally disturbed, the easily manipulated, and the dangerously stupid? Absolutely. Did he feel sorry about it? Definitely. Would it be worth it, if it meant Maggie returned to him? Without a doubt.
“Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara.”
Of course, recreating the ceremony exactly meant that Joe had to once more serve as a sacrifice. He was completely naked and strapped to the stone altar in the middle of the room via uncomfortable chains. Just like before, he seemed completely unbothered by this, though his calm demeanor this time around stemmed not from ignorance, but the opposite. He knew exactly what was going on and what was about to happen, and he had absolutely no issue with it. Benny, Cullen, and Barry did, too. Still, as the chanting dragged on, doubt began to rear its ugly head in Joe’s mind. He glanced over to the side, where Maggie’s lovely vessel sat perfectly still and silent, a heavy robe obscuring her features and identity. He saw Azgod’kalar poke its tiny head out of her hair for a few seconds before it retreated, which helped ease his nerves quite a bit.
“Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara.”
As the ceremony progressed, Joe felt the rock underneath his bare back and butt heat up. It was a sign that the ancient runes etched into the stone altar had started glowing, presumably with a red light. This was good, as it was a clear and familiar sign the ritual was progressing as intended. Unfortunately, there was another similarity with the first time that he sorely wished wasn’t there. Namely, the muffled sound of rapidly approaching gunfire. The man felt a panic come over him, and he glanced towards the hooded figure standing just a few steps away. It was his dad, the only person Joe felt comfortable entrusting the all-important role of master of ceremonies to.
“Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara. Hoom ge’sore, ihm ge’sara.”
Barry sensed his son’s urgency and nodded slightly to show he understood. Despite their best efforts and inside contacts, the Supernatural Eviction Agency had caught wind of this little gathering and sent a crack-team of commandos to put a stop to it. Right now they were preoccupied with some automated security, but this wouldn’t last long. Things turned ugly back then, and they would surely turn ugly this time around as well. The main issue was that Joe actually had people he cared about in the cult, who very much shared his worries. However, rather than doing the responsible thing and giving the order to disperse, Barry made the decision to keep things rolling instead. He would not fail his son. Not this time.
*THUNK*
The heavy bulkhead sealing the chamber dented inwards as a powerful force slammed into it. Barry nodded to one of the cultists in the corner, prompting him to flip a switch. The strange machinery at the base of the monolithic altar sputtered to life once more. Four mechanical arms rose from each corner of the bed-like shrine. Each robotic appendage was tipped with a brick-like laser emitter with a tiny outlet on their smallest side. These were pointed upward and then engaged so that the four beams of purple energy converged in a single spot somewhere above the willing captive’s midsection. The streams merged into a slowly growing ball of light that let out tiny arcs and sparks as it gathered power.
*THUNK*
With the doors buckling, Barry stepped up to Joe and pulled something peculiar from his robe. It was an obsidian dagger with a curiously curved blade that resembled a crescent, the length of which had been inscribed with a series of squiggly runic symbols. The dedicated father gripped the occult implement firmly in one hand and pressed it to his lips as he muttered some forbidden un-words to it. The loopy sigils lit up with a familiar red glow while the weapon’s wielder did his best to speed things along. For better or for worse, he didn’t make it in time.
The invaders were too quick.
*THUNKRRANK*
With a third and final blow, the steel bulkheads gave way under the telekinetic assault and were flung across the chamber. If things played out the same as before, the mangled metal would brain Barry, after which a team of heavily armed soldiers would wipe out all the cultists in a matter of seconds. However, Joe had learned from his past mistakes. He had a contingency, a safety net. This form of insurance took the shape of a voluptuous blonde man-eater dressed in a borderline obscene red sweater dress.
Kelly leapt out of the corner she was hiding in, instantly stopping the dislodged bulkheads dead in the air with a viciously toothy grin on her plump lips. A flick of her dainty wrist saw the mass of steel get flung back towards the entrance. The tortured doors were then harmlessly snapped in half by none other than Psionic Agent 1st Grade Sarah Johanson. The psi-op stood her ground front and center, her unflinching gaze locked firmly on the unexpected and unknown Class-3 entity in her way. The rest of her squad was far less cocky as they maintained cover on the other side of the breached doorway.
“Well, well, well. Aren’t you an absolute snack?” Kelly purred. “Want me to show you a good time, darlin’?”
The Devourer was here purely for selfish reasons. Joe had lured her in with promises of an all-she-could-eat buffet of virgins in the hope that she would step in should something like this happen. And sure enough, she did. Not out of any obligation or anything. Kelogh’theryl couldn’t give a shoggoth’s ass about the man now that his cherry was popped, but she wanted to see if this plan of his was indeed crazy enough to work. She severely doubted it, of course. As if a bunch of losers in a basement could pluck her sibling’s mind out of The Adjudicator’s cosmic time-out. Nor would they have any way to keep The Observer here if they succeeded. That stick-in-the-mud was liable to turn herself in right away. However, this all seemed like a good bit of fun, so Kelly stuck around to see what would happen. And as luck would have it, she came across a rare treat indeed - a woman that piqued her insatiable appetite.
Unfortunately for her, she had set her eyes on the wrong morsel.
Without any hesitation or warning, Agent Johanson threw her fist forward. A surge of telekinetic force completely beyond Kelly’s expectations smashed right through the blonde’s defenses and sent her flying straight through the concrete wall on the opposite end of the chamber. It was the sort of blast that even Maggie would struggle to repel, and a clear sign of how far AJ had come in the last five years. She had mastered the trick of harnessing her emotions in order to amplify her psionic power, a technique now officially known as the ‘Mags-Burst.’ The freckled ginger had also learned how to draw upon positive feelings rather than just negative ones. The psionic freight train she just slammed into Kelly was an example of that.
“Sorry, ‘darlin,’” AJ smirked, “but I’m married.”
More specifically, it was the manifestation of how much she cared for her hubby, one Junior Detective Grant Maloney.
“Johanson!” Major Archer yelled. “The ritual!”
“Oh, bugger.”
The ginger operative was so caught up in posturing and quipping that she almost forgot why they were here. She turned her sights toward the central altar, but it was too little too late. What appeared to be the lead cultist was holding up an arcane sickle covered in blood while yelling something about revelations. Not just any blood, either. It was Joe’s blood.
“You bast-!”
“WAAAAIT! AJ!”
The agent was just about to go ballistic when the ‘sacrifice’ suddenly sat up, waving his still-chained hands around.
“You got it all wrong! I’m fine, see!? Just a bit of a cut on my palm! No big deal, right? So let’s everyone calm down, yeah?”
The commandos held their fire, clearly flabbergasted at what they were seeing. All they knew when they barged in here was that a certain cult had resurfaced and was conducting a superbly dangerous ritual. They all knew who Magh’rathlak the Observer was, of course. Most of them had even personally met and spoken to it as Maggie, or ‘Mags Oh’ as was her official alias. However, they had also received the Class-3’s ‘insurance’ when it first departed. According to the information within, the entity in question would be rendered temporarily incapable of returning to this reality, and promised to inform them and continue their cooperation once it could. The Agency very much wanted that, hence why it allowed Joe to continue to make use of all the resources and assets they had given Maggie, as per the girl’s request.
However, they had no idea the man was involved in this. It was a gap in their information. And even if they were aware, they would have still intervened since they had no way of knowing what, exactly, would crawl out of that dimensional rift they were going to open. It certainly wasn’t going to be Magh’rathlak the Observer. After all, it hadn’t communicated its ability or willingness to return yet. As such, it was probable that some other, far less amicable entity might hijack the summoning and ooze through the gap. The presence and identity of that salacious blonde from earlier was a whole other mess altogether, as they were yet unaware of Kelogh’theryl’s existence.
So, long story short, the military commandos had a lot of questions, and only one man who could give them answers.
“This whole thing was your idea?!” AJ demanded, refusing to put down her weapon.
“Yes!” he admitt
