Chapter CXLI: We’re Sorry, Your Psychic Connection Has Been… ~Multehx

 

 

And, once more, aboard the Spectrum which was once again traveling through space...


Mazzic shrugged at
Adrian. "Hey, it's not like I have anything better to do now."
And he was pretty much right. He had been contemplating the conundrum of the space-time overlap of dimensional travel, but he couldn't remember what the derivative interger of pi to the 60th was, so he had given up and returned to what the Auran said last.
Ria was about to explain when a gruff and English voice interrupted her. "I'm sure this will all be quite fascinating, but we have bigger matters at hand to deal with," Sir Pseudo Havering coughed as, holding his back with one hand, he limped up to the group.
He still was badly burnt all over, but he seemed to be bouncing back rather fast - Twilighters and their healing abilities you know.
Pseudo glanced over at Adrian, who took a step back and made a slight sound of alarm. Pseudo didn't alter his glaring expression.
"Oh, the winged runt, back with us I see?"
Without skipping a beat, he turned and hobbled towards C.R.
"Rip Watcher," he stated.
C.R. looked over at him and raised his brows inquiringly.
"We must get the next Creation's Weapon and we must get it NOW. I will conjure a beast of such ferocity, of such intimidating nature, that the council shall simultaneously soil their trousers and fall to insanity with fear at it's presence."
C.R. rubbed his chin. "Eh, you sure? I mean, you're hardly at full power yet..."
But Pseudo had already closed his eyes and was waving his hands in a series of demonic sygils, chanting in a gutteral voice as he did.

---

Once more, around the oval, oaken table, the Council was assembled, an empty chair where Cydak sat. The group looked rather glum, save Malachai, Orson, NecronimusII, and Nictem. They all frowned in determination. The only sounds were Orson's low but steady breaths, almost laboring as the wounds he had suffered slowly healed themselves, Rebdok's shoulder popping as he relocated it (the Spectrum seemed to have packed a nice punch), and Fanah drumming her long nails against the table.
This was all interrupted as Malachai cleared his throat. Everyone came to attention and looked towards him. Seeing he had the floor, he began to speak. "Ladies, Gentlemen-"
There was a throat clearing from the wall.
"And robot," the demon added. "We have suffered the loss of one of our own."
He waved a hand towards Cydak's empty seat. everal of the Council bowed their heads. Nictem murmured something about a stereo under his breath. Malachai ignored this.
"I need not say anything more about it, as we all know precisely what happened," he continued, "but we MUST continue on the road we have newly set upon; to become the most POWERFUL beings in the Multiverse!"
Vole and Nero sneered, Fanah chuckled to herself, and Jadea grinned, deep in thought about it. Drakon was polishing a knife, and Mel was filing her nails.
Orson coughed and spoke up. "I do believe, as the master said, we must set our plans into action immediately."
He coughed again, putting a hand to his mouth. Nero raised an eyebrow.
"You sure you want to be doin' anything, old boy?" Vole nodded. "You did take a rather heavy thrashing these past two times, and I've read that those of older age tend to recover less fluently from these things then the younger generations."
Orson coughed and nodded. "Yes, I shall be fine, master Vole. You underestimate my stamina. I've lived through the Great One's War and been in the front line, remember."
Fanah sighed and rolled her eyes skyward.
"Yes, yes, we know the story; you were one
of the head codemakers of the Great One's
forces, and was even called to actual combat
once or twice where you saved numerous a
rookie."
Orson glowered. "It'll do you well to learn
some respect, mistress Fanah."
He sat back in the chair and Malachai had the floor
again.
"I thank Orson here for his words, and I hope it added to my own statements. I hope you all realize that the urgency of the situation is greater; the 'Spectrum Wanderers' have the ressurected master on their side, the infamous demon who fights for right, Multehx, has reappeared and we know is around them, and our numbers are fewer. We MUST set about the next Weapon post haste!" he pounded the table with a fist at this, startling the others somewhat.
Nictem spoke up, placing a folder filled with papers on the table. "We, infact, have the location of the next weapon set. It seems to be comprised of numerous bio-forms that, when forced to combine, do form a weapon known as the 'Nightmare Obsidian'. The lizard god and the evil lizard seem to be the ones after it the most. I shall not speak it's location as, as we all know, where the Rip Watcher is eavesdropping, nothing said will remain a secret from him."
He grinned, snickering to himself.

---

C.R. cursed, opening his eyes.

"Dammit!," he muttered.
Kenzo raised an eyebrow and Jaded looked to Scilas, saying, "He must have been doing that listening in thing again and something didn't go right."
Scilas nodded at the mercenary, not saying anything, but turning to watch Havering who was still at it. Ratch looked at Ria, wondering how she felt now that she knew Havering was on board. Heck, that he was onboard too! Ian walked from the coffee table to some smaller tables scattered around the room, fixing and replacing drinks, books, and other odds and ends on them. But everyone looked over as Havering's chants rose to a near yelled pitch and the room fell dark, save a purple glow that surrounded him. It didn't take a magik Einstein to figure out that something would come of this and soon.