Armageddon

This is a novel planked in a universe that occupied our orbital space before it painted its own doom. The murder of the king/president of that world triggers a chain of events that unfold, to arc the doom hammer. The saga of a disgusted detective for whom the wheels turn to make him a man destined to garb the clothes of a .......... Read more to know more.

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19. A randezvous

 

The narrative will now shift to a dead soul that did not want others to die. The views of its soul will here upon be cremated and the reader must journey on at their own risk.

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Phantasmagorical might the sights I train upon be described. Here I stand at the brink of what seems to be a battleground. Famished by war it is and to my eye, the fields seem familiar. The answer dawns with relative ease as events that unfold our lives are seldom forgotten. It is on this ground that I slew Kronos and here I stand, looking upon it after my death.

But peculiar are my bearings, my foot is loose as if gravity had let loose of me, but they still are intact, I can feel the jagged rocks, I can breathe the rose stench of death and I can feel the liberalities of afterlife. However, these are the same thoughts that nag at me, the whole of my life I had envisioned hell to be a fiery, lava pitted dome that spat out orders as to the fate of men. Maybe it is the disappointment of contradiction, or the harshness of confliction, I know not, but despite the relief, I feel myself fringed with trepidation.

I brush aside my instincts and start scanning the horizon. This time there are no colossal giants between the horizon and me but there is nevertheless a level of circumspect in me. The bodies strewn around seem to me just backdrops to what may come, and the terrain scares. As if on cue with my fear prevalent thoughts a hand materializes and grips my shoulder. I, in what seems to me anger coupled with my conjured disposition to physical empowerment turn around and blind kick at the variable opponent’s stomach. The opponent swiftly blocks with his palm and I immediately draw back my leg and cower, cocooning myself in a defensive shell.

Half expecting a retaliation I step back, but only things seem to betray me and the adversary just stands there. I look up and the sight I behold might be the only good in the gloom, standing a foot apart from me, in his condescending and majestic posture stands Poseidon.

I relish at his sight as his wholesomeness brings hope to me and in some manner, his appearance ceases my disparity with my instincts. Even if surreal there exists a grade of tranquility for I know that I have by my side a man whose sluice of positive energy is abundant as always. I decide that introspection might not be the best route and surrender to speech.

“What abomination have we committed brother, to be jailed in a perpetual battlefield where corpses are the corps and their blood the water”, I ask Poseidon.

“If this place might be an abode for abominators then there are enough for us to be space less. I reckon the world has ended, and where is Hades”, Poseidon asks, his brows furrowed.

“For the former part f your question the befitting answer is Yes, and to the latter I would like to quip actions speak better than words”, thus do I reply motioning towards the horizon.

While in engagement with Poseidon, I also had rooted out a potent threat at the famed horizon, poled there were two blots in silhouettes. My doubts as to whether the figure at the other end of the battlefield was Hades indeed evaporated as soon as the sun deserted the approaching figures.

Now comes the real surprise, striding on quantum leaps is a giant whose face contours are in any way human but whose body is best described as a jungle. Fronds stick out from the innumerable vistas of her body and to my disgruntlement, her stride is purposeful. Perched atop her shoulder, in one of the thousand protruding fronds is Hades, his mouth movements indiscernible.

Close and close she cloaks the distance and upon arrival, she words the most deadly of thoughts, that to me are worst than thrashing. “Welcome my sons, I am Gaia”, says It. Goodbye I incant to the world.

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