Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 294 Genesis

Eyes were drawn, poised upon the Emperor, who embodied death itself. Fear coiled like serpents around the hearts of many as they watched him take his rightful seat upon his throne. The half smile on his lips was both inviting and far, appearing as if to cast a shadow on the hearts of anyone who sought to approach him.

Those that could not withstand the Will of the Abyss were either carted off in a body bag or on someone's arm. No one complained or rather found they could not enthralled by the sensation weighing them down. They wanted to kneel, to proclaim him the rightful king, yet reality spoke of their position, holding them in contempt.

The Emperor lifted his gomplet prepared by Tasha, his personal Sword Maid for the evening. Everyone's eyes followed his movements, their bodies mirroring his actions.

"Welcome, Honored Guest!" he said, his voice booming for all to hear despite his normal tone. "What a lovely evening to witness the gathering of those from all around the Myriad Heavens. I am Altair Blackwood, Emperor of Earth and now Gaia."

His smile turned cold at the snarling faces of a few Gods. "As your host for the night, I hope to share our traditions with those from far-off planet."

Thanatos stepped forward, thrusting his goblet into the air, ' To the Emperor!" he said in a pitch and timbre to match the mood. His presence was domineering yet inviting for all to hear, tugging at the hearts of those who heard it.

The crowd responded to his will, cheering for the emperor.

"To the Emperor!"

"To the Emperor!

A few faces shouted, followed by more and more before the party continued. The thrum of a stringed orchestra began to play in the background, livening the mood with its almost ethereal sound.

Syris sat on the second throne on the left side of the Emperor, prepared by Aurora. It was leaner than Altairs, while on the right resided the empty throne of Reina's. Neither of the two thrones was bigger or smaller, indicating their status within the Imperium. However, that was not to say there were not any differences.

Presently, she was smiling, her gaze drawn towards the man on his knees: A Ninth Circle from the homeland of Genesis.

"Greetings, "he said on one knee. "My name is Artivas L'loutos, Seventh Priest of the Seventh Tower, in service of His Majesty High Lord, Alastair Dawn."

Genesis, due to its complex architecture that strived to push civilization to the zenith of its capability, constructed Fourteen Towers, each representing a colony of various cultures, religions, and architects that rivaled the size of several planets. From the construction of the skies to the Earth laid a hive of life, consisting of men and women constantly striving for resources.

Each Tower carried seven Layers; those that existed on the surface were usually noblemen, kings and queens, merchants, or warlords who held such generational wealth they could sustain themselves indefinitely. They were individuals who could purchase just about anything within the Myriad Heavens without worry.

The level beneath that ranged from the lesser nobleman to the working class, to creatures born from the vat in the service of prosperity, to those that served the families or corporations above.

Altair regarded him the attention he deserved but nothing more, allowing his eyes to meet Artivas.

"Your Highness," said Artivas calmly. "High Lord Alastair Dawn has seen to invite you to the Imperial High College. A talent like yours ought to be cultivated, or so he says."

Artivas attempted to motion himself back when he felt his legs fade from his neuro network of nerve endings. His eyes turned to Tasha's, finding them burning a fire that left him colder then he'd ever been.

He was panting now, his heart thumping in his chest so hard it ached. "No, my lord."

Altair glanced at Tasha. The moment he saw her eyes, he knew Artivas was lying. Though he half suspected as much.

"Then thats good. Then do you admit your crime?"

"Y-Y-Yes," Artivas said, his pants growing all the more heavy. He could taste death.

'Who is this woman? How did she sneak up on me so quickly?' he wondered, panic rising in his chest.

"How unfortunate. Raven, take this fool to a Holding Cell. He'll be trailed according to the law. Be sure to both gag and seal his Nine Circles before he tries to kill himself."

Off to the side, Raven decked in her royal attire and headed for her master's call, opening a dimensional rift. She dragged Artivas through like a dirty animal before returning some seconds later.

"It's done, my Lord."

Altair's expression did not change as he looked over the crowd of spectators, his half smile still present.

"Do enjoy yourself. No need for such unsavory behavior to ruin our night."

As the ball continued, the air quickly returned to a lighter mood as the God of Wines' blessing over the drinks began to take effect. Men and women began to dance, their bodies swaying to the tempo of the string instruments, as chatter began to race across the hall until the earlier tragedy faded.

Allied representatives were quick to make introductions and offer various gifts, all of which the Emperor accepted. He had no interest in beginning to conquer those the previous monarch had allied themselves to, but as of now, he hadn't much reason to seek war with various planets—at least not yet.

Hundreds of thousands of worlds had refused to join the Republic of Genesis, choosing to ally themselves with worlds that, like Earth, had, thus allowing them to gain similar benefits without actually joining.

Many of the gifts were nice, though nothing made the Emperor's heartbeat quicken. However, some caused him to raise a brow similar to the one now.

"Please, accept the Lady Ayms Veldam," the Representative of Vadies said, gesturing towards the woman who seemed barely past her sixteenth birthday. She was pretty enough, though it was her blood that caught Altair's eye. It wasn't much. A mere droplet, but the blood of a titan existed within her body.

He smiled as Thanatos spoke in his stead, accepting the woman as though she were not a person but a thing.

It had all felt peculiar, though it seemed that was how business was done. Moral or not.