Andronicus

Tidings from the Outer Worlds arrive unexpectedly at the Court of a High Priest somewhere in the Universe Within.

AI-generated image

A gaggle of buffoons gasped when the wind howled, an invisible door flung open, and a ghostly being stormed into the Great Hall. Court demons, witches and warlocks ogled him as he glided toward me. I sat serenely on my throne, watching as his piercing eyes darted to my hood, encrusted with ageless precious memories masquerading as stones.

“State your business,” I commanded firmly as he bowed.

“I am Andronicus, your humble servant. I come bearing tidings from the Outer Worlds,” he responded, a tinge of fear in his voice.

“Did I summon you?”

“Your envoy, Titus, a time walker, claimed you did, my lord.”

“Ah... Titus,” a flash of recognition flared in my brain. “Aye... I do recall now. But that was centuries ago. What took you so long?”

“The tides of fate have turned, and shadows now dance where light once reigned. I am one of a few sheltered selves who were able to endure. Countless others, I fear, have not been so fortunate.”

Intrigue prayed on my mind. “How so? Enlighten me.”

“Raging spell weavers rule the material realms.”

“They always have. What reckless foolery have they committed now?”

 “They’ve unleashed bands of armed androids and wearhs who roam the land hunting for prey.”

“Show me.”

“Behold the carnage,” he said. He waved his arms, conjuring a massive cosmic nebula that instantly materialized above him.

I gazed into it and glimpsed the past of worlds long gone. Shoreless seas of visions emerged, monstrous waves swelling into tsunamis. Landscapes scarred by menageries of fractured, disembodied souls unfolded before my very eyes.

“Grotesque! Wherefore such viciousness?” I asked.

“Lack of empathy and greed, my lord.”

“And the warm bloods? Are they all gone?”

“Rumors abound that a tribe has survived in one of the toxic water worlds in a galaxy nearby.”

“Which world?”

“Earth. They live underground in a place they call Ant-Arctica, their last remaining green space.”

I panned the scene around me. Scores of glares-turned-inquisitor eyes locked onto the visitor.

“Ant-Arctica, you say?”

Suddenly, scowls morphed into sinister smiles and hyena laughs echoed in the chamber. The visitor recoiled, terror in his eyes.

“Quiet!” My voice cut through the air like a blade.

The creatures complied, lips sewed with silence. Alas, it was too late. The ghostly entity opened a portal and bolted out of sight.

DCW