Zero Well

Balaam fired two point blank pulses from his phased field shifter, and it seemed like the very air cracked around the young angel hybrid. She looked surprised as Balaam's spear easily pierced her armour, where her central regulator should be. Blue fluid spurted from the wound as her eyes rolled back and an electric discharge seemed to flee from them.

'Fucking Angels, and their kin, harder to get rid of than [cockroaches]', Balaam thought. He surveyed the devasted battle ground, noting that both sides had pulled back to their bases to regroup. The Fallen had been on this forsaken rock for generations, guarding the Zero Well for the hope that it would bring to the Metaverse. Until a few weeks ago, Balaam would have said the Angels didn't even know about the prophecy.

For sure it had been the most boring 10,000 years of his existence. He'd watched his Legion of Fallen carve out a life here, have families, grow old, die, and repeat the cycle. He actually commanded more troops now, but by now they were mostly hybrids, and vastly inferior in terms of strength, speed and infernal powers. He was proud of them still, and would say that their technology and intelligence made them more dangerous than the original Fallen legion. The field shifter was just one example.

"My lord, you're required at the Well. Please come with me," a Wylven Captain said, arm to his chest in a salute. Balaam just nodded, and the Captain's yellow eyes grew brighter, and they teleported deep within their city (and deep into the earth underneath).

The Well's location was divined by the most arcane rituals of science long ago, long before Balaam and his men came here to be sure. It was in fact, the only technological artifact on this world that was otherwise a pre-historic paradise and populated by intelligent tribes that had evolved from some lupine predecessors. It was located in a massive vault, the walls engraved with patterns and images that seemed to shift moment by moment. The material was determined to be made not of a metallic element, but of a more fundamental particle like a quark, though that shouldn't be possible. In the centre of the vault was the Zero Well. It was a solid slab raised 10cm off the vault floor, 2m long and 1/2m wide. It seemed like funeral slab to lay dead heroes upon before imolating them in glory. The sides of the well were a white so pure that it seemed to burn the eyes, which brought the inky blackness of the top into stark contrast. If looking at the sides of the Well burned your eyes, looking at the top seemed to pull you down. The Zero Well exerted a gravity on the soul, and anyone could tell that it was, if not holy, extremely important.

Balaam knew all this, just as he'd known that the Zero Well had not changed in the 10 millennia he had been here. Until today. Balaam was known to be aloof and inscrutable, but his jaw hung open as he saw the etchings of the wall seem to form the image of several people, humanoids, that he didn't recognize. The Well itself seemed to be both brighter and darker, and a pinprick of blue seemed to be pulsing in the air above it.

'Is it finally happening', Balaam thought. He couldn't tell if he was excited, or terrified.

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The battle had not gone well for Sarathiel and her host of soldiers. She was prepared for them to have built a some capability of resistance in the small amount of time they had been at The Origin, but she was surprised.

Her cruisers and battle arks were almost all destroyed as soon as they entered the galatic space, a cunningly sophisticated web of satelites and defense mechanisms radiated out from the planet. The technology was more than impressive, it was beyond anything she had ever seen from the Fallen. Not that lasers and fusion explosions were enough to stop most of her host... just the lessers... and the ships. Most of her ships were destroyed. To Sarathiel, that was just fine, she preferred to see the blood of her enemies on the edge of her sword rather than from bombing and autotrons. All the technology in all the Universes couldn't compete with Angelic perfection.

'Hard to believe they let someone as important as Balaam rot here', she thought. Still, it was a smart move, clearly. Angels had only recently learned of the Zero Well. There wasn't a whisper of it, even among the Fallen worlds they had subjugated. It must have been a closely guarded secret.

"My lord. Our forces of hybrids, lesser angels and Riffrum were decimated. We've been steadily advancing for the last week, but today they presented with weapons and technology that foiled our shields and natural defences.... I didn't believe technology could even..."

"Enough!" She threw a glass at the cowering Angel. Though he was a competent commander, showing fear like this was unbecoming of an Angel, no matter how low in stature. He was dressed in simple singlesuit, her insignia of a red wing emblazoned on his shoulder. Seeing that made her smile. He was humanoid in shape, like most Angels. He didn't have the glorious wings of metal, magic and fundamental forces that adorned her back, and identified her as a higher order Angel. When her wings were fully spread, they spanned 6m and looked like the wings of a prehistoric beast crossed with a futuristic jet. They scintillated with a blue feild of electrons on energy. The sight was enough to bring lesser beings to their knees.

"We may not have been prepared for their 'tech'," she bit out the word. "However, they are not prepared for the wrath of God I will personally unleash on this planet. When I'm done, the Well will be the only thing that remains," She said with a wicked smile. Her underling did not look even look up.

"Yes my lord. What are your orders?"

Sarathiel gripped her sword hilt, the pommel glittered with a yellow stone the perfectly matched her long hair. Flares of coruscating blue energy escaped from the scabbard as the blade shifted. "Just sit back and enjoy the show".

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Just beyond the edge of the Zero Well's galaxy, others observed the fluctuations in the quantum fabric of the Metaverse.

"Damn those Angels, always jumping ahead without a plan, without all the details. They only just learned of the Well and are trying to commandeer it." The man said with a sigh. Maybe calling him a man wasn't completely accurate. His skin was a cerulean blue and the texture of sandpaper. There were little glimmers from light reflecting from some of the surfaces on his face. Broad cheeks, a heavy brow and mop of unruly dark hair made him look like an exotic neanderthal prince. However, he was covered in a midnight blue armour, with deep veins of glowing red power visible in the seams and joints, that looked anything but neanderthalish.

He floated in the vacuum, with no helmet or breathing apparatus visible, exuding an aura of restrained power. As if he could light up the night sky at a moment's notice.

"Prometheus, let them fight amongst themselves. They know not what they are dealing with, the Zero Well will unleash it's judgement no matter who happens to be nearby." The man who spoke also seemed powerful, with a luxurious curly beard and eyes so dark they matched a night sky. His armour was impressive, fitted matte black plates with raised ligtning insignia, though it lookes antiquated compared to Prometheus' armour. On his back was strapped a massive club, of a substance that seemed to both shine and be dull. Across it's surface pictograms and script were etched in, catching stray starlight in the cuts.

"You're right Baal. If they deplete their forces, it is for the best. The Angels have grossly mis estimated when the Well will open... or perhaps they just want to establish control early, in case we show up." Prometheus grinned when he said this, his white teeth looked sharp and gleamed in the dark.

"Too bad we're already here," Baal said, his smile echoing Prometheus'.

Deeper in the galaxy behind them, many hundreds of vessels could be seen, like silent hawks waiting for their prey to break cover.

"The Zero Well is a harbinger of change for the Metaverse. It is amazing that it was finally discovered, and yet, all things come to pass at the right time. The earliest glimmers of it were known over 10 million cycles ago, so the the time until it opens is less that heart beat away in comparison," said another man. He was older looking, but with strong features, and a patch over one eye. He was wearing robes, but carried a wicked looking spear that glinted with hints of golden light.

"Of course Odin, we just need to wait but a little while longer," Prometheus agreed.