The board is on fire

The echo of Enlil's desperate plea still hung in the stale air of the command center in Cancún when the next wave of crisis hit. They had just opened channels of communication with the Lyran factions, a whirlwind of alien diplomacy and mutual distrust, when a new, imperious mental presence loomed over all others.

It wasn't a call or a request. It was an order, projected with the force of a supernova star directly into the minds of Merlin, Enki, and Quetzal, the perceived leaders of Terra's disparate forces.

"The time for deliberation is over, mortals and lesser fallen," the voice of Amitiel, the Netlin Supreme Commander, echoed, cold as the interstellar void and sharp as glass. "The Great Old One stirs with renewed fury, and my legions prepare for the first cleansing blow. Your 'cooperation,' as negotiated by the Anunnaki Enki, is now an unavoidable requirement. Hand over the data on Terra's energies, the structure of the Grid, the vortex of your current location, and the nature of Gaia's planetary consciousness, as commanded. Immediately! Your obedience and the usefulness of your information will determine your role in the coming Order... or your utter and irrevocable irrelevance."

The ultimatum was brutal, unequivocal. As Merlin and Quetzal exchanged grim glances, weighing the impossible choice between submission to a celestial tyrant or annihilation, Aria doubled over, a stifled scream escaping her lips. The emerald and golden light surrounding her flickered violently.

"The Aluxes!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide open, reflecting scenes from a distant and terrible battle. "They are engaged! In... in the depths of the Hollow Earth... They are fighting!"

Through his intense connection to his creations, fragmented visions assailed all who had participated in the ritual. Small figures of earth and spirit, imbued with a myriad of magical powers, swirled like a furious swarm against horrors that defied description: beings of dark, angelic light, the Netlin Luciferians, wielding spears of corrupted energy, and alongside them, crawling, amorphous spawn of Cthulhu, with tentacles that tore at the very fabric of subterranean reality.

"They fight with the heart of the jaguar and the cunning of the serpent," Quetzal confirmed in a gravelly voice, feeling the echo of the battle through the Aluxes he and his sorcerers had helped awaken. "They have found the enemy at the roots of the world. Nyx and Poimandres are there, holding their own, and our little warriors have intercepted their pursuers!"

The news that their newly created army was already engaged in a desperate struggle in an unknown realm added a new layer of urgency and distress. They had sent their children of Earth into a potential massacre.

And then, as if the cosmos itself had decided the situation wasn't chaotic enough, Enki's sensors and Merlin's scrutiny erupted with new alerts.

"Multiple massive energy signatures in Earth orbit and the upper atmosphere!" Enki announced, his golden fingers hovering over his Anunnaki console. "The Lyran factions... are striking back!"

On the holographic screens, trembling images appeared: fleets of wedge-shaped Saurian vessels launching energy barrages at ethereal manifestations of Cthulhu attempting to penetrate the ionosphere. Thin, silvery, gray vessels executed maneuvers of incredible precision, firing concentrated beams at what appeared to be Luciferian Netlin reconnaissance vessels in higher orbits. And from the darkness of deep space, vast Insectoid swarms, like clouds of metallic locusts, intercepted waves of spores and lesser Void creatures.

"It seems that our tentative communications... or sheer desperation at the combined offensive of Cthulhu and his new Netlin allies... has forced them to act," Merlin analyzed with a mixture of awe and fear. "They are trying to demonstrate whose side they are on now that the old tribute order has broken down. Or simply, they are fighting for their own survival with the ferocity of cornered beasts."

The command center in Cancún had become the epicenter of a multifaceted and overwhelming crisis. Amitiel's ultimatum demanded an immediate response. His army of Aluxes fought and died in the bowels of the planet against nightmarish enemies. And in the skies, a desperate alien war raged, with ancient factions choosing sides in a struggle for the fate of Earth.

Dracula gave a bitter, predatory laugh. "The board is on fire," he observed, his red eyes glowing with a dangerous light. "And all the players are showing their most desperate cards. The question is, Merlin, Quetzal... what is the Ours? Do we kneel before the fallen angels, or dance with the demons and horrors of space while our little ground soldiers fight for us in the darkness?

The choice was impossible, time nonexistent. The survival of Earth depended on the decisions they made in the next few minutes, as multiple wars on multiple fronts threatened to tear reality apart.