Songs of the Chained ones’ Fury: Chapter 4

In a command center where dozens of monitors hung off the walls of a grand hotel room, war staffers, physicians, and other medic crew were analyzing wounded Sons of Morning soldiers. But, standing behind a glass, smiling and shaking his head at his lowly field staff, was Chief Scientist Tony Spittleheim. Standing inside a dark, sealed off room where the beautiful activities of this invasion was at work, Tony shook his head at the boring healing operations his staff were involved in. Tony clasped his hands behind his back and grinned. He turned around to look upon the sheer wonder and beauty of his work which would help fuel innovation for the empire as well as contribute to his friend Zivai’s work as well as Tony’s own work. And then human evolution would be so beautiful when Tony’s time came. Tony began walking down the aisle way of the grand hotel room and nodded his head at his staffers and scientists who were sticking needles into gagged men, women, and children who all kicked and trashed in lush, rich beds, raging where long black straps coiled around their arms, legs, and stomachs. Watching these fearful citizens in sheer glee, Tony approached a certain test subject where staffers Lay and Chill were pushing a large tube through the mouth of a drugged woman. Lay and Chill pushed it deeper and deeper into her body. Tony nodded his head, grateful that Chancellor Lamech allowed him to continue his work uninterrupted by Empire Milo’s strange ethics and morals.
                Lord Milo was a truly supreme and fascinating ruler who inspired Tony to his very core, but even Tony was greatly disturbed and frustrated by Lord Milo’s propensity to shift between light and darkness without understanding the clear distinction between the two.
                The woman’s eyes soon went lifeless as the staffers finished sinking the tube into her body.
                Tony slowly nodded his head.
                Emperor Milo. The true distinction is that darkness restrains the human desires—the desires of the flesh and the desires for greatness. For darkness is against the pleasurably endless pursuit for personal glory and power. For the true light is[1]  all about the human needs. Human freedom. The true god is our belly and who we are as humans. And the light is all about human desires. Why this restraint? Milo, do you not understand evolution and the peace that our deepest desires brings to our souls? You got it all wrong. True light is about living your life without restriction and doing whatever you want. Darkness is just a dirty word. Stop calling the dark side what it is because the dark side is actually the light side.
                Tony turned away as they stuck a blade into the woman’s stomach, feeling excited about a gripping session he would have with himself before digging deeper into his great pursuits of human evolution.
                For you will understand when you pleasure yourself more Milo. You will understand. Alas, it is time for me to enjoy myself while pondering Rugam Mintory’s “Ten Mediations” and Ash Viger’s “Self-Transcendence”—good and holy philosophies that only build up the human spirit whilst remaining silent on my humans needs and wisely refusing to speak against my flesh’s desires like the vain, foolish God who is against all things truly holy. Oh, how terrible and judgmental is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob! Oh, how beautiful and holy and pleasant and pure is the god of our bellies! Thankfully, I can meditate on Mediations and Transcendence without having to worry about these book judging my worship of my own belly. Belly worship is godly.
                He entered a room and closed a door which blocked out the moans and gurgling of the test subjects. Grabbing a bottle of oil, Tony pulled down his pants and was about to pour oil into his right hand until—
                “Sir! You need to see this?”
                “What is it?”
                “Just come quickly!”
                Tony grunted, tossed the oil aside, and pulled up his pants. So much for meditating on the things of Rugam Mintory and Ash Viger which made him feel good as true philosophies and spiritual doctrines should.
                It was all about feeling good, but he was denied this in this moment. And there better had been a good reason for it.
                He opened the door and followed a staffer towards the Analysis Center. Entering the room, Tony soon approached a screen.
                “Look sir. The energy signatures. The anomaly.”
                Tony pressed his glasses onto the bridge of his nose, examining a woman seeping energy from her body as her eyes glowed.
                “Ah. She’s Koshining. She appears to be Awakening.” He drew closer to the screen. And examined her energy signatures. “Send in a few Hands to track her down along with a unit. We must study this one. Her reading is completely strange and wonderful indeed!”
                “Yes sir.”
                Thank you belly. You always bless me my god.

They travelled down the empty, battle tattered street of Straight Blvd of Platinum Square within East District for some time, moving like bands of tribespeople who no longer had a purpose in life and wallowed in their suffering from a god who abandoned them, their hopes and dreams of a future dashed to pieces. The tribulation of death and war which tormented them had drew them closer to the ugliness and regrets that lingered inside them—to their darkness. There were moments when one of Arlene and Dhibha’s fellow coworkers lamented about his virginity and that he wanted to know a woman before he died. Terror gripped Arlene. Not because of what the man had said, but because she too had desires—to be married. To have kids. And then she entertained the thought of having a child with the man before she began to consider the consequences of the environment around her and how foolish and rash her decision would have been. But now, would she die? With no children to continue her blood line? Arlene clinched her hands into fists as she reflected on her circumstances. Job gone. Her city in ruins. Insecurity was the only thing that accompanied her. And she began to be filled with hatred as pain ate away inside her.  Arlene was walking alongside Dhibha as she deeply studied her friend. Something in Dhibha had changed though Arlene knew not what, but judging by reality, Arlene most likely changed too—maybe not even realizing it. Soon, the band of survivors slowed down to rest for a moment, and Dhibha looked at Arlene while fellow journalists neared them.
            “It seems they noticed something up front. They’re checking it out right now.” Said Bridge.
            Dhibha gritted her teeth and spat on the ground. Arlene went behind Dhibha, laid her head between Dhibha’s muscular slender trapezoids, and curled her arms around Dhibha’s stomach, not caring if Dhibha would’ve spat on her or not.
            “Those sick slithering snaky trick scums. They think they’re going to keep this up against us forever? We’ll show them.” Grated Dhibha.
            Her arms cradling around Dhibha’s whole torso, head resting on Dhibha’s back, Arlene said, “Screw them. Screw them all!”
            “That’s right my darling!” said Dhibha who rubbed her strong firm hands over Arlene’s. Oh how Arlene could feel beautiful dichotomy of Dhibha’s rough callouses and soft muscles of Dhibha’s confident hands. “They may be oppressing us now, but we’ll rape their throats so good that we’ll tear it apart and burst their necks open. And we’ll put a hole in the brain of those Sons of Morning scum that will be wider than our vaginas.”
            “Damn it you two! Listen to yourselves! Don’t you see that you’ll end up on their level if you go around killing people too?” said Bridge.
            “End up on their level?” Dhibha stretched her arms out and gestured around the city. “Look around you. They’ve already brought us down to their level. I’ll do more than kill them, I’ll bring them to an even lower level, and they’ll see true lowness in the infinite pits of death.”
            “Jesus Christ Dhibha! The hell’s the matter with you? And Arlene too?” said Elffy.
            Arlene tightened her arms around the waist of her best friend and good queen.
            “Jesus you say?” said Dhibha. “Tell me Elffy, all my time spent with you in Newington City, do you really believe in God?”
            “Huh?” said Elffy. Dhibha looked at with him with narrow eyes. “The hell’s that got to do with anything?”
            “You said ‘Jesus.’ And I asked if you believe in God.”
            “Not really.”
            “Well I do. And I have a big problem with God.” Dhibha darkly scowled. “But I have a greater issue with people even more. You’re not the religious type yet you use that holy name as if it was yours. What a contradiction you are Elffy. There’s a reason why I left the church. But now I’m wondering if I even should have left the coven to stop placing demonic curses on secular contradictory people like you.”
            “What?” Elffy said with horror.
            Bridge placed his hands on Elffy’s shoulder. “C’mon man. She’s not in her right mind right now. You know how she is.” He began pulling him away. “C’mon.”
            “The hell? Out of her right mind? No. That’s something else. Do you hear what she’s saying?” said Elffy as he was turned around by Bridge and began being guided somewhere else by him.
            Dhibha’s words against Elffy had dripped with so much righteous venom that Arlene could feel the power in her voice. And then, Arlene began to wonder about Dhibha’s past—even more mystified by Dhibha.
            “A coven? You joined a witch coven Dhibha?” asked Arlene.
            Dhibha lightly closed her eyes as she cradled her arms around Arlene’s arms and gently rubbed Arlene’s wrist. Dhibha’s hands felt so soft, yet so strong. “Don’t be a contradiction, Arlene. If you have light, live in it. If darkness, and you love its touch, embrace it. Do not claim that you don’t believe in deities yet use the holy names of deities to enliven your language or express your angst. It shows that you actually do believe in them in your heart. And it also shows that you lack creative imagination outside religious concepts too. This is what secular fools do. They lack imagination and intelligence and so borrow religious language to try and strengthen their vocabulary without making up something for themselves. And that would make you a boring, worthless contradiction. Be fun and be real with yourself, Arlene. Don’t be boring like secular fools. And yet don’t be hypocritical like religious people either.”
            Dhibha slowly opened her eyes.
            Though Dhibha chose not to respond to Arlene’s question concerning Dhibha’s involvement with witchcraft in her past, Arlene thought it best not to press Dhibha about it. Instead, Arlene nodded her head at Dhibha’s words that began to stir something inside of Arlene. Dhibha seemed to be onto something though Arlene couldn’t fully grasp it. What was it?
             A cold, bitter wind brushed past them, sweeping away small fragments of broken cement while brushing through patches of tiny fires that danced on bent and charred metal of jeeps, tanks, drones, turrets, and civilian cars and the wind seemed to push past Arlene and the survivors as if they were nothing in these dead, desolate streets. The smell of smoke and burnt metal faded through that ghastly wind’s wake. Dhibha seemed to stand unaffected by the wind’s cruel touch, standing tall and firm as if being renewed by her resolve to put down the Sons of Morning once and for all.
            “You guys! Over here! Look it! We found some stuff!” shouted Layla.
            Dhibha followed the other survivors towards the place where the scouters had been, Arlene still holding Dhibha’s waist. They found guns and ammunition, heaps of guns among the dead bodies of Montroy nation’s soldiers.
            “I don’t get it. Aren’t enemy sweep teams supposed to have collected the stuff? Why’s it lying all around like this?” said Max, one of Dhibha’s assistant editors.
            “Perhaps this was recent. Something about this is off.” Said Markos.
            Max raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
            “I’ve seen this before—out in Bukinda during the Sunni Guerrilla War between the Maribato Government and the Bukindan Tribes. I was doing a cover story on them once. Anyways, dead bodies were left with their weapons and equipment which typically points to a small, attacking party being victorious rather than a large unit. Maybe the Sons of Morning did this. Regardless, I believe there was some sort of small unit that wiped out these soldiers. No time to clean up because the unit was just passing through and simply hunting down targets or serving as some recon group, but…” Markos lowered his head as if entering deep thoughts.

“Recon? You think they’re still around here sweeping the area?” asked Layla.

Markos put a hand to his chin. “Good question. Um, not sure, but that’s not the issue. The real issue is these are just too many damn soldiers for one small unit to wipe them out this easily. This is strange. We definitely need to get the hell out of here. It’s possible the small recon team might’ve alerted the main army divisions to this area.”

“Or what if a third party did this?” speculated Layla again.

“Third party?” Then Markos’s eyes widened. “Aside from us vs the empire? That’s interesting.”
            “Let’s just nab the weapons and book it!” said Dhibha. Dhibha’s tapped Arlene’s hands, signaling Arlene to let go of Dhibha’s waist. And Arlene did. Dhibha walked towards a dead body and picked up an assault rifle, examining its chamber and clip before taking ownership of it.
            Gun shots blared in the distance, adding to the dreariness of the uncomfortable silence in the war-torn streets, and Dhibha stared in its direction like a wolf with raised hackles. Dhibha raised her assault rifle that she’d taken from the dead Providential Guard, readying herself—the sight mystifying Arlene. Yesterday, Dhibha was once like her: desiring to escape the city. But today, after grueling hours of roaming, and running, and hiding, and struggling, the circumstance of war had clearly altered aspects of her nature. She was still Dhibha to be sure, but that cold iron look in her eyes testified to a hardness growing in her. Other survivors began to pick up weapons while some men, women and children kept away from the carnage—the women and men shielding the eyes of the kids.
            Arlene had cradled tight the cold, bloodied pistol that she had picked up near a corpse.  The weapon seemed so alien to her as it emanated violence, but perhaps the feeling hinted at some false sense of innocence that Arlene seemed to harbor in herself because when it came to leading others and going to bars, she do whatever it takes to be tough. And it was in those moments she’d drink too much and got into fights to be strong and show that she deserved to lead others by being violent and domineering. And so, what right did she have to say she was above this pistol—above violence when she herself was violent? When she herself was more than just ‘imperfect’ but sinful? She looked down on the ground, shocked she would think such thoughts—ideas that actually never came about until Dhibha told her not to be a contradiction and acknowledge her darkness.
            A hand touched her shoulder, “What’s wrong honey?”
            “Overthinking. That’s all. I’m fine though, Dhibha.” Said Arlene.
            Dhibha smiled. “I understand. I get excited pondering putting down Sons of Morning scum myself. Just save your energy for the right time.”
            Arlene shivered at the thought. But wasn’t Arlene resolved to get justice just as Dhibha was? Or did she have certain feelings about it? She wasn’t sure. Soon, Arlene noticed Wall who was picking up a weapon and shivering in sheer glee. She narrowed her stare. Something was funny about him.
            A dark dread pervaded the atmosphere.
            What is this?

                And now was his chance. That whore would surely pay. Oh, she was so very stupid not to keep her eyes on him. And now he would have his vengeance. Now he would kill this twisted monstrous witch skank slut whose power was beginning to infect everyone with her evil. Yes. Now you pay and there shall be peace in this world once and for all. Wall gently rubbed the assault rifle with great care as he would his family jewels. He was growling while he chuckled out loud.

                It happened so fast. Dhibha’s eyes went wide as Arlene looked over her shoulder and saw Wall aiming. Arlene aimed her pistol and pulled the trigger. A fiery burst flash. A hole forming on Wall’s neck. Red rivers spouting from the fleshy hole in Wall’s neck as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Wall stumbled. But, doing so, he somehow managed to lift the rifle in their direction and pulled the trigger. Arlene kept shooting at Wall but Wall continued spraying. Dhibha gasped. Spouts of red midst appeared from behind Dhibha. Arlene screamed and squeezed hard, hammering Wall’s chest. Wall finally fell to the floor. Shock smashed against Arlene’s mind and twin thunderstorms of hatred and rage burgeoned in her chest. How could Wall do this this? Why did he? Arlene kept squeezing the trigger to find answers. And by doing that, she would have the truths she sought. She kept squeezing. The thunderstorms inside her becoming stronger. Kept pulling the trigger until fire no longer spouted from the gun and she heard clicks. But she continued pulling and pulling, finding herself getting closer to the truth. A group of people flooded her sight. Suddenly, hands came onto her. Voices. Some inaudible. Others shouting in surprise.
                Elffy, Bridge, Layla, Markos and a few other fellow journalists and survivors held down Arlene and Arlene was stupefied. It happened so fast.
                And then, the thunderstorms raged through her chest and burst through her throat, finding form. “Dhibha!” Still held down by them. “Why? Why?” The men restraining her looked back. Their eyes wide with shock.
                Dhibha breathed hard. Blood foamed from her mouth and a puddle flowed from her back and legs.
                Arlene pressed her hands against her ears. Oh God. Why? If You are so all-knowing and omnipotent, why did You allow this to happen? Our city is ravaged by dead bodies and now Dhibha lays here? Why God?
                Arlene cried.

                Dhibha’s vision blurred. The burning sensations feeling like a knife piercing through flesh and bone—the agony sharp and unbearable. But during it all, she tried to concentrate on breathing and process what was happening. And, despite the pain, she groped, attempting to the call the name of her Arlene because she was so worried about her best friend. There were screams. Dhibha fought hard to talk. Despite the loud noises, she coughed, “Ar—Arlen—are you alrigh—” she chocked on warm, iron tasting liquid.
                Her vision darkened, a swirling haze transforming into a pool of shadows and darkness with light seeping between her blackened view. Soon, as the shouts grew louder, she heard loud footsteps and felt a dominating presence. Her sight and hearing returned momentarily and the people turned around and lifted their hands into the air.
                She found herself falling into regret and fury.
                The shouting grew louder.

                Arlene ceased rocking back and forth and let go of her ears. She looked up. Before her, Sons of Morning soldiers rounded up fellow journalists and survivors. Soon, a group of masked ones seemed to appear from shadows and stood around Dhibha. Arlene gasped. The masked ones lifted up Dhibha who was coughing blood. Strange, coat-cladded individuals surrounded Dhibha and the masked ones, typing away on waist laptops, and their reddish gray coats rustled in the wind. They examined Dhibha with odd, hungry intent as if they were on the verge of some revolutionary breakthrough. None of it was making any sense. Soon, the masked ones let go of Dhibha who was falling towards the ground, and she suddenly floated in midair. The hands of each of the masked ones were outstretched toward’s Dhibha’s direction, and they slowly led her towards a jeep.
                “Levitation?”—“What the hell is going on?”—“Who are you people?” said the survivors and coworkers.
                “Floating.” Said Arlene in awe and fear with a trembling hand, pointing at Dhibha. “F—f—floating…”
                Imperial soldiers drew closer to Arlene and the survivors.
                “You are all under arrest. You will go into camps and will be free when we determine your allegiance to the empire.”
                Arlene’s heart fell. Why God? Why?

                Ton-Ton was too late. He hadn’t made it on time. However, minutes later, his eyes went wide. Hellish purple energy seeped from a black jeep and flowed into the embrowned air—the same jeep which hauled away the dark skinned Folarian woman. He then discovered that the energy was the woman’s own energy. He balled his hands into fists. Something was not right. He waited. But something inside him wanted to go down there immediately. The air intensified, spiritual energy suffusing from the east. He closed his eyes and sighed.
                Ton-Ton was clearly being watched. Or rather, they too were examining the woman being driven away. So, others were interested and paying attention to the woman like Ton-Ton was? This was becoming complicated. Then again, he wanted to go down there and see the fate of that Sheenyo-Qi woman. But as much as he desired to move, something in his heart refused him to fall into that temptation. And that something was his honor—his obedience to The Prime Laws. And one of those Prime Laws were: Kai must never interfere in Sheenyo-Qi affairs. Doing so results in severe consequences inspired by Zanza and the Intergalactic Tribunal of the Universe.
                He grimaced, growing impatient with his damn unwavering subservience to the laws created by the Council of Christ for the benefit of Kai society in a different era not like the olden days. Then again, many people thought he was dead, so why should he fail in maintaining his obscurity which was in his favor?
                And this justification worked wonders to stay his hand and keep him out of sight…for now…

                                                                        *****

                The Sons of Morning jet passed through gloomy clouds in a crimson sky. They were nearing Haven Nebula Continent, and soon, they would arrive in Albertras. But, until then, Karikoga had to concentrate. He had to improve his power. He was pressed into Kator’s Combat Stance in the center of the smooth, pristine training chamber of the jet, his body alit by the fading rays of the three suns entering sunset beyond the giant floor-to-ceiling windows of the training chamber showcasing much of the sky, breathing deeply as tendrils of pure white light and silvery white waves of energy coiled around him. Karikoga channeled into his Hakokhott Hayessodiim and Kokhott Rukhaniim, harnessing his elemental and spiritual powers respectively while he imagined light-encased roots to grow from his scapula shoulder area. Karikoga heard a sigh, then he opened his eyes. Gabriel was standing meters away from Karikoga as balls of fire flowed around Gabriel’s hands. Gabriel was adeptly utilizing Murugen’s dagger except that, through a slight trick in power manipulation, he was able to levitate them from his hands—no doubt altering its properties to be used for long range attacks when it was normally used in close distance fights. Concentrating back on his newly acquired technique, Karikoga focused harder, making efforts to grow them out, but to no avail.
                Gabriel sighed again and said, “What technique does big brother struggle to utilize now?”
                Karikoga smiled. He hadn’t told Gabriel about his new power yet and it threw Gabriel a little off balance. And that felt good for Karikoga and would always be good for him because it now made Karikoga like the mysterious one who harbored deep secrets. How does it feel now Gabriel? But despite being enamored by Gabriel’s intrigue, Karikoga’s new technique wasn’t operating now for some odd reason—though it worked a week ago. Perhaps it had something to do with controlling his energy reserves. Regardless, he abandoned the new power, saying, “You’ll see soon enough.” And he channeled into his Hakokhott Hayessodiim.
                Gabriel grinned and a swirling maelstrom of red energy cavorted around him as he tossed the Murugen Fires up and down like toy balls, tiny gusts of wind bursting from his hands whenever the fireballs contacted his palm. Karikoga entered a leaping stance and flexed his muscles all over his body, prepping his muscles for takeoff, then exploded forward, reaching Gabriel, and Karikoga threw three left hand jabs as Gabriel deftly evaded Karikoga’s punches before Karikoga then pressed onto Gabriel who darted the fires of energy towards Karikoga’s face while Karikoga burst with energy, dispelling the fires’ energy before it had a chance to strike him. Karikoga launched a right-hand straight punch seething with electrical energy to counter Gabriel but Gabriel, with terrific reaction time, raised a guarding forearm and it blocked Karikoga’s electrical charged punch which was aimed at Gabriel’s stomach. But Karikoga produced enough force in his blow to send Gabriel flying backwards. Of course, Gabriel was not hurt whatsoever and despite hurling through the air towards a training wall, Gabriel back flipped to regain his equilibrium mid-air and prevented himself from crashing against the wall. Before Gabriel went into his own attack, Karikoga had already threw a series of small-scale Lightning Launchers—electrical rods with powerful force—at Gabriel who deftly weaved finger-signs and unleashed his Mona’s Embrace barrier. Mona’s Embrace quickly expanded like the expanding war shield of the God Yahweh or some angelic chief prince and Mona’s Embrace absorbed the small explosions of the Lightening Launchers. While Gabriel finally landed onto the ground, Karikoga had darted towards him and scythe kicked Gabriel’s Mona’s Embrace. Karikoga’s kick bounced off the spherical barrier. But Karikoga used his recoiling body to transition into his Child of the Sun—a ball of energy that he attempted to slam against Gabriel’s barrier—but Karikoga’s tactical maneuver had Gabriel chuckling as Gabriel ariel-strafe flipped from Karikoga’s close-range blast and darted backwards still chuckling.
                Furious that Gabriel was unscathed, Karikoga strafed along Gabriel’s path by side jumping hard enough to keep up with a moving Gabriel, and Karikoga unleashed a succession of Light of Baliettas. Karikoga’s eye-laser blasts were being smacked away, left-and-right by energy engulfed hands of Gabriel, and Gabriel was still laughing like a condescending prince to a struggling warrior-peasant.
                Karikoga growled harder and suddenly found himself falling towards the ground after digging deeper into his power reserves of Kokhott and Hakokhott.
                Karikoga breathed lightly and stilled after landing into a push-up position.
                Gabriel leapt towards Karikoga, maintaining his distance, and said, “Your offense is formidable, but you harness too much energy so easily. Do you really enjoy tiring yourself out? Must you be such a masochist?”
                “But I kept you on your toes.”
                “For a little while, but knowing your aggression, I fought at a rhythm that, ultimately, allowed me to control the pace of the fight despite your rabid assault.”
                Karikoga exhaled and laid onto his back, arms and legs outstretched, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief.
                “Those electrical balls of power, your Lightening Launchers, I was surprised you controlled their size. Normally they are much bigger.”
                “Had to mix it up.”
                “Ah, and they were faster as a result—but still not enough. Karikoga, you telegraph your techniques too much and you use too much energy. At which point, you are so consumed with letting yourself use raw power that you focus on too many techniques at one time—thus causing you to inadvertently give away telltale signs of thinking during combat—which you must not do.” Karikoga ceased looking up at the massive domed ceiling, back-hand sprung onto his feet, and folded his arms. “But despite your weaknesses, a big reason why you mostly do well is because of your offense—almost similar to Shohiwa’s in nature, but more elemental and less physical—or should I say, more Hakokhott and less Shekokhott.” Karikoga nodded his hand, considering Gabriel’s assessments. “Karikoga, learn to focus on your main power Affinity and your core techniques, and you will be mighty. Then you can expound upon them.”
                “I understand brother. But I’m working on a—"
                “Ah? What was that?”
                “Never mind.”
                “Are you sure?”
                “Yea.” 
                Gabriel studied him briefly, then said, “You will grow faster and become more powerful when you concentrate on your main set of abilities, techniques, and Power Affinity. Don’t err in trying to master every power of The Way. Or do you want to struggle in all areas of the Kai Wheels?”
                “Hell no.”
                “Then continue to remain focused on your Lightening Launchers, Light of Balietta, and Child of the Sun.”
                Karikoga nodded his head in earnest.
                “Good. Now let us proceed to close things out before our mission begins.” Gabriel powered up one more time, preparing to finish the last part of their sparring. Karikoga unleashed a small wave of energy which engulfed him. Then Gabriel said, “Wait. One moment please.”
                “Eh?”
                “Considering that you are still mastering the Baraqiel’s Kiss technique, are you familiar with the succeeding levels?”
                Waves of embarrassment grabbed Karikoga’s swelling confidence and slammed it into obscurity. But, swallowing his pride which tempted him to ignore the question and finish the sparring, Karikoga said, “I’m not sure.”
                Gabriel stared with stoic eyes that gleamed of wisdom and said, “Third level is Rods of Death—an advanced technique much like your Mighty Ray.”
                Karikoga nodded his head. “Yea, we’re getting their fast!”
                “And the Fourth Level is—”
                “Gabriel, don’t spoil it. I’ll find out later when I see them in action.”
                “But the next level is so beautiful, so mighty, that it is considered an Angel Rank technique.”
                “Angel Rank? Really?”
                “And then—the Fifth level—Alastor’s Fury…oh how that incredible power shook the Depraved One Nero of The Ascendants when he confronted The Great Protector Mustafa Jeyi who unleashed that Seraphim Rank technique onto his foe and—”
                “What?” Karikoga was clearly confused. Dozens of questions swarmed his mind without warning like thousands of spirits of fallen doves had rushed into his brain to find refuge and he stared wide eyed. “That’s enough! You’re making my blood boil!”
                Gabriel nodded his head in earnest, and said, “Come forth.”
                Gabriel soon unleashed two long energy katanas from his hands. Gripping them both backwards, the swords roared with great energy as Karikoga felt the gusts of wind pounding onto him. Karikoga clenched his fists.
                “Already unleashing the Katanas of Domor, the Chief Prince?”
                Gabriel narrowed his eyes and grinned. Then he came upon Karikoga with a series of sword strikes possessing daft precision with swiftness and sophistication that testified to Gabriel’s fast and controlled fighting style brimming with elegance, grace, and professionalism—a far cry from any of the Tonderai brothers, especially Shohiwa.
                Karikoga had a difficult time keeping up. Then suddenly, a katana reached Karikoga’s face, and he stood still.
                Gabriel smirked. “That is a stab to the face brother. Your defense is beginning to slack.”
                Karikoga, who was once inspired by Gabriel’s brief lesson of power nurturing, blared with anger. No. Gabriel won’t get the best of Karikoga yet again.
                Gabriel was about to say something, until Karikoga exploded with energy, knocked back the katana—causing Gabriel to do a backflip—and was already charging towards Gabriel, and when they clashed, Karikoga unfurled a series of punches and kicks as Gabriel blocked and parried them effortlessly, but during the exchange, Karikoga reflected on the histories of the higher Natures and the Kai Wheels, The Four Quadrants of Power, the Kai rankings and as his minds overloaded from it all, he seemed to enter a calm void in his mind of where he focused on nothing but channeling into his Kokhott and Hakokhott. Once Gabriel flipped dodged out of a blow and fired Murugen Daggers at Karikoga, Karikoga fully immersed himself in his energies, and, suddenly, thinking of those sweet roots on his scapula again, he felt a burst from his back and his eyes went wide as a rain of light and spiritual energy fell over his face. A limb of power bobbed to-and-fro on his back causing Karikoga to lose his footing and rock back and forth from the limb’s great weight. Finding his balance during the bobbing sway he looked at Gabriel who stared at him wide-eyed.

                Gabriel couldn’t believe what he was seeing before him. The large hand of light and spiritual energy bobbed to and fro from Karikoga’s back with a whimsical grace emboldened by a deadly intent like a tail of a Christ Dragon elegantly waving its might. But Gabriel felt something hard growing in his heart and suspicion fell over Gabriel while he began to size up Karikoga as if he would interfere with Gabriel’s private plans. Was someone telling Karikoga something about what Gabriel was doing? Did Karikoga seek to undermine some of his goals? Why? Why did he learn it? How did Karikoga learn that esoteric power so quickly? Yet, despite all this, was Karikoga onto him? Was Karikoga now becoming a threat?

               
                Gabriel said, “Where did you learn that?”
                “Hehe, maybe from the Book of Thrones? Or The Greater Paths?”
                “Do not jest. And since when have you started reading?”
                “When I took this seriously.”
                “And you want to open the Gate to Pandemonium?”
                “Eh?”
                “And cast out demons from possessed people?”
                “Huh?”
                “What else do you know? Are you fascinated in reaching the Greater Realms and opening The Hidden Paths or something?” Karikoga, failing to comprehend what Gabriel was saying was soon face to face with Gabriel who tele-stepped to Karikoga—appearing from his previous position to the next in an instant. Gabriel lightly eyed Karikoga with a dark, mocking intent. “And now you are hell bent on learning the greater arts and pursuing the Sacred Jinn?” he hissed with venom in his voice.
                Karikoga shrugged. “What are you talking about? I don’t even know what you’re saying.”
                As if Gabriel somehow discovered he needed to relax, Gabriel closed his eyes, took a few steps back, and sighed. “My apologies. But…that technique…”
                “What about it?”
                “If I remember correctly, you wish to become a Protector? Yes?
                “Uh? Yea.”
                “Good. Then, dear brother, that arm of light will aid you well. Then again, yours is a baby because you’re supposed to have many arms.”
                “What do you mean?”
                “No more information for you.”
                Karikoga focused on the glowing arm of power on his back and straightened it into a fist. Appreciating his control over the ability, he had forgotten its name. Irritated by a forgetfulness that attacked his memory, Karikoga said, “What’s this again?”
                Gabriel chuckled. “Really?” Karikoga shrugged in embarrassment. “You will know soon enough. I need not tell you its name.”
                Karikoga narrowed his stare. “Let’s finish what we started.”
                Gabriel clenched his double katana.
                Karikoga’s limb of light tightened its giant fist, and Karikoga launched himself at Gabriel like a demigod. The limb of light hummed with great energy and possessed a weight strong enough to have its trailing momentum quake the atmosphere. Gabriel squatted and leapt back, unleashing his Mona’s Embrace and Mona’s children to serve as vanguard shield-strikers, and Karikoga swung a massive, glowing fist which struck the Mona orbs of power. But Gabriel’s mobile diamond-orb celestial drones were durable enough to withstand the impact. Then they pushed back as if they had a mind of their own, the giant fists pushing against them to break through. Gabriel unleashed a massive lightning imbued, Baemett Ryy blast wave to assist his celestial vanguards that had screamed at the thunderous impact of the giant fist after it briefly went back and struck against them a second time, and the blast wave hit the glowing fist on its side.
                The training chamber quaked.
                Karikoga’s body shivered with delight during his attempt to maintain his balance from the sheer might of his newfound power and the sly powers of Gabriel, and his feet slid against the ground before he found his footing.
                Suddenly, there a came a great light, followed by an explosion. And the competing powers nullified each other. Karikoga had been knocked back by the explosion, then back flipped to land violently onto his feet. While Karikoga was processing the event of his limb of light striking against Gabriel’s blast wave and his Mona vanguards which had produced the explosion, Gabriel landed in a graceful, gliding skid.
                The chamber went silent.
                Gabriel and Karikoga shared fierce, piercing glares.
                Moments later, Gabriel grinned. Karikoga entered a deep snarl.
                “Just how did you learn that technique?” Gabriel asked again with incredulity.
                Karikoga chose not to answer.
                Soon, the Sons of Morning’s airship staff members rushed into the grand chamber.
                They shouted, “Are you alright milor—?”
                The soldiers gasped before they said, “Look at that arm of power!”—“What is that?”—“I didn’t know our lord was capable of this!”
                Karikoga was too absorbed by the sparring session to say anything.
                Gabriel raised his right hand and said, “All is fine. Now, you are dismissed.”
                The staff members gave the Sons of Morning salute, then departed.
                As Karikoga crouched low to prepare for another assault, he felt the light wavering from his upper back. Soon, the glowing hand disappeared. Damn it, I can’t maintain it for too long.
                Gabriel darkly chuckled.
                An intercom patched off throughout the training facility, “Salem Lords and Hurricane Beasts, we reach Albatras of Makhtesh Lehagi’a. The mission will begin shortly.”
                Karikoga smiled. “Before we gear up, lets fight one more time!”
                Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “My my. The charms of lady battle-lust has sexually influenced your fighting urges and blinded your mind.”
                Karikoga stepped forward. “You’re absolutely damn right. Now, bring it on. Give me some more of this.”
                Gabriel glowered. “Watch your urges, big brother. There is a time for everything. Now is not feasible. You would be wise to demonstrate self-control.”
                “Pfft. Like you’re the one to preach that to me.”
                Gabriel grinned. Then, Gabriel gestured towards the training room exit and said, “Come, let us see what Shohiwa is doing with his time.”

                As they were exiting the room, Gabriel clenched his fist.
                Limbs of the Cherub…do not oppose me big brother.