Nezzar

Part Two: A Harvest of Worship

Dawn was just breaking when Khonsu received Insanity's command.

"Go to the plain of Dura and above the statue being set up, shout a challenge to all the gods of Babylon in your name."

"As you command." Vanishing from his corner in the hive, Khonsu reappeared in the plain and blinked in surprise at his discovery.

A disadvantage of being one of Insanity's many was how out of touch one got with the going-on of the world outside the hive. Standing at ninety feet was a gold statue. And like ants below, dozens of workers pulled on taunt ropes, hammering long pegs into the earth and shouting commands as they went about their duties.

Insanity's command was wild and risky, and normally Khonsu would be fretful. But he had come to learn that being part of the hive came with bountiful benefits, one of which was a fearlessness that he never possessed even when part of the principality of Egypt.

Discarding the appearance he wore while in the hive, Khonsu's skin turned cotton-white before mummification strips wrapped his body from neck to feet, and his crook and flail appeared in his hands. When was the last time he had the privilege of using them in combat? Perhaps, today would be the day.

Eyes shut and arms spread, Khonsu drifted up until he was exactly six feet above the statue. Then he released his suppressed essence, spreading it with a blast and making sure it found its way into every hole the lowest of spirits may hide and every pinnacle the highest demon may sit.

His message was a taunting challenge—come, or I will pillage your temples.

Their response was immediate. First, there was a shifting in the air—a slight disturbance that one not honed by the hive may miss. Then there was the buzz of rising forces. Some were strong enough to make Khonsu's former self shrink within himself in terror and others were pitifully weak.

High or low, all that mattered little. Power was about to shift in Babylon. The one they call Marduk was no more; in his place would be Insanity.

When Khonsu opened his eyes, he took in the gathering. Many shapes and sizes with restless wings, gleaming weapons and ferocious glares fixed on him. They talked all at once, but none approached him, and he could guess why. When Marduk remained absent, another must have occupied his empty throne.

Finally, the crowd parted, and a familiar figure walked through. That swinging smoking brazier and tight, unwelcoming expression. Mut.

At Mut's side was a fat jawless Nabu—the former patron god of Babylon—who ruled before Marduk took what the weak easily relinquished.

"Khonsu," Mut said. "You never returned from your assignment in Egypt."

Instead of answering, Khonsu looked from Mut to Nabu. Despite being jawless, power still wafted off him. Since Marduk was out of the picture and no longer drained him dry of whatever worship the people sent his way, he must have taken the opportunity to grow.

But it was a pity; Khonsu could feel it. Nebu was no match for him, and neither was Mut. With the power of the hive, crushing her would be easy. The only problem was Insanity commanded him to give the challenge and nothing else.

Well, Insanity was silent on how Khonsu must react if he was attacked. Surely, Insanity would not be disappointed if he defended himself with a little extra force. Curiosity and anticipation squirmed within him.

"I wonder," Khonsu mumbled, eyes dancing with anticipatory delight as his focus shifted from spirit to demon. Back and forth. They were numerous. Back and forth. His fingers twitched, talons punching out and piercing the crook and flail he held. "How well will I fare now? How do I get them to attack first—"