Obsidian's Reign ¹

∷ Chapter 24 ∷

AS THE ORDEALS concerning the life of Clara Avery began their predestined course, trouble was brewing elsewhere in the universe. In an arbitrary building residing within the highly restricted abode granted to the angels, stood the office of a certain General Luther. The general was a stoic individual whose features were indefinitely set in strict conduct—no hints of emotion gracing the pallor of his expression despite what may occur in his presence. He never faltered and he prided himself on the fact.

As of this moment, the general had his arm elbow-deep in the torso of a wandering soul. He frowned as the telltale signs of failure resurfaced; the slight glitch, the dying glow, and eventually, the breaking of the soul into tiny dust-like particles. He pulled off his gloves, grimacing as he tossed them aside. Turning, he regarded the newcomer from the corner of his eyes.

"Human souls," he said by means of explanation. "Such fleeting things—so incompatible . . . So insignificant . . . So useless."

His companion remained silent, eyes drifting to the last of the particles as they disappeared onto the ground beneath them. He took even breaths in an attempt to conceal his emotions as he once again reminded himself that angels never showed their inner feelings if they had any, to begin with.

The general glanced at him before shaking his head with a scoff.

"The more you try, the more you fail," he commented offhandedly. "You are aware that you will never be one of us, aren't you? Consider yourself lucky you're gifted with talents I can do with. If it hadn't been for that, you'd still be rotting with the rest of them below."

Silence ensued at the mention of his companion's position amongst them and the circumstances surrounding his involvement with the angels. The general was one who valued titles and ranks and was not afraid to put those beneath him in their places. He turned his attention back to the neatly stacked papers on his desk before shifting to glance at the clipboard.

"I take it there's been another failure, Celdric?" he asked, his tone bored despite his clear displeasure.

Celdric shifted on his feet and brought the clipboard forward for further reference before saying, "Yes, sir. There hasn't been any success in the trials and experiments so far. A majority of the wandering souls diminished upon the first contact."

"A majority?" Luther repeated, raising his eyebrow.

Celdric cleared his throat.

"All, sir," he amended. "All of the wandering souls diminished."

Luther nodded his head slowly, resuming his work; his fountain pen scratching across documents as he methodically signed approvals and agreements. Celdric was used to the general's tendencies of ignoring news that were not particularly desired. After all, the general disregarded anything that did not benefit him in the slightest.

The silence gave way to the distinctive click of the counter above the entrance, an indication that another had been added to the total population. The general halted, a dark shadow crossing his features as he glanced at the increasing numbers. The counters placed above the entrance of the office allowed the general to take note of the increase and decrease in the populations between the realms. Though the Heaven counter remained unchanged, the Underworld's had been steadily increasing, much to Luther's growing annoyance.

"Are you aware of how concerning it is that our experiments continue to fail without progress?" Luther asked, placing his pen carefully on the desk and shifting it to align with the stacked papers.

Though the general seemed outwardly calm as he leaned forward in his chair, Celdric knew he was seething on the inside. It was only natural, but not entirely understandable. The seconds ticked in prolonged silence up until Luther exhaled audibly, his face excruciatingly strained. He stood abruptly, causing Celdric to jerk back in surprise, the clipboard clattering as it fell from his grasp.