Monitoring the various portals in the Terminal is a job much like air-traffic control. It has all of the risks, and boredom, but none of the excitement. At least, not after several years with which to become inured.
Watching the technicians install the new equipment give Jonathan a twinge of excitement, but he mistakes that for indigestion. He's been working portal-control for twenty years now. "So what's this thing supposed to do, anyway?"
The lead tech jots down a few unimportant readings before answering, "According to the inventor, it'll detect new portals before they open, giving you time to move them to better locations. If it works, you won't have overlapping portals accidents anymore."
"Huh." That doesn't happen often anyway. What's more likely is spontaneous portal closure, like what happened several months ago when a whole universe suddenly closed itself off, severing all connections with the Nexus.
"There we go," as the last techie closes a panel, the lead flips a switch, "all ready to rock and roll. Now if you'll just sign here, here and initial here, here, and here..."
Alarms and sirens blare, and Jonathan rushes to the new consol. Just as he touches it, a massive shock wave passes through him, sending him tumbling away with streams of blue energy following. The shift supervisor yells, "What the hell is going on?"
The lead technician stumbles over Jonathan to reach the equipment, "Portals opening. All over the Nexus. It's overloading the system, the safety's blown wide open."
None notice Jonathan rising behind them, with a grin wider than his face could possibly be, and a Daemon soul seeing through his eyes.
++ It's Showtime! ++
***
In the center of The Market, merchants and customers scatter as the ancient army marches out of the newly opened portal. Black and silver, the armour engraved with the symbol of four swords radiating from a central wheel, the soldiers' march is not orderly. An iron-clad chariot carrying the leader races out, pursued by a beast of impossible proportions and incredible description. Once free of the portal, the soldiers turn and form a shield wall, the chariot harrying the beast's flanks. "Advance by thrust and movement! Drive it back!"
Slowly, the creature is forced back into the portal, the company's mage rushing to complete the spells that will bind it to the other side. Only then do they breathe, and look at the Market around them. Percifal Steahl, commander of the Iron Legions, formerly of the Storm Front mercenary band, removes his iron helm and glares down at the bewildered conjurer. "Alright, don't play the fool. I know this isn't the Palace of Fire, and that only one-tenth of a Legion made it through. What the hell did you do to us?"
"Where are we?"
***
Rick St. Clair storms out of the computer lab, followed by Alex Reed. "Come on," pleads Alex, "I swear, it won't take ten minutes for the program to recalibrate itself. That's the point of these neural net algorithms."
Rick comes to a halt, "Listen, we don't have time for that anymore. We could have just run the damn numbers and found out what they did to Susan. But you had to fiddle with some stupid thing you read in a magazine once, and waste two bloody days on this. You do what you like, but I'm doing this the old fashioned way." And with that, he starts running down the corridor.
"Rick! Rick, I'm sorry!" yells Alex as he gives chase, "I didn't know this was serious, you didn't tell me that this was about Susan! RICK!"
Professors and teaching assistants stick their heads out of their offices to yell at the pair to shut up, just in time to see Rick throw open a door, and cartwheel his arms in an attempt to stop from falling into what lies beyond. Alex grabs hold of Rick's arm, but can't keep from being dragged after his friend as they both tumble into the dark wet street that seems several feet lower than it should be.
Alex struggles to his feet first, and looks around bewildered. "Rick? Uh..."
Rick just stares at the bodies he tripped over, halves of bodies. The other halves being in whatever reality used to be behind where the doorway now stands.
"Rick, where are we?"
***
Gur Quan has led his tribe across the stars in ships of silver and gold, but has never seen the like. The asteroid that they had colonized ten years ago was one of many, the fortress that dug into it impregnable even by the Swarm. Now, all that lies in ruins.
It has been several thousand years since his ancestors had left the Home in find their way in the vastness of space. In that time, the myriad of peoples had split apart, grown apart, and then, under the pressure of the advancing enemy, come back together to form a single blended race. Gur Quan stands tall, the end result of thousands of years of forced evolution and genetic engineering.
Tall, in the ruins of his kingdom, as this other world looms around him and his people. He grabs the Technomancer by his shirt, and drags the worthy into muzzle-to-muzzle contact. "What happened?"
"Where are we?"
***
Buildings topple as a massive stone hand smashes out of the ground. For blocks around structures disappear into the sand flowing from around the object. Bok holds on gamely as she is carried upwards, this stone member dwarfing even her troll body. Pex, his hair streaming wildly, dances from one finger to the next, screaming his praise to the stone god of the sands.
After the tremors end, and Bok reaches out to grab the insane priest, "What've ya done, ya twanking lunatic?"
"Where are we?"
***
The station tumbles as it exits hyperspace, "Alright people, the rides over, but the fun's just beginning. Get us stabilized."
"Houston, Houston control, this is SkyHook. Please respond."
"We've lost two solar panels, and a lot of the external antenna."
"Attitude jets firing."
"Crystal Palace, this is SkyHook. Please respond."
"We're not tumbling anymore, but I'd hate to think of what the structure out there looks like."
"Commander, I'm not getting any response on the tightbeams, or on satellite bounce, but I'm getting a lot of weird chatter on the unsecure channels."
"Put it on."
\\This is BBC Nexus.//
"What the hell?" \\
The City has been rocked by numerous portals opening all across the populated zones. A universe that had become closed three months ago has collided violently with the Nexus, breaking it open yet again. Unstable portals, transition zones and other phenomena have been reported, with hundreds of lives lost.//
"Is this some kind of radio play?"
"Commander, I think you have to see this."
"What?"
"Look outside."
"Oh my god."
"Where are we?"
***
Catrina hides as best she can. The only survivor of her universe, barring only her hunters. Small and dark, her feline form slips from shadow to shadow. Only to be chased by the Shadows themselves.
"Catherine, you cannot run forever." The two Dhu Sidhe seem to fade into this reality, their black suits and sunglasses making a mockery of their pale skin. The weapons they carry shift according to the rules imposed by the various realities they pass through on this chase. Wands, swords, flintlocks, revolvers, lasers, all unredeemably black in both form and substance.
Until all halt at the sound of beeping. Confusion passing over the lead Sidhe's normally expressionless face as he reaches into his breast pocket and retrieves a cell phone. A device that can only connect to their masters, who were destroyed along with the universe they came from. "Smith here."
The frozen scene is broken by Smith replacing the phone. He turns to his partner, "We have new orders. And a new target"
Jones nods, "Where are they?"
***
Power flickers out, static electricity arcing from every metal object in the alleyway. A homeless woman covers her child with her own body as a figure steps from the new-formed portal.
Gray fur traced in red, leathery dactylian wings, and the face of a wolf defines the woman dressed in black. Golden dragons are threaded into the silk vest she wears over the shirt and trousers. Digitigrade legs bring her forward into the light.
The child peeps from behind his mother, "What are you?"
With a quick grin, the wolf-woman replies, "I am the Madadh Sith ni Faol."
"It's Storytime."
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