To think that all those years ago that this kidwas the Black Lotus, to be surprised was an understatement when Wilhelm found out. Looking at him standing by two other hooded figures, he couldn’t help but wonder much he’d grown within the 5 years since they’d last spoke, let alone seen each other.

That he was here now his identity: he was the Foundation. Or rather, he was the third iteration, given the title was passed through bloodlines.

“Even if this so called Ascendant hasindeed returned”, casually poised the Foundation, “they’re sudden appearance doesn’t change shit to stop us given the current situation the world hangs on.”

Touché, Wilhelm mentally jibbed, pretentious prick.

He’d never changed his smug attitude.

He couldn’t, it was always his best quality.

As he talked, he scratched his face visibly uninterested. Wilhelm noted that the Foundation seemed mentally preoccupied, like he was focusing on something else. He began rubbing his neck, and by chance their eyes met again. The young man’s platinum eyes twitched, and he slowed his movements, eyes bold upon Wilhelm’s limbs causing his neck to prickle as if he were a prized animal.

The Foundation went on, “Moreover, I doubt that they’d simply just show up now of all times to bear any real significance in our goals, which would bring an equal amount of annoyance as itwould an advantage.”

He finished, “in short, it seems to me that the Ascendant’s return is useless to virtually anyone right now, us or them. Especially them. Besides, even if they managed to find and acquire whomever was unfortunate enough to become the newest iteration, the chaos sown across the world is simply too coincidental for them to adequately utilize the host’s abilities just as it is for us.”

He’s right, Wilhelm thought while scowling, the Pandemic, the unrest. All of these events have created a far more precarious situation for everyone and anyonewith a brain can clearly see that something else is going here. Something we’renot seeing.

None of this makes any sense.

“Nevertheless”, the Master responded with a nod, “that the Ascendant exists is enough to warrant a reexamination of our current progress. That They are no doubt aware of this and are at this moment, creating or altering their plans of action as well should also be taken into account. Officially, there’s been no report of neither the location or theidentity of the current Ascendant. We don’t even know if they are even aware of their role, or if their power has manifested.”

He stopped to sniff the air, and silently smirked under his breath. He went on, “One thing, however, is sure—“

At this he turned his gaze to meet that of Bahamut’s; father and son meeting eye to eye.

“This Advent is to be magnanimous, even more so than the last one that occurred allthose millennia ago. More specifically, it is to be none other than a Paracausal Advent.”

Once again, as the Master spoke and divulged such information, the air grew tense with anxiety and the creeping suspicion of despair.

This time, a new voice spoke up. “And how?” said a young voice, a girl of maybe 17or 18, “do you expect us to proceed Master? Given that we have noinformation on this newest host?”

She was ‘5’7’ with raspberry hair curled and braided into high pigtails on both sides ofher head. She was pretty, if not for the gothic makeup that blackened her eyesand rubied her lips, with piercings on her nose, and eyebrows, and spikes for earrings. Her skin was olive with inverted angular tattoos across her neck and chest. She looked like a punk metal dancer due to her fashion sense; coal thighboots riding up gray edgy skinny jeans, and a cropped black halter under apitch leather bolero, with fingerless gloves spiked at the knuckles.

What was most unnerving about her was the black-green corrosive liquid that slithered around her feet in a swirling vortex. It was creepy the way it liquid, oily and like iridescent blood, dripped from of the chains that hung around her waist, legs and tailings from the back hem of her jeans on to the ground steaming and creating indents as it burned.

This was no ordinary liquid, as Wilhelm had learned, but was acid. A special acid that flowed like water, but clotted like blood and could easy melt diamonds andhighly combustible when exposed to direct light or heat. Moreover, when in thehands of an expert, this acid was incredibly potent, and had side effects that ranged from causing near permanent blindness, as well as killing cellular growth, but also causing insanity and cancerous growths that when fully gestated, could become dangerous black spores capable of decimating anything organic it touched.

This blood, yes it was in fact blood, belonged to a select few Others. But such on the scale of this, there was only one among the whole of the Others to whom thetrue dangerous capabilities that this blood could be possessed.

That’s her, Wilhelm thought, this is the fabled Devourer;

The Devourer, the Insatiable One, in all her destructive glory.

Itwas here that Wilhelm finally noticed that beyond her and the members who’d spoken their two cents, the rest of the 12 did not openly reveal themselves. These few instead simply hid their identities behind long opaque black veils that smoked with vapors, wearing masks made of alabaster and gold. The ominous depictions etched in the metal masks made Wilhelm’s skin crawl and his breath cold as the unblinking shadows of their eyes peered into his soul. He steeled himself, however, and respectfully nodded his head towards them, and likewise a few did so in response.

“I’m not sure why this needs to be made into a big ass deal”, the Devourer said, “if finding this pathetic cur is the issue, then I see no reason why I simply cannot slaughter everything I see until it shows itself”.

“(Sigh)”.

She closed her eyes and cupped her face in ecstasy before as she continued, “I do so love the hunt after all, and at least by then I’ll have plenty of time to—“

“You will do no such thing”, interrupted the Master in a calm, firm tone.

Doing a double take, she stopped talking, arching her eyebrows immediately perplexed. Opening her eyes, she asked, “What? And why not? Am I not the keenest in sussing out our enemies? Master, I honestly think that—

“You will do no such thing”, he repeated for a second time.

She scoffed, “surely this is a bullshit ass joke on your—

“You”, he repeated, this time more slowly, methodically, and coldly, “will do. No such thing. As it is my order as well as my will.”

At the final utterance of the Master’s will, her eyes narrowed in annoyance and disgust. The shock she initially started with quickly melted away as she leaned her body into a position of casual indifference— that is until the same liquid that swirled around started dripping from her hands and the corners of her eyes, which Wilhelm immediately knew was her anger quietly boiling in silence. His assumptions was proven true in her voice as she asked, “How then is this possible, Master? And if not me, who then is this worthless shitstain that will—“

Her voice this time was calm and slow, the pronunciation of each word precise and pointedly sharp, as give her emotional disposition while she (for a lack of abetter word) attempted to keep her composure despite her rage.

 “That matter has already been taken care of”, he curtly answered again.

“Oh really?”, she fired back. 

As the Master said this, he turned his head in the direction of where Wilhelm was standing.

Now it was Wilhelm’s turn to look confused. Onceagain the Master paused mid-speak to think, this time to briefly smile with hiseyes closed as his thoughts trailed off towards the smell of Picardy wine fresh from the bottle before he then answered her question. How I do so feel the need to such wonderful wine again, he thought, I believe I should treat myself to a glass or two upon my return. It’s been far too long. Lost in his thoughts, the Master barely even noticed the look of pure anger at his whimsical behavior the Devourer held, and Wilhelm worried whether or not she’d explode in a fit just like Bahamut had just moments ago.

Always inexplicably cognizant, the Master ended his current thoughts before he spoke.

“Well, let’s just say that I’ve taken precautions and set aside steps to seek out the Ascendant long before this meeting”, he started. “Even now, as per my instructions, I have sent the Whispers, those dutiful little things as they are, to deal with the situation. As is their directive, they’ve already been scouring the globe for any trace of information on the Ascendant, and have begun feeding them to the Listeners.”

 “While there is little information to go at this point in time”, he reasoned, “We’ll know soon enough about this poor unfortunate soul in due process. And…”

At this he stopped and stood perpendicular, switching from his passive-aggressivestance into a more serious, assertive tone so profound and threatening that it caused even Bahamut to silently deflate before straightening up in a similar fashion—something even Wilhelm took hastaken notice of and responded to in kind with a smug smile.

Standing astute with a posture that radiated power, composure, authority, and pristine efficiency, the Master’s tone became more automatic, stationary even, as if hewere simply analyzing the life of an insect: an insect that by its very nature was equally as insignificant to the analysis as it was unique to its situation. His lips protruded like knives waiting to slice and stab and his eyes, usually grey, suddenly cackled with a silvery fire of such heat and intensity they made even the likes of the Inhibitor and the Affliction cringe with a hidden fear. The only person who seemed not to be truly affected by his display of superiority was seemingly the Foundation,who only sighed and again rubbed the nape of his neck. Whether or not he was afraid, he did not show it, but he instead choose to gaze solely on Wilhelm, who felt confused and unsure of the reason as to why.  

The Master began, “until such a time as passed when the Ascendant has been located and brought forth into our graces, and until such a time at which we, the Chosen can prepare the faithful for the coming of the Sight, it would behoove all of us to remember well our roles in the forthcoming events that shall be fall us.”

“As I am sure you are aware, the world as it is in currently in lies in a state such fluxual inconsistency, that even now the very fabric of nature teeters on the edge of collapse and ruin. These humans, these vermin. For far too long they’ve become complacent, stagnant, in the face of the ever growing dilemma that is the dying of our world. Too ignorant of their own fallacies and self-induced superiority; they haveforgotten their place.”

Turning away from the assembly, the Master walked passed Wilhelm, and stood at the top of the intersection, looking down on the city as the Los Angeles skyline glittered so near, and yet so far away. He went on, “these humans, they are nothing more than worthless cattle, a race of undeserving of whom this planet has never once belonged to. The time has come for us, the Firstborn and the true inheritors of the Mother’s divine countenance to rescind their blight and restore our world to its former glory.”

Giving a sideways glance, the Master looked up his disciple, and smiled at Wilhelm.

“Now then…”