<< Chapter 81 | Table of Contents
-oOo-Chapter 82-oOo-
A blue window hung in the air, showing Sylvia as she pivoted. The witch was wearing Spring Blossom. The pink dress was recently restored to its true form, Sylvester’s pinstriped suit already gone. The puffy skirt, ruffles, and lace adorned her beauty.
“♬I’m a cute girl♪,” she sang with a little spin. “♪The cutest girl in the whole wide world♫.”
Her long hair, styled into a pair of glossy tails, fluttered around her. It felt good to be back in her real body again. To celebrate, Sylvia had put on a new hat, a black pillbox with a pink bow. For extra embellishment, she’d added black flowers, using them to tie her locks.
The result was very magical princess. Which was fitting, because that was what Sylvia was. Satisfied with her appearance, she sent a command to her system.
Her phone rang. Brring. Brring. Brring. Emmy answered.
A blue screen flickered, Esmeralda’s figure replacing her mirrored visage. Late evening sunlight glinted off Emmy’s wavy hair. Wind rushed past her, stirring the cascading curtain of emeralds. The long locks shimmered in the fading sun, vivid and pure without Emily’s brown highlights.
Behind her wife were rolling hills and a sea of trees. Due to the hue of Ayu’s sun, the green leaves held a touch of purple. Most material worlds were seeded with species brought from Earth. Yet the millennia, plus a bit of biological alchemy, had resulted in adaptation to the local planetary chemistry, gravity, and solar spectrum.
Exactly what had changed was part of Esmeralda’s scientific study. The System wanted samples of various biological specimens. A major goal was to collect the genes of the elves, the orcs, and the other human-adjacent species so as to facilitate the creation of Earth-based homunculi. Supporting tasks included examinations of animals, plant life, and even various single-celled organisms.
“Oh my, you are looking lovely tonight,” Emmy chimed.
Sylvia’s gaze sank into Esmeralda’s own, the twin nebulae of umbral green like portals into another world. Emmy was gorgeous. She’d always been gorgeous. Transcendence had refined her beauty even further. Before, her features had retained a mix of Emily and Lady Vallenfelt. Though Sylvia had loved it, the combination hadn’t been the most flattering. The artists they’d hired had brought out the best of them both, capturing the youth and delicacy of the younger clone along with the charm and elegance of the older.
“It’s still the same old dress,” Sylvia said, her cheeks warming.
The feeling wasn’t embarrassed shyness. It was a happy flutter when Emmy acknowledged her efforts. The silver-haired witch hadn’t missed the widening of her wife’s eyes, nor the subtle delight playing behind the emeraldette’s smile. Those tiny bits of happiness made the growing sense in her heart all the more real.
She was a princess. An adorable, magical princess. And she loved it.
“And you are beautiful,” Emmy returned. “If I could reach through this screen, I’d surely kiss you.”
“Lies,” Sylvia declared, deadpan. “Because I would definitely kiss you first, depriving you of the chance.”
Esmeralda let out a lovely titter. Oh, how Sylvia wished she was in the forested hills with her wife right now.
“I imagine you didn’t go to all that effort just to call me,” Esmeralda declared. “Should I presume the quest in Tartarus is finished?”
“Orpheus Protocol was marked complete two days ago,” Sylvia answered, her tone serious. “But I had a few loose ends to clean up before I vanished. We left port right around the time you would’ve woken up.”
As she spoke, she shared a blue window. Emmy’s umbral eyes skimmed over it.
Quest Complete: Orpheus Protocol
Confidential: This quest is to be shared with emergency personnel only, except where authorized by the Governor.
A security review of System communications reveals that several Users and their local clients may have been compromised. For this reason, the entire Tartarus region has been placed under lockdown. All remote connections from the region, or from anyone who has recently been to the region, will be refused until such time as safe access can be confirmed.
Recipients of this quest are to meet with Governor Sanchez immediately, whereupon your role in resolving the issue will be decided. Please be aware that at least 23 Users have been lost, so participation in this quest may include risk to the User’s immortal soul.
Quest Reward * 2275 merit points
Objectives[x] Identify the threat[x] Identify the mechanisms by which the System was compromised[x] Locate the lost Users[/] Recover Users and stolen information: 78%
While the quest was complete, the System failed to provide full merit. Mador Sod had been busy burning papers when Sylvester got there. They’d only captured a fraction of Heaven’s research along with all 23 missing members of the Bluelight. What they did find in the remaining notes was dangerous. Heaven had yet to unscramble the ‘frequency’ used by System communications, but they had narrowed the band sufficiently that they could create crude sensors.
With them, they could detect likely members of the Bluelight. And once they had enough members, they could triangulate the local dungeons.
The System had issued an immediate security patch. However, software changes wouldn’t be enough. To avoid detection in the future, the System would need to expand its spiritual communication bands. Thankfully, the network roots weren’t vulnerable to this tactic. They already communicated with each dungeon core using a unique spiritual frequency. Sylvia would improve on that by inventing specialized ‘radio’ equipment.
Unfortunately, the dungeon-to-player communication layer would be harder to fix. The System client was a type of firmware installed on the soul. It couldn’t be updated without the owner passing through a consolidation or a grand mutation. However, there were System features, like ‘stealthy transmission’, which would help.
There was a simpler approach. She could design antenna equipment and place it inside the soul. This was something all Cloud Island Agents would need going forward. Not just to avoid the security vulnerability, but to circumvent new ones.
Esmeralda’s gaze sharpened. “Since you are calling while on your way, should I presume that the System continues to block communications to and from Tartarus?”
“For now,” Sylvia answered. “Agents will have to physically contact the foreign dungeons to upload the security patch. New authentication layers are being added to everything. From now on, no System kernel can be activated except by trusted members in trusted locations.”
“Governor Sanchez will be keeping you busy for the next few months, I suspect,” Emmy said.
“Endless government meetings,” she groaned. “We’ll have to drag Luna into them as well.”
The CIG needed a department dedicated to the System’s protection, she decided. Good security had active and passive measures. The qilin was strong, but Luna couldn’t concentrate on everything at once. As for the System itself? Sylvia would be a fool if she placed all her trust in her irresponsible little sister.
Pandora: (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づCutestSilverBird: ( – ⌓ – )Pandora: (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ
The little creep was snuggling with her sockets! Who knew what weird and disgusting things Pandora would try to interface with if given the opportunity? This is why the Devil shouldn’t have used human souls.
Pandora: (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づCutestSilverBird: ( – ⌓ – )CutestSilverBird: ( – ⌓ – )CutestSilverBird: ( っ– –)っPandora: •⸜( ๑•ᴗ•๑ )⸝•
“Do be sure to take care of her,” Esmeralda encouraged. “I know Luna has gotten bigger, but she’s still young. She shouldn’t carry the burden all on her own.”
“If I didn’t, Riley would never let me hear the end of it,” Sylvia said with a snort. She paused. “I have an idea involving routers and processing nodes…”
“We’ll work on it together, my love,” Emmy said.
Sylvia’s voice turned soft. “When are you coming home?”
“In two months, I think. Three or four, if you consider travel times after.” Esmeralda answered. “I’ve already collected a large number of samples on the System’s behalf. There are always more, of course. Even within a species, there is a great deal of genetic variance. Which is to say nothing of discovering the implications of each allele. Genetics are not so easily deciphered as nether code.”
The silver-haired witch nodded. The netherworld was a reflection of the material universe cast into the ether. Minds interacted with magical energy. Thus, the principles of the netherworld tended toward the conceptual and the comprehensible. A simple example of this process was nether code. Sylvia could directly glean the meaning behind a phantasm’s nether code. Oh, it’d take months or years to understand it completely, but it was like reading an incredibly complicated and poorly written book.
The material universe was not so friendly. Genetics rose from chemistry, which itself was a product of primordial law. Genes defined proteins whose effects were determined in part by how they folded. The proteins themselves would interact in complex ways with thousands of other chemicals, resulting in a chain of activity that produced functional cells. Cells which then made up organs which in turn produced an organism.
All those layers of indirection in combination with the sheer randomness of it all, made the roots of material biology far harder to understand than phantasmal biology.
“What more is there to do on Ayu?” Sylvia questioned.
“Before leaving, I must finish the base and create a beacon,” Emmy explained. “The System hopes to bring others to Ayu to finish my research. These men and women won’t have such an easy time using the front door. In addition, I’m hoping to collect texts on magics suitable for the material universe.”
Dimensional gates weren’t the only path to the material world, just the most common and traditional. The oldest method of crossing was still the most secretive. It was also the simplest. Die, then swim through Unus Mundus as a naked soul. Of course, this did require the right traits or the right tools.
The beacon Emmy mentioned would act as a guide for soul slipping in through that ancient path. It’d ensure they reached the right place, where they could efficiently resurrect.
“I hope you finish quickly so I can see you soon,” Sylvia said gently.
“I as well,” Emmy agreed, her gaze full of love. Then the lady’s eyes danced. “Now, there is a matter on which I am most curious. Whence comes this Astral Princess class title? I have read your status sheet and, if I’m not mistaken, you should have full authority over your local System client. Therefore, I can only presume that any class name is of your own choosing.”
Sylvia’s pastel pink eyes narrowed.
“I am not an Astral Princess,” she refuted firmly. “My class title is ☆Astral Princess☆. Get it right. The stars are important.”
“Of course, of course,” Emmy said with a laugh. “I would never deign such folly.”
“And secondly,” she continued, raising her nose arrogantly. “It is only natural that I would hold such a lauded title. Princess is a name my most beautiful wife won on my behalf.”
“If I meet the lady, I shall see her justly rewarded,” Esmeralda tittered.
“See that you do,” Sylvia said snootily. “It is my royal commandment.”
Esmeralda’s eyes turned doting. “You have become quite adorable, my love. But it is the joy you feel that moves me. I regret my failure to understand. As Emily, I was too captured by my own passion. As Lady Vallenfelt, I lacked the cultural understanding. I should’ve known better even so. I, after all, was a woman who’d been wounded by society’s expectations.”
Emmy had grown as a person. So had Sylvia. The silver-haired witch missed Emily’s zeal from time to time, but the two ladies had become one and were greater for it.
“I don’t blame either of you,” she said quietly. Not anymore, but Sylvia wouldn’t say that piece to the woman she loved. “I would never have become so comfortable with myself if I hadn’t been pushed. And, if I had stepped into the netherworld denying my physical gender, I would’ve been hurt far worse. Besides…” She suddenly smirked. “I was too, too cute. How could you resist? If anyone is to blame, it’s the Devil for cursing me with this kingdom-destroying beauty.”
Esmeralda let out another giggle. Sylvia’s heart soared.
“I love you so, so much,” the green-haired girl whispered. Then she put on an impish smile. “Since you’re a princess, does that mean I get to dress you like one?”
“Any time you want,” Sylvia allowed. She twirled, showing off her cute figure. “You can even add pink, hearts, and frills if you’d like.”
“Now you indulge me,” Emmy laughed. “And I will certainly spoil myself a little, if only so I can unwrap you like a present at home. But I know you too well. For your next armor, I’ll draw on military inspiration.”
Sylvia grinned. “I want something as cool as it’s cute!”
“I’ve already sketched out the design and I dare say, I think you’ll fall in love,” Emmy returned. “I fear you’ve grown on me in a dreadful manner. Now, even your boyish traits make me want to kiss you. Speaking of which, how was your time as Sylvester?”
“Honestly, I’m glad it’s over,” she answered. “I enjoyed it at the start, but by the end I found it grating. Sylvia’s the real me. And that’s not just Transcendence speaking. I think it was mostly true even before I Awakened.”
Emmy nodded. “Perhaps it is unfair, but I am gladdened.”
Yes, well, Sylvia could be more than a little unfair herself. For instance, she was quite happy that her wife had chosen slightly larger boobs. Marriage didn’t mean a lack of preference. It meant she should respect her partner’s dreams and her desires.
No more, no less.
“I love you,” Sylvia said softly.
“I love you too,” Esmeralda returned.
The blue screen went blank.
Silence reigned in the ship’s cabin. Sylvia closed her eyes feeling both hope and emptiness. She was lonely. Emmy and Riley were so far away. Three or four months sounded so long, even though she knew they’d fly by in a flash.
Pandora: (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づCutestSilverBird: ( っ– –)っPandora: •⸜( ๑•ᴗ•๑ )⸝•Yaalon: ദ്ദി(• • )
“You’re like a child,” Sylvia murmured, shaking her head. “When will you grow up?”
Most likely, never. The digital creature she touched wasn’t the System. It was the remnants of the System’s humanity. Pandora was the desperate, childish longing of a machine that’d never have fully human emotions nor a human’s perspective.
Which was a good thing, because no human could be trusted with such power. Sylvia’s little sister wasn’t little at all. In all the netherworld, the Heavenly Will was the only being larger.
The ship groaned.
The starry void was a world of chaos. It was sky, ocean, and outer space blended into one. Here, the elements void, space, and causality were so thick that they rivaled the elements primordial. The twisting, churning currents were hidden in the dark, shifting the ship’s frame and position. There was neither sway nor ebb. Instead, there was a soft turbulence along with subtle tidal forces, constricting and expanding in waves.
Sylvia was in the captain’s cabin of the Ouranó Fídi. The room was larger than she needed, with a bed in one corner and a table on the opposite side. There were chairs, bookshelves, a wine rack, and scattered navigation equipment. A small ether-light lamp provided illumination for readers while a larger light was set in the ceiling when greater brightness was needed. Nailed to the wall near the door was a fate compass slaved to the master unit used by the ship itself. Beside it were the displays for secondary and tertiary detection mechanisms.
She gave the compass a glance: two notches of stability, neutral on safety, and one notch of opportunity. Sylvia didn’t put much faith in it. Divinatory tools were easily fooled, particularly by major powers like Heaven. She put far more trust in Luna’s e-mail.
MoonSinger: Head directly for Helheim. Once within 1000 kilometers of the plane, you may turn toward the Cloud Island Wilderness.
Since the little bugger had insisted, that was exactly what Sylvia was going to do. Passing near Helheim would add two weeks to their journey, but she wasn’t going to play games with whatever ill-fate was carried on the astral winds.
Sylvia stepped out of her cabin.
The Ouranó Fídi was a huge ship. From bow to stern, it measured 150 meters, the long deck split by the four armored pods which carried the ballistas. A skeleton crew of thirteen pirates adjusted the fins, the tail, and the catch as Gerwen – the brown-haired dwarf – barked orders. A dozen demons directed by Elroy joined them, men and women with the Bluelight. Sylvia had brought 40 with her when she’d left Tartarus.
She let them work for a moment, watching as Gerwen ran drills. A vessel like the Ouranó Fídi was too big even for a crew of twenty. When crossing through the Great Gyre, they’d need thirty or more sailors to handle all the parts and pieces of the ship.
When the practice came to a natural pause, Sylvia roared. “All hands on deck!”
Gerwen looked back, startled. The thickly built dwarf had been informed of her true identity, but this was the first time he’d seen his captain as a witch. Sylvia saw the hesitation on Gerwen’s face. Sexism was rampant in the netherworld, albeit with a very different flavor due to the vast differences in personal power immortals could possess. Still, some men found it ‘uncomfortable’ to serve beneath a woman.
Was Gerwen the type? If so, he hid it quickly. The dwarf’s confusion vanished. His deep voice rumbled a mere instant after.
“You heard the captain, all hands on deck!”
Sylvia gave a firm nod before floating two meters over the deck so she was easily seen. Pirates scurried, most gazing at their captain in confusion. With a sway of her hips, the light elf – Frida – joined them, swathes of tattoo-covered skin exposed.
The demons of the Bluelight were a step slower. Their gazes glinted with an entirely different light. Sylvia could see the murmurs and excitement spreading through the crowd. ‘Princess’. Expressions turned fervent while some remained sharp and wary. Elroy of Est Somber strode forward, eight thugs from the Les Griffes du Gouffre surrounding him. Gavin appeared a moment later, melting out of shadow. The dark-skinned redcap sat on one of the Fídi’s many rails.
“Most of you knew me as the warlock, Sylvester Swift,” she declared. Her gaze swept the crew, the layers of Spring Blossom fluttering thanks to flux shift. “Now that we have departed Tartarus, I can reveal my true identity. I am Cloud Princess Sylvia Swallows.”
She allowed a moment for her words to sink in before she continued.
“For all those here, there is no turning back. We will sail for the Cloud Island Wilderness where you’ll be given a chance to prove your loyalty and your worth. Taking the Bluelight is mandatory before you can leave our plane.”
Her pastel pink eyes were sharp. “The System is not a punishment. We will not force it on anyone. If you refuse, you will be allowed to live freely on our world. The System is a gift. But don’t take my word for it, talk to those here who have already accepted the Bluelight. Their words are worth more than mine.”
“A gift,” Gavin scoffed. The goblin broke out in a toothy grin as all eyes turned to him. “The Bluelight is no mere gift. It is a miracle. To receive the Bluelight was the best thing that has ever happened to my little self.” The dark-skinned man gave a theatrical bow. “Meeting Lady Swallows was a close second.”
Even before loading onto the ship, Gavin had already been plotting his money-making schemes. He had plans for the members of the Bluelight. He wanted to use them to found a company.
“As promised, all those who came with me will receive fair payment when we reach Starport,” Sylvia continued. “It is my hope that you find a good life and happiness. For those of you who do accept the Bluelight, do not fear the lack of employment. The Cloud Island Wilderness could use a few good sailors. We might even have a use for… pirates.”
The witch cracked a nasty smile. A chuckle ran through the crowd, including Gerwen.
“Then we’ll just have to prove our worth,” the brown-haired dwarf shouted. “Won’t we sailors!”
A small roar came in accompaniment.
“Gerwen, make way for Helheim,” Sylvia ordered. “I will direct you from there. The rest of you, use this time to learn the ropes. If we run into trouble, I don’t want to see this ship floundering or the guns left unmanned.”
“Members of the Bluelight, gather around me,” Elroy rumbled. The golden-eyed werewolf made a firm nod in the dwarf’s direction. “I’ll see you paired off with sailors.”
“Frida, grab the extras and show them how to use the bows,” Gerwen barked.
Sylvia drifted down to the deck, gazing deep into the sea of stars surrounding the Ouranó Fídi. Light shimmered all around them, glimpses of Unus Mundus revealed by the chaos.
Anbaht went cold.
Her delicate hand gripped the onyx necklace. The medallion quivered. Torchlight.
“Gerwen, see to the ship,” she said before returning to her cabin.
Once the door was locked behind her, Sylvia raised a hand. Snap. The room was suddenly wrapped by private booth. Pulling back a chair, she set two cups on the table filling both with a wine randomly selected from Captain Kabir’s collection.
She gave it a sip. The flavor was earth and fire.
“Ashen blaze,” a mysterious voice commented.
A stretched, robed figure melted out of the nothingness, already seated in one of the chairs. Archduchess Wacera threw back her hood, revealing her angular face. Holding the glass lightly, she took in the scent. Then, with a sneer, the woman dumped it all on the floor. Brown liquid evanesced, filling the air with its smoky smell.
“A poor vintage,” she declared, snagging another bottle from the former captain’s reserve with the levitation spell. “I prefer Naraka Bloodwater. However, I will suffer a Jeolsung Ruby since I must.”
The dark elf popped a cork, filling her cup. Sylvia dipped into a graceful curtsy beside her.
“Archduchess Wacera,” she greeted.
“Take a seat, your eminence,” Zhuri commanded, her yellow eyes flashing. “And dispense with the niceties. We are equals when it comes to the only rank that matters.”
Sylvia’s eyes narrowed.
“You are the apostle of the Tenth Piece,” she concluded, pulling back a chair.
“As you say,” the ebony-skinned woman confirmed. Zhuri raised her cup. “To our victory!”
“May there be many more,” Sylvia concurred, matching the dark elf’s gesture.
She took another sip, letting the molten flavors of Ashen Blaze run over her tongue. Then her nose scrunched. Sylvia turned over her cup, dumping her wine onto the evaporating pool Zhuri’s had left. The dark elf let out a laugh before filling Sylvia’s cup with a red liquid.
She gave it a taste. Jeolsung Ruby was dryer than she liked, but tolerably so.
“Was it necessary to kill Lady Charmeine?” Sylvia asked, leaning back.
Sharp, almond-shaped eyes met her fractal pink. The asteri returned the gaze unwavering. To say she was displeased was speaking lightly. To destroy a soul was a serious escalation. When that same soul belonged to an ambassador? It was rightly called an act of war.
Zhuri Wacera had willfully dragged the Bluelight into the mud.
Sylvia wasn’t some despicable, self-righteous, teenage brat. She’d used Firestorm. So, naturally, they could use her. To use and to be used was the foundation of all relationships. No, what she disdained was the deception. Lady Wacera had every chance to share her intent.
And informed consent was equally important in relationships.
“Embassies can be rebuilt,” Zhuri explained, swirling ruby wine in her cup. “Losses can be repaid. The destruction of a soul can never be taken back. With Lady Charmeine’s death, Demon King Zagan will face a difficult choice. Does he support Heaven in chasing the perpetrators, angering the devils of Tartarus? Or does he refuse their investigation, risking Heaven’s ire?”
“One dead ambassador won’t force Heaven and Hell into conflict,” Sylvia pointed out.
Some foolishly believed that an act of war meant actual war would soon follow. This was rarely the case. If a nation wished for peace, a single strike, no matter how terrible, would never escalate to war. At most, such an action would drive the body politic to reconsider their current position.
No, an act of war was more accurately described as a seed of justification. If Heaven wanted war, then the death of Ambassador Charmeine would germinate into violence. If they did not, the event would be downplayed and the justification used to support other political intents.
“If Lady Charmeine alone is not enough, we’ll kill another ambassador,” Zhuri sneered. “We’ll skewer their angels one by one then roast their souls on a spit.”
Of course, if Firestorm were to engage in act of war after act of war, eventually Heaven would be forced into action no matter how strongly their leadership clung to peace.
“You want to provoke a fourth great war,” Sylvia accused. Her eyes narrowed. “Is that the Tenth Piece’s aim? To burn the netherworld then rebuild atop the ashes?”
“War is a means, not an end,” the archduchess replied. “And it is not war that we require. The Tenth Piece’s Great Work stands at the ready. To enact His vision, Heaven’s fleets must move. Once the path stands open, the chains will shatter. Zeus’s blasphemy will be corrected, and the light of our Lord will fall equally upon all!”
Sylvia’s nose scrunched. She hid her grimace behind her cup as Zhuri’s zealous voice rose.
“We are the storm of change, the fire that burns away the rotten world,” the dark elf continued. “We have no need for another Great Work, for He has already created the greatest of works. We will set the Heavenly Will free and the rotten, cowardly Heaven that perverted the Will’s purpose will fall. A true Heaven will rise in its place. Through its guidance, the Golden Age will be restored. We shall once more walk the path toward utopia.”
Archduchess Wacera’s yellow eyes turned toward the silver-haired witch.
“Some saw the shift in the stars and concluded the Thirteenth Piece was the scion of change. Fate is not so simple. Utopia cannot be found in a tool that makes demons stronger,” Zhuri scoffed. “But such an instrument will stir the great powers. War waits on the horizon. Your people open the door. The Tenth Piece will step through it.”
Utopia couldn’t be found anywhere, Sylvia scoffed. Humans were creatures of contradiction. Never mind the conflicting desires of the masses, even individuals wished for things that were mutually exclusive. The System wouldn’t bring utopia, with this she agreed wholeheartedly. What it would bring was prosperity. When immortals were, on average, at second consolidation, the wealth of the netherworld would rise greatly and the standards of living with it.
In her humble opinion, that was more than enough.
“The Bluelight is not ready to fight Heaven,” Sylvia warned. And it wouldn’t be ready for decades. “If Firestorm wants to start a war, I can’t stop you. But don’t drag us into it.”
“Heaven will pursue the Thirteenth Piece regardless,” Zhuri returned. “Let Last Beacon spread your Bluelight. Let the Clockwork Men play with their proxies. Firestorm’s nature is set. We are the needle in Heaven’s eye. We will thrash and wiggle to earn their ire. And when they rage, they will come for you so you best prepare yourselves.”
“Then give us help.” The silver-haired witch leaned forward. “The Tenth Piece obviously has weapons, equipment, and infrastructure. He even holds a world tree, which means he has blood fruits and psychic fruits. We can use those to strengthen ourselves.”
“All our fruits and weapons are needed by our faction as well,” the dark elf returned. “Ask the Clockwork Men if you want toys to play with.”
“We will,” Sylvia replied evenly. “And we’ll build our own weapons, when needed. I want ships, cannons, and supporting technologies for research purposes. Not just Hell’s equipment either. We’ll take anything you can lift off of Heaven or the Fey Federation as well. The exception is the fruits. We need blood and psychic fruits to build dungeon cores. Cores we can sell to you.”
Zhuri’s gaze was measured, her yellow eyes bright against her ebony skin.
“In the spirit of cooperation, I will allow a few fruits,” she said with a begrudging tone. “In exchange, the Tenth Piece wants to review his brother’s work.”
“I will pass your request to our Lucifer,” Sylvia replied. “I expect that he, too, will want to see his rival’s Great Work.”
“Then we have an understanding,” Zhuri said.
The robed figure stood, vanishing as she melted into the chaos.
-oOo-
Fleets of Heaven
Heaven maintains 12,000 astralships in its navy. These are separated into 42 fleets, of which 33 are defensive fleets assigned to individual planes. The remaining 9 are expedition fleets designed to respond to various threats. Supporting its astral navy are 14 world trees. Eight are mobile world trees. The remaining six trees are ancient and cannot be easily moved, with two permanently assigned to Asgard to stabilize the plane after Yggdrasil’s death.
By mandate, each of the 42 fleets is led by an archangel who serves as their admiral.
Defensive Fleets
Roughly 8,000 of Heaven’s 12,000 ships are allocated to defense, with 200 to 300 ships assigned to each of the 33 Heavens. In addition to providing territory defense, these ships are used for near-shore anti-piracy and anti-smuggling operations. As a general rule, the All Father may draw 10% of any defensive fleet’s strength without approval by the Choir.
The defensive fleets favor cruisers and frigates, with a small block of supporting breakers. The admirals are expected to work closely with the plane’s field marshal and governor, both of whom are also archangels.
Expeditionary Fleets
The 9 expeditionary fleets are stronger than the defensive fleets, consisting of 400 to 800 ships. On average, these vessels are larger, with a major allotment of breakers. Additionally, the various fleets all have specialist cores so they can serve their primary function.
Celestial Assault Force: The CAF consists of 4 divisions (33rd, 35th, 36th, and 40th) with a total of 2000 astralships allocated along with 4 world trees. Their primary duty is planar assault, with the expectation being that 2 of the 4 fleets will be assigned as an attack force when engaging worlds like Tartarus or Helheim. In the case of war, Heaven’s doctrine calls for the CAF to be reinforced by the defensive fleets when sent into battle.
The CAF cannot be deployed without a declaration of war by the Choir. They are normally positioned so as to create a persistent threat to Hell and the Fey Federation. The CAF is notable for its large reserve of supporting skyships and airships.
37th Crusaders: For the last two millennia, the 37th fleet has been allocated to the far planes with a mandate to suppress and root out the outsider presence. Beyond the other fleets, the Crusaders have the greatest military experience and strength. For this reason, Heaven often rotates ships and crews into and out of the Crusaders’ division. The Crusaders consist of 750 ships and 1 world tree.
Astral Reserve Force: The 34th and 38th fleets are an astral reserve force. Between them they have 1 world tree and 700 astralships. On paper, the ARF’s purpose is to reinforce any Heavenly plane under attack. In practice, they are deployed according to the All Father’s military priorities. This is because the ARF is the only fleet Michael can use without special approval by the Choir.
Currently, the 34th fleet along with its world tree has the duty of pinning down and eliminating the Tenth Piece.
39th Titan Killers: The 39th fleet is better known by its unofficial name, the Titan Killers. The TK is the only fleet to have multiple assigned archangels. It’s also relatively tiny, with a mere 250 ships assigned. What makes the 39th fleet unique is its purpose. The fleet exists to counter Abaddon and Tianlong, along with other powerful titan bodies. Because of this, the ships have an unusually large distribution of weapons designed for this purpose, including the Holy Mirrors.
As the 39th is rarely used for its core purpose, elements of the fleet are often assigned to the Crusaders in hopes of eliminating the Outer Gods.
Foreign Fleet: The 42nd exists to support joint operations with foreign powers. They often work with the Fey Federation and Hell to suppress piracy, respond to diplomatic incidents, and shuttle diplomats and other major figures. Of the 300 ships assigned to the FSF, 100 belong to the Inquisition and Mador Sod.