Perfidia may have faded away, though her followers have done nothing of the sort. Though, this time the corrupt are not the danger. The greatest threat is the creatures they employed, and a divine game being put into play.
There was a figure in a black cloak, surrounded by obsidian pillars reaching for what looked like a stone sky. Fire burned from torches on each pillar. Red eyes peered from under a hood, examining its surroundings.
"Why have you come?" an echoing voice asked from all around. The figure cocked its hooded head.
"Your people are mingling again," the figure said. A long silence hung in the air.
"I know," the voice said again.
"Then why haven't you put a stop to it?" the figure asked.
"I gave them a choice. They merely chose the wrong path."
"I and your people can take out the traitors, my lady, if you will only give us the aid of the others," the figure said in a tone that was both pleading and respectful.
"Are you sure you don't just wish for revenge?"
"Does it matter?"
"… Indeed. You are correct. It doesn't matter, not with this. The others will help you, though you know their behavior. Some will help you, and some will go against you."
"I know, my lady. I thank you humbly," and with those words, the figure disappeared. There was silence, and one by one, the torches went out.
"Take heed, my children. You have betrayed me, and so, your hour will come," the voice said to the dark void.
---
Chron leaned out of the window, watching the storming land around the Robinson household. He was unusually sullen today, letting the pounding rain hit his face. Gray and black clouds covered the sky like a thick woolen blanket, and he wondered vaguely how Transeo and Cornelius were faring, taking a business trip in this weather. Lightning forked through the sky like a jagged knife, followed less a second later by thunder that would put the boom from a bomb to shame.
"Chron? Are you alright?" the familiar voice of Wilbur asked. Chron turned his head towards his friend and forced a smile.
"I'm fine. Go to sleep, you have school tomorrow," he said. Wilbur rolled his eyes.
"Sure, mom," he said. Chron normally would chuckle and put in a smart aleck comment, but he couldn't seem to manage that tonight.
"I'm a born teacher. I'll act like your parents sometimes," he said. Wilbur frowned.
"Seriously, man. What's wrong?" he asked, more firmly this time. Chron attempted a reassuring smile.
"It's nothing, I'm just overreacting. Go to bed," he said. Wilbur recognized the fact that Chron wasn't about to say anything anytime soon. He just glanced worriedly at his friend and hesitantly walked to his room, leaving Chron alone.
Chron sighed and looked out the window again. He knew he wasn't overreacting. This sense of foreboding that had eased its way into his very being could never be wrong. There was a storm coming, and he knew that they might not be ready for it.
With that thought, Chron turned to go to bed, listening to the roaring thunder behind him.
A/N
Okay. I'm actually going to do a sequel. Who'd 've thunk it. Guys, I may not be able to update as often as last time since I have two other fics moving at the moment. I'm digging my own grave, writing this. Review, please!
Disclaimer: MTR, I own not.