Chapter 6. Carnage at the orphanage – and the end of worlds P1.
Time flowed at a different rate for eons, whereas now for this moment everything came together. Dimensions never meant to intermingle were thrown into disarray as tears in the fabric of space-time opened gates to worlds unseen in the uncharted cosmos.
The doors meant to conceal the horror within were torn from their hinges by a tidal wave of madness composed of myriad Wraiths of Old. Spirits whose fate had been ripped from them, spirits who died amidst terrible agony, confusion, and despair; came clashing down onto the fabric of reality and fiction alike.
Most worlds had no chance to weather the storm, but a few remained standing. The origin world of the ultimate gods, and several higher dimensional worlds subverted the threat, while others, more distant planets, and places without the protection of higher powers were overrun and consumed.
The dark spirits were immense, and they were ravenous.
They hungered for life, and to achieve their aim they sucked away all hope and desire to live, leaving their victims hollow husks of who they once were. The victims did not survive for long. And the Wraiths of Old could only hunt on, as it mattered not how much they took, they could never satisfy their burning hunger, they could never stop. They could never truly reclaim what has been lost.
Worlds had become barren, devoid of life and colors. Only the murky shades lingered.
Behind every door there was a world ripe for harvesting, behind every door there was a chance at salvation, and thus, they swarmed through the openings, ushered forth by their terrible master.
They were many, but they were not infinite. And a measly number, merely a few dozen went through most doors, while other—more powerful doors— were invaded in much greater numbers.
Some wraiths had a semblance of sanity, not much, just enough to understand their ultimate demise. When through a door measured to be a gateway to an average world, they encountered something, they could only describe as 'Death'.
(…)
The ride to the orphanage was uneventful. Naturally, they could've just teleported and save time, but Lord Ainz thought it'd be a great opportunity to survey the bounds of his domain, and indeed as guardians they could not interject to their Lord's command.
There must be some hidden agenda they haven't considered, a missed clue somewhere, but alas neither Sebas nor she could truly understand the intellect their Lord wielded. He was just too humble- Albedo's thoughts strayed as she longingly took in the image of her future husband. The pristine bones, the unyielding gaze, and those curvy-
"-Albedo."
"What is it Sebas?" Albedo retorted, and her irritation must've bled into her voice as the Iron Butler noticeably flinched next to her. Meanwhile, Ainz continued to stare outside the window, as if those flaming orbs could see something no-one else could. She noted it down for a later investigation.
"We'll be arriving soon."
"Oh?" She remarked.
Staring at her beloved and forgetting herself in the process was happening more and more lately, was it a sign? She didn't know, but it sure as hell would be a welcome one.
A sign that their fated love would soon bear fruit and Ainz would finally recognize her as the first wife. For a Supreme Being would certainly have more than one wife, Albedo would have to be content with holding the title of First Wife and his first love!~ She hastily covered her blushing face.
Ainz turned his gaze from the wilderness to the duo and spoke. He briefly questioned why Albedo would hide her face but thought nothing much of it. 'Must be a weird quirk of Tabulas-'
"We don't know if she is a friend or foe but be on guard." He started, trying to huss away his inner demons. And it never hurt to be careful, and while resurrection worked on Shalltear, he was afraid to try what would happen if it were he who died. After all, there was no evidence which could support the theory that 'players' could also be brought back to life. This might be his only life left, he wouldn't want to throw it away needlessly. What would the guardians do without him?
"We have naught but a rough estimate of that book's power, it would be foolish to underestimate." Ainz lectured, reaching inside his inventory, he pulled out several scrolls.
"We must be prepared for everything."
"Yes, Lord Ainz!"
"Yes-s. Lord A-ainz!~"
'-huh-hh?'
The carriage windows oozed different colors of light as Ainz overprepared for a simple meeting. He was only going to meet and see if he could speak with the girl, and question her about that tome, but why was he suddenly getting this ominous chill? Bones don't lie.
(...)
The human caretakers at the orphanage were in a flurry as they hurriedly prepared for the arrival of Ainz Ooal Gown. No-one could've predicted the sudden announcement that the Sorcerer King would make a visit to a backwater establishment meant to nurture the future generation, after all, he was an undead—an unfeeling monster who hated the living. People gossiped about the terrific power he displayed on the Katze plains, but rumor was he possesses an even more monstrous intellect.
The caregivers shuddered at the thought, what could he be thinking to visit this place? They were afraid. And fear is a great motivator. Shelves were dusted, corridors were wiped clean, and the building was brightened to a point where it shone brighter than the palace.
They doubled their efforts to clean and prepare the place for the visit of a monster of legends, meanwhile the members of Pleidies, namely Lupus and CZ were watching the work.
Lupus held a deceptive smile while sizing up the efforts of humans, plain to see, they could never reach her standards. Meanwhile, CZ Delta held a perfect poker-face, simply observing the ongoing preparations.
"-aww, these insects are almost cute." Entoma said standing next to the duo, drooling behind her mask. Another inhuman member of the battle-maids, secretly wishing for Lord Ainz to grant her some of these delectable humans. She was not worried in the least; they were set up for failure.
How could they ever compare to the homunculi maids of Nazarick, who were made for this job?
(…)
Behind the wooden doors a pair of eyes followed the events unfold.
Evelyn woke up to the commotion on full display as the caretakers rushed back and forth, cleaning and dusting off everything on their way, in a state of distress.
Many familiar faces passed by her door, however Miranda did not. Evelyn wasn't overly concerned over her well-being, Miranda was Miranda, she would be alright, though where she could be? She didn't know. She was not one to scorn hard work. She always said that hard work attracts results, and results invites attention, and more often than not, a handy reward.
She hushed away the thought and closed the door.
What could prompt such a response from a staff, which according to her memory, was more than inclined to laze around all day long. And whatever they did, it was certainly not cleaning in a flurry of awkward movements—clearly not used to the work. She pondered silently, when a knock was heard, and a man dressed in a butler uniform appeared. "Miss Evelyn?"
A/N: Please review!
Next chapter (continuation of this one) will be uploaded within half an hour.