A Divergent Convergence
(Disclaimer: I own none of these characters)
Prelude: Out of the Darkness...-
As if upon a vital tapestry, the vibrant Multiverse was stitched together from the primordium. Where potential finds fruition, existence finds anchorage in the serenity of the luminescence. But in tandem, there was a necrotic, inverse iteration we now know as The Black Multiverse. Where dubiety distinguishes itself, the weight of disastrous decisions guaranteed a macrocosm to be bound for Tartarian twilight. Epics can be turned to tragedies, grand deeds left broken as abysmal failures, and exalted sagas poisoned into pitiful lamentations. This was the ebb and flow of the currents of reality, decided by the possibilities that the warm, brilliant halo of the light and the all-consuming, icy pitch of the dark could stamp each materiality with.
And between the known and the unknown, the intended and the unforeseen, where hopes and fears ascend and fall into triumphant zeniths or perditious nethers, exists a barrier. A partition wholly without form or aesthetic, great in function but not in fashion. A barricade wrought from the thinnest of margins; a choice, a moment... all that seperates what is and what should never be. Here, set upon this equatorial division, stands Tempus Fuginaut. A being as ancient as he was colossal, the duplicitous task of preserving the delicate balance the boundary between the light and the dark provides was his charge. As a sentry would post upon some ancient stronghold's ramparts, Tempus maintained a vigil here upon the border where dreams and nightmares are only an inclination apart.
Attuned to the many ballads and requiems composing the chronicles of the cosmos, Tempus was constantly awash in these celestial songs as they told each Earth's tale. Every measure, every movement, all ringing out inside the guardian's mind. Every instance lending context to a multiversal perspective tethered to a mission colored by somber circumstances. To see and hear these accounts was to know both ends of fear's folly and fortitdue's favor, but time's unending march has given knowledge a cold condition. What this outpost left its attendant in search of was understanding.
Tempus knew the tandumed nature required to ensure things were sustained, for nothing shines brighter than a beacon set again gloom. But the vastness of this abyss could unsettle even the most pragmatic mind, as a veritable symphony of destruction played out ad infinitum . What had to be deduced from all of this was why had dusk cast its shadow so far? Was nothing beyond the light scared? Is everything in the dark damned? These are the notions that weigh upon a mind that has peered into the void, and has lingered long enough to know that void is peering back into them.
As the torrent swirled around him, Tempus set to traverse the doomed deluge. It beat upon the edge of everything like a macabre metronome keeping the tempo of the dirges sounding off in synchronicity. Moving through it all, he absorbed every ethereal eccentricity, but was left with a feeling that his present patrol seemed to be an exercise in similitude. Every outcry he could ingest simply sounded like more of the same… A moment presents itself, a choice is made, worlds die. The chaos calls constantly, with a penetrating howl that would petrify those that can recognize its voice. Reverberating out from behind its inky envelope, baying to all who would listen to the histories of those starless spheres. So it is for all things here, seemingly to degenerate into disorder and darkness.
The urge to move overtakes Tempus, and he continues on in a silent hope that this excursion would give him something more than another entry to add to his diary of desolation. Escaping the wailing web, the space before him now was not calling to him in any way he could perceive. Like a raft occupying the placid space between broken waves, Tempus focused himself in an effort to hone in on the signature that the darkness may have marked this area with. But, much to his surprise, something else entirely caught his attention.
Lowly, slowly, something unsuspecting yet not unfamiliar caught Tempus by the ear. Moving in the direction he was being called to, the area seemingly vacant, he scanned in bewilderment to locate the source of the terrestrial tune. He could sense the presence of something purposefully concealed, hidden away here perhaps in hope to deceive even the darkness itself. A wave of his staff illuminated all before him, even the things meant to be left unseen. Now, stripped of all guise and facade, this clouded cosmic conundrum could finally be known.
There was nothing outwardly spectacular about this universe. Not much really distinguished it from the countless others that had been known to him. However, this whole situation had the mark of The Forger all over it, that much was apparent. What was less evident was why this needed to be concealed, and not assigned a clear fate or place within the greater Metaverse. Intrigued, Tempus positioned himself upon the astral plane and focused his cosmic awareness upon this fixed point. This realm's discovery had many anomalies about it, yet no outward cause for them. In engaging the deep knowledge here, perhaps the answers to these mysteries might be known. Once again alight in galactic glow, Tempus observed intently as this creation's astronomical anecdote began to play out here before him.
Author's Note: Hello Readers! I know at the end of Altered States I promised to have this sequel story out by the end of 2019, and I truly had every intention of meeting that goal. Unfortunately, life didn't really allow me the time to put down work I'm truly proud of, and I certainly didn't want to release anything halfheartedly. Sorry I've kept you all waiting for so long, but here we are, ready to dive back into The Black Oasis. I'm pleased to finally show you all what happens to Bruce and Diana next.
I'll keep the updates coming as fast and as often as I can.
Happy Reading,
The_GD_Patman