Revisions

by Concolor44

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Author's Note: So what would you call this? Urban renewal? Leveraged advertising? I'm sure Raven will come up with something.

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Chapter Five

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Titans' Tower, 10 September, 5:45pm

"Friend Glitch?"

The demon spun around, eyes narrowing at the floating alien. "For the last time," he spat, "I am not your friend."

"… um, Sir Glitch, then? I have made a pudding of celebration in your honor."

He eyed the large bowl in her arms, having no ready comeback for that. "Pudding? What the Home is that?"

"In honor," she intoned, formally, "and recognition of your outstanding contributions to the restoration of our beloved home and fortress, I have prepared the Klat'megtra Pudding!"

It was at that instant the aroma of her culinary effort made it to his nose. Eyes growing wide, he floated over and looked down in the bowl. "What is this?"

"It is a delicacy among my people, prepared to commemorate the achieving of certain goals. Our goal, since the attack of the giant robots, was to rebuild the Tower and to bring it to the state of perfection it had previously owned. Your help in the locating of the technical lust-demons has allowed us to realize this triumph!" She held the bowl out to him. "Therefore, in honor of your careful efforts, this Klat'megtra Pudding is yours!"

He glanced from the bowl, to her face, back to the bowl, adjusted his bowtie, cleared his throat, and said, "Tha ... um … th-thank …" That brought on a coughing fit. Half a minute later he pulled a lacy hanky from … somewhere … and blew his substantial nose. "You, ah, have my, ah … That is …" He stared at her, then frowned. "Does the Dread Lady know of this?"

"I do not know. I did not tell her," and here a significant twinkle sparked in her eye, "as she was otherwise occupied with her True Love Friend Jinx. I did not wish to intrude. It was quite obvious that they would not have appreciated being interrupted."

"Ah. Of course." He eyed the bowl, took it from her with one hand, dipped a claw into the gray/green/purple glop, and stuck it in his mouth. His eyes slid shut in ecstasy. "This is … a sufficient honor." He hurried away, followed by Starfire's blinding grin, as she called out, "You are the most welcome!"

Glitch stopped as soon as he was out of sight, scooped up a generous handful of the Pudding, and spent half a minute licking it off, making tiny, grunting sounds of pleasure.

Zori whispered, "Found your soft spot, did she?"

He whirled around, hiding the bowl behind his back, and giving the succubus a malevolent stare. "Don't think that just because the Dread Lady has decided to pander to your ridiculous suggestion …"

"It wasn't pandering! She has some awesome ideas. That's why she went and got some of the guys."

"… Guys?"

She ticked off on her fingers, "Morax, Alal, Henturaya, Iblis, Ngepet-Sriaa, and … um … yeah, Valac."

"Stop." He held up his free hand. "Why? She didn't put that on her calendar."

"Really? I thought you were her charge d'affaires, her right-hand claw and all that."

Glitch frowned even darker, and muttered, "It was easier when I simply knew what to expect."

"Easier when you might have gotten blasted out of existence for breathing wrong? Oh, yeah, THAT was a load of fun!"

He sniffed. "A simple creature such as yourself wouldn't understand."

"What I understand is that the Dread Lady is going to make things better for all of us, and I am one hundred percent behind anything she comes up with." She leaned in close. "Besides, I thought you liked her."

"I … don't object to her."

"Heh. Damning her with faint praise. See, that's funny, 'cause we're all already damned."

Glitch sighed deeply and said, "The reference had not escaped me." Then he – and the bowl – vanished.

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9:10pm

Trying to limp along as fast as she could with the oozing slash on her thigh and her bare feet bleeding from a brush with broken glass, Miranda made her way through the remains of the old house, looking for the front door that never, ever seemed to be in the same place where she'd left it. She crept down what she was sure was the central hall, even though the wan streaks of indifferent daylight poking through the occasional hole in the roof now showed threadbare carpet instead of scratched hardwood. She tried not to lose what was left of her sanity when she spotted the bright splashes of blood against the wall.

Behind her a wisp of deep violet smoke oozed out of the baseboard. A tiny scuffling sound made her spin around with a gasp … but there was nothing there.

"Sarah? Is that you?"

The silence was absolute.

A choked sob escaped her. "Sarah, this ain't funny anymore!"

This time the barely heard step came from her other side. Eyes darting everywhere, she pressed up against the wall.

Waited.

Waited.

Waited …

Her heart hammered so hard she was afraid it was clearly audible from either end of the long hallway.

She eased along a few more steps, her head whipping back and forth, then came to a stop in front of a floor-length mirror that stood against the wall at the junction it made with a side corridor. A long, red smear marred one edge of the frame. She mumbled, "I don't remember this being here. How did …" Then her voice trailed off as she caught a glimpse of movement behind her. Jerking around and drawing a breath to scream, she stopped when the other hall stood obviously empty. "What the hell?" She looked back at the mirror and stopped breathing altogether. The figure standing behind her in the mirror was tall, deadly pale, and featureless, and clutched an old saber in one bony fist. This time she did scream as she swung around and struck at … nothing. She couldn't believe it. There was nothing there. She panted a couple of times, fists held up before her, when the rusty blade erupted from her gut, and the specter stepped out of the mirror.

Everyone in the theater jerked hard. Most of them screamed from the crushing aura of fear permeating the huge room.

The six male demons sitting in the back row beside Raven soaked it in like the aroma of freshly-baked bread.

Forty-five minutes later, after the credits were gone and the lights had come up, the infernal creatures were the only ones left. All six of the demons were flopped or sprawled over their seats, wide grins of satiation showing double-rows of sharp teeth. Raven looked around at them, then floated up to face them all. "Well?"

The eldest of the group shook his head, stood, and bowed deeply. "You are the very soul of wisdom, Dread Lady."

Another one heaved himself unsteadily upright and breathed, "Never, in all my eons, have I experienced such a banquet." He caught Raven's eye and saluted, then bowed. "And they do this to themselves? Deliberately?"

"On a very regular basis. Entertainment of this type is quite popular."

A third one muttered, "I don't understand it. But I like it."

Raven gave him a nod. "As you must know from your interaction with them, mortals frequently have self-destructive tendencies. This is but one expression of it."

Two of the others whispered together for a moment. One of them cleared his throat and asked, "So … are you suggesting that we, ah, move here? Permanently?"

"Not at all. Your spirits are intimately intertwined with the Eighth Circle. You can leave for a period of time, but eventually you would run out of magical potential and wither away to nothing. No, I have something else in mind. This," and she gestured around at the theater, "was an experiment. A successful one, I'd say."

The demons shuffled around, giving each other furtive glances. "So … you're gonna send us back? That team of succubi got to stay here for a week!"

"And I might let you do the same if I thought you bunch could rein in your more violent tendencies."

Their voices tripped over each other in reassurance. "We can! We can!" "No problem!" "It'll be fine!" "We won't hurt anyone! We'll stay by the theater and … and do what we did!" "Please, Dread Lady, it was incredible!"

She pretended to think it over, then went up to each and drew a rune on his forehead. "That should do it."

They looked at each other. One said, "Dread Lady, I don't recognize …"

"Of course not. I just invented it."

Another touched the one on his face. "It doesn't … hurt?"

"No. And as long as you behave yourselves, it won't." She got significantly larger as four red eyes appeared on her face. Her hair billowed out around her. Her lower canines protruded from her jaw, and her voice dropped three octaves. "But if you give in to your inclinations and actually try to harm someone, you'll spend the next 99 months in The Long Pit."

They all snapped to attention. That was no idle threat, and they knew it. "It shall be exactly as you say, Dread Lady."

"Good." Suddenly she was her regular self. "Have fun. I'll see you in a few days."

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Sequoia National Park, 12 September, midnight

Raven sat on a wide limb about halfway up one of the colossal trees in the ancient forest, eyes closed, breathing slow and deep and regular; her mind was as clear as a cubic meter of hard vacuum; she had been in this state of deep meditation for close to seven hours. This place, she felt, was as close as she could come to an actual holy spot without getting into trouble. Her soul was a spiritual beacon, calling out for recognition from beings who would normally be her implacable foes. But she had a dilemma, and this was the only way she could think of to get around it.

The fact that it might end with her utter dissolution wasn't something she currently felt like dwelling on.

An increase in the ambient temperature was her first indication of response. Still she held absolutely still, offering herself with no reservation to this new invading presence. The heat continued to increase. She began to feel faint. As the Queen of the Eighth Circle, she had a total immunity to natural heat. This radiation, though, was entirely otherworldly; her cloak took on a char here and there, began to smoke lightly. She had known from the moment she made this decision that the price might be higher than she could pay. She considered the risk worth it.

Wind, or the sensation of wind, whirled around her, creating sharp, sharp edges that passed close enough to her skin to leave traces, faint red marks that resembled burn scars more than anything else.

Still, she held her peace; moved not a muscle; kept her mind open and honest and clear.

Gradually, the storm died down; the furnace blast eased to a warm breeze. That tableau held for an unknowable time.

{ { Open your eyes, child } }

"I think, Holy One, that it would be best if I didn't." She'd been expecting an angel … but not this!

{ { No harm will come to you } }

Keeping her head down and eyes averted, she allowed them to open. The forest was gone. They floated in a null-space of … she wasn't actually sure it was white. But that was the impression she got.

{ { Daughter of Trigon, look at me } }

She found that she could, and without even too much pain. She straightened up. "Thank you. I know you are masking your essence for my sake."

{ { I had no wish to destroy you } }

"How is it that you allow the Daughter of Trigon to stand in your presence?"

{ { Because you are more than that } }

She bowed her head again.

{ { You have a boon to ask } }

"Yes, Holy One. I have a burden, an inheritance I no longer wish to bear."

{ { Those souls did not come under your control by accident } }

"But I have no wish to torment them. It is not my place."

{ { Your sire would have disagreed } }

"I don't doubt that. But he was a Being of unrelieved evil. I am … a hybrid. I know that I carry the potential – even the inclination – for evil in my heart …"

{ { The same may be said of all sub-planar beings } }

"Well … yes. I freely admit that. But there are currently 695,878 mortal souls in the Pits of the Eighth Circle … and I feel … no, I know I have no right to hold them."

{ { What would you have me do with them? } }

"Take them out of the Circle. You can put them somewhere safe, keep them … I suppose 'in stasis' is a reasonable term … until, you know … THINGS settle out." Thinking about the End of Time never left her feeling warm and fuzzy.

{ { Why do you ask this? } }

"I can't do it myself. I am working my will upon the Circle as I may, but my sire controlled it for millennia. There is a great deal of damage to undo."

{ { This, I know } }

"The native demons … were encouraged to develop some bad habits. It will take much effort to change this, and the presence of souls available for torment … the temptation …"

{ { It is a righteous thing you wish to do } }

"… I'm not sure I'd go quite that far. I consider it pragmatic. If I want to aim for the redemption of the Eighth Circle, I see little choice."

She could feel the wave of amusement radiating from the Being. { { Pragmatism has its place, but what you wish to accomplish is a drastic lessening of basic evil … a righteous act, regardless of your motivation } }

Swallowing hard, she asked, in a very subdued voice, "So, will you do it? Will you take these souls from me?"

{ { I will } }

She sagged with relief. "Thank you, Holy One!"

{ { You may call me Haniel } }

"… I … I don't …"

{ { But not if it makes you uncomfortable } }

"Thank you." Suddenly the presence seemed … distant.

Raven blinked. The change was instantaneous.

Jinx startled a bit as she looked up from the magazine she was thumbing through, and said, "Hon? Hey! Where in the world have you been all day?"

The empath stood in the center of her room … which whirled around her briefly before she crumpled to a heap. The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was her lover screaming, "RAVEN!"

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The Eighth Circle, some days later

Those demons who could fly were aloft, though hard-ridden by gale-force dust storms. Those who couldn't fought like crazy to keep their feet. Hellstone shuddered and flowed under the direction of the Queen who had absolute control over the substance of this dimension.

Raven, in her demonic form, floated high above the maelstrom as she re-cast the landscape into a truly immense coliseum. In truth, the transformation took only minutes, though it seemed much longer to those caught in it. When everything settled down, all of her subjects were present, standing in a respectful attitude, awaiting her pleasure.

She had created a gigantic throne in the center, and settled down onto it, reassuming her more-or-less-human form. Using her innate abilities, she appeared to every last demon as if they were face-to-face; she had their undivided attention.

"I have learned much recently," she said, conversationally, "and have decided to share some of it with you."

They waited, silent, expectant.

"You are all free moral agents."

That statement brought a tsunami of confusion, summed up neatly in the sentiment, "But we're all damned!"

"And why do you think that?"

There was a short period of puzzled thought. Here and there the thought popped up, "Because Trigon said so. He said we were inherently evil."

"And because Trigon never lied about anything, you just took that at face value. Right?"

More confusion. Waves and waves of it.

She calmed them down. "Imps and mephitis, succubi and incubi, demons and devils of all levels and proclivities … are you not sentient creatures? Are you not capable of making decisions independent of the group-think that Trigon forced on you? Dwell on that for a bit." She lay back in her throne (now a recliner) and crossed her legs at the ankle. "I'll wait."

The discussions and debates went on for long enough that Raven got bored. She stood and said, "All of you … leave that question alone for a while. There's something else I want to get done."

Quiet descended.

"There are 53,074,808 of you here. You are the sum total of the inhabitants in this dimension. Trigon, in his own personal brand of 'wisdom', cleansed all life from the rest of this universe. Do you all understand that?"

"Yes, Dread Lady!" They were glad to be able to answer one of her questions without strain.

"Very well. I have made a count of the habitable planets in my realm." She paused for effect. "Even counting only the ones that are move-in ready, there are over four thousand available planets for each one of you!"

They gaped at her.

"Hear my decree, and receive my gift. Each of you is to claim ten planets for his or her own. In your search for such planets, I give each of you the power to move instantly across this universe." She stood then, and drew a complex rune in the air. It split into millions of copies and raced out into each demon. "Now. You all know where all the available planets are located. Each of you gets ten … and I don't mean eleven."

"Yes, Dread Lady!"

"That rune will last for one month. Wherever you are when it deactivates and disappears will be where you will stay for the time being. You can, however, travel freely among the worlds you have claimed."

"THANK YOU, DREAD LADY!"

"You all know of – and some have directly experienced – the higher emotions available to you from a few of the mortal races. This, then, is my task for you: You will re-form one or more of your personal planets into such a configuration as to excite that emotion that you most cherish, be it love, fear, sorrow, longing, glee, lust … whatever you find most fulfilling. If you want to work in groups, that may be fine, too, but I will decide whether your proposed group is allowed."

There was an awestruck silence, punctuated here and there by wild cheers.

"I can tell that most of you have no idea of how to go about this. So here is what I will do. You decide what you want your planet to look like, whether it has life or not, what sort of life that will be … and I will lend you enough of my power to do it."

The wild cheers became nearly unanimous.

She held up a hand to calm them. "Barring sentient life. I'm not going to create anything that might itself be subject to emotional abuse. But I will give you the power to create illusions, for those of you who don't already possess it."

This time the cheers went on for quite some time. Raven watched them, silently taking the measure of each. A few thousand of the travel runes disappeared while the celebration held sway.

Raven stood, raised an arm. "You may go."

A nearly deafening cacophony of CRRRACK noises filled the coliseum as fifty million demons teleported away. In a quarter-minute, the only ones left were those whose travel runes she had removed.

The demons looked around in confusion for a few moments, then turned their attention to their Queen, staring at her in fear. One of them whispered, "How did she know?"

"This is my realm. Mine. What happens here, happens at my pleasure. The rune that I gave you also gave me access to your minds, your thoughts, your deepest desires. What you bunch were planning … let's just say that I have a bit of an object lesson in store for you."

Their panic mounting, they began to beg and plead to be spared … but Raven was unmoved. "The only thing any of you is interested in is actual murder. That does not comport with my plans." She chuckled, a sound that froze every one of them in place. They knew the scent of doom when it smacked them across the face. She concluded, succinctly, "It's the Long Pit for the lot of you."

"NOOOOOO-" Their lament was cut off as portals opened under each of them, dropping them straight into Deepest Agony.

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One more chapter to go.

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