XXVI
Elsewhere
Azar had one basic rule; once you left… you never returned.
Whatever she had held sacred in her heart moments ago was swept away under a thousand cries of terror and anguish. Her home realm was dying. Raven Wayne knew this. She was the most powerful empath on the planet and even across the dimensions, the emotional ties were too deep to ignore. A giant, black wave of pain and suffering had swelled across worlds to come crashing down on her, dragging her into its sea. She was close to drowning under its sheer, frantic terror.
Her mother's anger had brought her to the surface. Arella, in deadly jeopardy, fought on. It was Bruce's piercing gaze that had allowed her to reach the shore of sanity. He was resolute, a rock in a sea of emotion crashing upon her battered shore. He had given her an outfit, like the one she wore when she had first reached Gotham, but different…
Invisible. Could she be invisible? And then - she was.
Her love had saved her. She grasped across all fear kissed him full on the mouth as she had longed to do countless times before. It was her first true kiss - and she wanted to share it more than anything with this man… to lose herself in the sensuality of lips and breath.
After his initial shock, Bruce responded in kind. New passions ignited in her, a storm of emotion lit firestorms igniting her soul. He had been taken aback at first. Had he been surprised that she had been so bold? Had he been unaware of the passions in her heart that she struggled to suppress every moment of their time together?
It wasn't until after the kiss that she realized that she had been invisible the whole time. He had never saw it coming.
"Our fate is shared, my love. I will return."
With that, Raven departed. She teleported across the planes of darkness, despair and incomprehensible mysteries. Other things traveled in the space between worlds, aware of the tragedy she shifted towards. A part of her soul felt these strange beings alongside. The other part was kindred.
Raven appeared behind her mother Arella in Azarath. The site before her was horrid devastation. Terrible things; made of bats, spiders and squids stood before her. They seemed to feel her presence, but didn't know what she was. Her mother, exhausted to the point of collapse, also felt her presence and stopped.
"I am here mother. We must depart." Raven gripped under her mother's arms to support her and that was when it happened.
Azarath was the mystic's heaven. Once a part of the soul was cast through the Great Door, the remaining soul was bound to Azarath within its soul boundaries. Dozens of new souls, steeped in tragedy, had been brought in over Azarath's thousand years in a futile attempt to balance karma and allow deceased citizens physical form.
A true-born of Azarath was the greatest host for another soul - as they are of Azarath. Azar, daughter of Azar, the first true-born of Azarath, held the soul of her mother in harmony and love. Centuries of experience and life had resided in her, to guide the inhabitants of Azarath. Raven Wayne was the second true-born of Azarath.
With the possibility of escape, one thousand souls flooded into Raven. Arella and Raven were last living inhabitants of the once, great Azarath. Raven was one of the few powers great enough to bridge the soul barrier of Azarath and travel freely through the realms.
As she teleported, one thousand lives bombarded Raven's conscious mind. She felt her own identity slip away into oblivion. It was a hard landing for her and her mother into Wayne manor as the last of her psyche drowned in a sea of Azarathian souls.
Epilogue
The Wrath of Trigon
His demons of wings, tentacles, teeth, and mandibles fought for the privilege to present the trophies of the slaughter to their master. They were a glorious sight, covered in the blood and bits of his creators. As promised, he had not lifted a single finger as he witnessed the slaughter. Trigon smiled as he gazed upon once glorious Azarath. There were no souls, no life remaining, as barren as the dark of space…Dead. Their hubris finally punished.
One of the largest of his demons approached and kneeled before him, dozens of severed heads lines the suckers on its tentacles. A worthy prize!
"Your deeds have appeased me. I am happy. Did you feast on the souls of all these fools?" The demon stared at him, befuddled. True… they were brutal, effective killing machines, but they were stupid. No matter, so long as they did his bidding.
"How many souls of the Azarath fools did you consume?" inquired Trigon, uncharacteristically patient.
The demon made whirring, clicking sounds, flagellating its tentacles to-and-fro. It was a base language, but he understand it well enough. Every single soul, one thousand eternal Azarathian souls had flooded into and escaped with the woman. The demon was attempting to explain more, but was cut short.
Decapitated Azarathian heads cascaded to the ground as Trigon tore the demon's own head from its body, glaring into its many eyes.
"NOT ONE SOUL?!"
Trigon's roar carried across the deep reaches of space. Buildings that had stood in Azarath for centuries crumbled to dust before him. The demons farther back cowered before such wrath while the six directly in front of him were liquefied, leaving only black ooze.
Trigon paused, collected himself and marveled at the head he still held in his hand. With his other hand, he gestured to the rest of his Nebu demons to draw them closer while they crouched and cowered in fear.
"Well lads, it seems the rewards will have to be postponed. You've only finished half the job. We have an old cow, fat with the souls of my enemy, to fetch."
Trigon forced his will across dimensional space and, once again, began the terrible process that would allow him access into Earth.