The boundless blue of Earth's oceans shimmered far below, a silent witness to the presence of two enigmatic figures suspended in the void—a place beyond physics, beyond comprehension. Cloaked in veils imperceptible to human senses, they stood motionless amid the stars. Though their forms defied recognition, a quiet intensity pulsed from them as their attention was fixed on a modest suburban neighbourhood nestled in the stillness of Utah. There, a child slept peacefully, unaware that his very existence rippled with consequences that would echo far beyond his world.
The senior figure, Lord Khaliel of House Empyrean, spoke. His voice—resonant and ancient—fractured the silence with a language so potent it caused the surrounding molecules to crystallize mid-space.
"This one bears the seventh marker. That brings the count to thirteen."
The figure next to him tensed, unease etching itself into his posture. "To even acknowledge this patten is treason," he said, voice hushed with dread. "The Upper Houses would annihilate us for less—let alone what you're contemplating."
A subtle aureole of power shimmered around Lord Khaliel—a rarity within the Angelic Order for Virtues. His gaze remained fixed, unreadable, as he surveyed the risks of the plan that had been fermenting within his mind.
Elsewhere—an unfathomable distance across the plane of existence- an embassy shone with celestial presences. Representatives from myriad Houses had gathered beneath a dome of glimmering constellations, their attention focused on a Dominion-ranked envoy aligned with House Empyrean. The envoy's address was steady and authoritative until it faltered—then fractured. Mid-sentence, his etheral form began to unravel, thread by luminous thread. Gasps swept the assembly.
With the last of his essence straining against oblivion, he turned to the representative nearest him and uttered words that seemed to bend the very light around them: "The confluence sequence is complete... They know."
Silence followed—but only for a moment. Then, pandemonium. Whispers became roars. Composure shattered. Fear—raw and unfamiliar—crept into the hearts of beings who had not known uncertainty in eons.
Some time later, within the core of House Empyrean's dominion, a chamber suspended between dimensions lay hidden from the gaze of even the most powerful minds. Its structure defied replication—its walls grander than worlds, and the design an impossibility sculpted by craftsmen long gone from the plane of existence. Here, within this sanctum, the power of House Empyrean converged. High-ranking figures—each a force unto themselves—stood encircling their patriarch, Lord Khaliel.
Before them hovered a massive astral map, shifting constantly—its luminous threads spanning galaxies, connecting thousands of confluence points across the known cosmos. With a subtle gesture, Khaliel summoned a ripple through the display. The threads twisted and reformed until Earth emerged at the nexus of a vast, complicated geometric pattern.
"The Registry believes we control seventeen confluence points," Khaliel began, his tone measured, almost clinical. "In truth, we have mapped four hundred and twelve."
He allowed the silence to stretch.
"Ninety-eight of those... converge on Earth."
The breath left the room. The implications were catastrophic. Were this knowledge to reach the Upper Houses, House Empyrean would be erased from existence—not punished, not sanctioned, but unmade.
"My friends," Khaliel continued, his voice gaining edge, "We have a rare chance to sever the leash that binds us—to step beyond the cage the Thrones and Cherubim have constructed and claim a fate of our own design. If we do not act now, we may never get the chance again."
A vassal, eyes wide, broke the silence."But Your Grace… if we proceed, it's war. Not with rivals, but with the Throne Houses themselves—and all who kneel beneath them."
As his words fell, the great map transformed once more. Images flickered into focus—thousands of war vessels cloaked in compressed dimensions, legions of warriors sparring with weapons forged from the fabric of stars, a surveillance web infiltrating domains once thought impenetrable. This was no hopeful ambition. This was preparation.
A wave of whispers surged through the chamber."How long has he been building toward this?"
Lord Khaliel's gaze was unwavering, his response cutting through the murmur like a blade:"Since before the Divine saw fit to breathe life into any of you."
But doubt still lingered, a quiet resistance pressing at the edges of belief.
"The Seraphim forbade Earth," a lieutenant challenged. "Not just to us—to all Houses. The punishment is annihilation. Why would they seal it off unless—"
Khaliel raised a hand. A glimmering crystal rose before him and flared to life, casting flickering projections into the air. The footage was unstable, fragmented—evidence wrested from the jaws of oblivion. Within it: a Throne-class celestial, unmistakable in stature, secretly meeting with non-angelic entities in Earth's orbit. Their features blurred by spatial distortion, but their presence undeniable.
"Three of our observers ceased to exist securing this," Khaliel said softly. "Reduced to primordial light. What they died to capture suggests there is a truth the High Order has buried for millennia."
Tension coiled tight in the room. No one dared speak.
And then, Khaliel faltered.
His form shimmered, destabilizing momentarily as torrents of raw energy rippled through him. The room reacted at once—shock, then fear. His evolution was accelerating.
A senior advisor rushed to his side, whispering in haste,"My Lord—the transition is too far along. If you ascend before the acquisition is complete, we won't be able to hide your status."
Before Khaliel could respond, a blaring alarm echoed through the chamber.
Unauthorized observation posts positioned near Earth were obliterated. One by one. Systematically.
A shared, dreadful understanding passed through those present; they had been discovered.
Khaliel's voice rang out, unwavering, final."Begin the activation. We can no longer afford caution."
He stepped forward, the air itself folding around him as his presence deepened."House Empyrean transforms today. The first strikes have already landed. The only question now is whether we rise to reshape the laws of the Order—or fall as another footnote in its history."