Exodus

[Tearen Wover]

Shortly after relaying its message to the other Institute members in Nippur, Nealaphh spoke briefly with Mr. Riddle and encouraged him to revert back to his bound form, if for no other reason than it was the most efficacious way for Nealaphh and the blossoming dark lord to travel. During the flight, where Nealaphh continuously clutched Riddle in a secure grip, the two discussed the horcrux's plans for an academy of arcane learning within the Pale Moors. Nealaphh regretfully did not have too much to offer the wizard in the way of information, as the God-Mind itself had never personally visited, so anything Nealaphh knew was something that Tom could just as easily find on the Dataverse.

Nealaphh itself was surprised at the might and speed of this otherwise diminutive form. Taking into account the presence of a tailwind and the drag caused by Tom's bulk, Nealaphh hypothesized that this corvidian body had a top aerial speed of nearly eighty miles an hour. How, exactly, this otherwise mundane body could produce such speed and strength would be something Nealaphh would have to investigate later, but it hypothesized that the disproportionate strength may have something to do with a sort of conservation of potential energy. It was something Nealaphh would have to bring up with Tom at a later date.

As it stood, it was only a matter of minutes before Nealaphh and Tom were ten miles away from Nippur as had been indicated. Nealaphh set Tom down on a small rocky outcropping that jutted unceremoniously from the dusty desert floor. The sand was a robust orange color, and large swathes of dry scrub hissed and whispered in tune with the ever-present sciroccos. The sun, though still harsh and relentless, was beginning to sag in the sky. Given that there were no clouds in the sky, apart from the inky plume that rose on the western horizon, it was likely to be an unremarkable sunset. Nealaphh, still wounded, now reverted back to its humanoid form and sat unclothed on the warm sandstone terrace. Its otherwise perfectly smooth, obsidian body was pocked and scratched from head to toe, with hairline fractures spiderwebbing their way across its torso. The shiny, ferrous fluid that it bled has ceased to ooze forth from the larger gouges in its stony flesh, but glittering swatches of the stuff still stained it here and there.

Nealaphh looked odd without its robe...more vulnerable looking. Its limbs, no longer shrouded by heavy woven cloth, were gangly and svelte. Though it would be an exaggeration to say that its body was emaciated, there was a defined gauntness to its features. The thing that Tom took most notice of, though it was hard to spot with Nealaphh's hunched, seated posture, was the very pronounced belly button that the God-Mind had. It begat a whole slew of implications and mysteries that Tom was eager to explore, and yet, there was still a measure of uncertainty between the two of them. Tact was probably still a virtue at this point. So, with the wind and sun on their backs, the pair of damaged Primes sat and stared in relative silence at the smoking city of Nippur in the distance, scanning for any sign of movement in their direction...

[Demetri Malius]

Demetri rushed through the sand, keeping himself invisible to the naked eye until felt afar enough from Nippur. As he faded back into view, he gave a glance back at the burning city. It was a shame really. As the sandy winds blew across his face, he could only feel distaste for the whole ordeal. The sooner he was out of the Dunes, the better.

The thief turned back to the east, pressing forwards and shielding his eyes as he searched for the rendezvous. Little less than an hour passed before the thief saw a speck in the distance, quickening his pace as he approached. Demetri began to summon a small item into his satchel while he walked, however it took more time that he initially thought. His body still ached from the battle, and he was starting to feel the heaviness from his injuries, but he would not show weakness.

As he approached the God-Mind, the thief realized there was another prime in their vicinity, and it took a moment before Demetri realized it was the book beside it. With closer sensual inspection it appeared to be the true form of the wizard he fought alongside earlier. Surely, he was one of the names that he did not recognize on the list of institute members. No matter, he still had to speak to the headmaster. Once the thief approached the God-Mind, he began to speak, the words floating through the air as he relayed as much information as he could.

"Greetings Headmaster. I had no knowledge of you being here during the battle, but I have news from what I had seen. The group who seems to call themselves LAW has taken over the city, and two members of New Babylon lie dead. Victor Wolfe, who is also a part of our organization, and Erik Vrell. From what else I was able to gather, it seems that the orange-haired warlock was somehow sent off by Victor before his death. I can only assume that he had been banished."

the thief reported his findings quickly and was straight to the point. In times of war there was no use beating around the bush, and information was crucial.

"In addition," Demetri began, clearing his throat before continuing. " Recent events aside from this war have opened my eyes to the differences between the Institute's goals and my own. Conflicting, at the least, as it is most likely that my career will most likely interfere with the image of the organization. I wish to resign from my position as Vice Dean of Unity. However..." The thief paused for a moment to make sure he still had the headmaster;'s attention, but it was obvious that the God-Mind was always attentive, not one to become angry or aggravated after a resignation, unlike some of the thief's past clients. The thief would expect no less from the Prime from what he knew. "I do wish to proceed to keep contact with you and aid the organization when I can. If you ever wish to gain any information on anything or anyone, or perhaps need some item already in possession of another, don't hesitate to contact me."

The thief then quickly produced a small pouch from his satchel, in which he gave a toss to the God-Mind, which then seemed to be caught mid-air as it hovered beside him. "If you wish to send someone else to me, give them one of these tokens that I have imbued with a touch that I will recognize. I will see that they are taken care of."

With his final statements the thief glanced at the prime book, as it most likely heard his words as well.

Nealaphh has been given a pouch of Thieve's Coins.

[Tom Marvolo Riddle]

It had been a much more simple matter to retake my human form even after only ten minutes of recovery. Something about the blind helplessness of the form simplified resting or perhaps it was the nature of the battle around me and source of my power being drawn from it. Whatever the reason, I was once again whole, though still far more phantom like that I would have liked. The burning pain riddling my spine, cover and paper was there in the back of my mind, but it was tolerable in the most unbearable sense.

“It’s unfortunate my assault on the city’s invaders was a fruitless venture in securing an alliance.” I said, weariness riddling my voice. Smoke was still pluming from some unfathomably primitive hobble just behind the wall. The wait for my newfound allies apparently was going to take much longer than I had hoped.

I gave a side long glance to the being who called itself Nealaphh, still wondering about its curious appearance but broaching such a topic at the moment seemed… taboo. Instead I thought about something else. For all the time I had spent with him, and I was often skilled in understanding most within a handful of hours, Nealaphh was one of the few that I could not classify. There was no humanity to derive a nature or set of goals from.

My fingers fumbled with the diary that housed my soul; even with my thoughts on such topics as my companion other things also came first. Cracks upon my cover burned with a fiery weirlight stained with drying ebon ink. That my form was burning was unusual, but then so was what I had infused within the tome once upon a time.

The genderless entity nodded once before its thought-speak rang out quietly, “In time though they may come recognize your contributions to the battle and the boon they owe to you.” His expression was unreadable. The timber in his telepathy though was unmistakable, as such that I felt his was of a similar quality to my own state of mind.

Both of us bore our wounds on our sleeves so to speak, mine perhaps literally.

I sighed, “Something unusual did happen. That one individual spotted you through your guise without any reason to know you, and the red haired usurper-“ A rumble forced its way through my words, “absconded with my power, my knowledge and turned it against me. Both are new experiences, are more to be expected?” Pain shot down s my construct’s backside. Everything for an instant stiffened before I relaxed my inadvertent grip upon my binding.

My magic had been defiled by someone neither worthy nor capable of wielding them properly! Then. Then! When the advantage was mine to end the threat and possibly collect artifact of some sort, I had been interrupted not once but twice. And I was still blind to the ways of things. Though the Dataverse had satisfied some of those particular requests. And fortunately Nealaph himself had been able to provide me a detour enough to obtain the corpse of the one who had fallen from the sky by my hand.

A preservation charm and banishing it ensured it would keep until I retrieved it from a pocket universe.

Waiting for a response I began flipping through the assortment of pages that comprised me and catalogued the injuries done and what spells would be best to rectify them. Among them was a letter held within me like a bookmark, the one Omni had struck down, the one requested me to deliver.

I chuckled despite the ire burning within even as I read aloud the name upon the corner, “Demetri Malius.” The one I had hoped to contact in Nealaphh’s absence, the one who we were waiting on now and the other. If luck was with the one this letter had been destined for, he’d be coming to us. That is if he had survived the onslaught, to which I was skeptical of. If what had been done to me was just a taste of what these new worlds had to offer, then what hope did others have? It was questionable at best.

Already my magics had bested two foes. Though one had survived, if barely, due to the interference of the other, retribution was still due there. I would see it-

Someone was approaching in garb befitting the area around us. The need for such clothing conjured a number of reasons, the most primary was survival. Human, or human like. An entity bound by biological needs. Perhaps the one in question? It was a queer look to say the least be in some ways fitting for the form presented.

He had completely ignored me which was barely understandable. I was nothing more than someone else merely in the company of another. However he seemed to pay particular attention to Nealaphh which provoked the man into prattling. A whole speech even which was somewhat concerning, had this man been practicing the entire way from Nippur?

Vice Dean of Unity.

That matched with records that Nealaphh had provided, they were listed in the Monotruth’s glossary that he had given me or was it something else. Either way the information was there and that made this man the recipient of the charge I was given by the… mail lady, if one could describe the entity that could match Nealaphh in similar nature before Omni himself struck her down.

When he finished his entire monologue he simply turned to look at me, no more than glance but it was enough to give me an excuse to hand over the letter.

“It seems Nealaphh you were right about him. I wonder why the Courier’s last act was to charge me with delivering this.” I said with a bit more strength than I really had; presentation was important and I held my tone to a ‘knowing’ sound. It would grant me some level mystery while implying a greater scope of current events.

Immediately it earned me a second longer glance as he took the letter from hand. I could practically hear the gears turning as he measured me. As cliché as it sounds, it fit the situation the perfectly. And what were clichés if not the stereotypical representation of life? They were stereotypes for a reason because of their common place nature. Further more the fact that neither of us recognized each other meant any combat we had both seen had been separate. It gave me the advantage that I knew more of him than he of me. Those narrowed eyes and the piercing stare told me more than I needed to know. There was some intelligence behind them, reckless possibly but still intelligent. Though I could been simply be mistaking intelligence for unadorned, hard-won, experience.

Time would tell.

[Tearen Wover]

Well. This was an unpleasant surprise.

Of all the people that Nealaphh had recruited to the cause of the Omniverse Institute, Demetri had seemed like the most willing to put time and effort into achieving the grand visions therein. Well...perhaps Okor would have this sort of vindication too, but Nealaphh had not heard from or of the Plague Marine for several days now. Longer, at least, than an exile in the Astral Verse requires after being killed. Perhaps it would merit investigation once things had become more stable. The God-Mind palmed the satchel of coins in its hand pensively as it watched the thief venture away from the rendevouz point. It would not normally physically hold something if it could be avoided, but the God-Mind was troubled enough that this...residual creature comfort gave it a respite from the furious thoughts storming across its infinite consciousness.

The next step, of course, would wait to see if anyone else showed up. Nealaphh had a feeling that there might be more, but given that Victor had been killed and would take three days to resurrect, waiting around indefinitely for hypothetical refugees just did not seem like a productive use of time. No; Nealaphh was done being dashed against the rocks of fate by the equally relentless tides of fortune. Many of the puzzle pieces to Nealaphh's first major victory in the Omniverse were settling into place. Time was of the essence, because this accursed dimensional penitentiary was nothing if not fickle in its consistency.

Nealaphh rose to its feet, the setting sun sending beams of carmine light bouncing off of the God-Mind's mineral body. Tom watched in silence as the shadow went about summoning its iconic robe, as well as something that was...more difficult to identify. Whatever it was that Nealaphh was making, the Enigma was weaving its structure together from the sands of the desert itself, cauterizing the various silicate minerals into a solid black glass that was not entirely unlike Nealaphh's own body. The wizard watched in rapt interest as various unknowable components were fitted together in part both by Omnilium and by the God-Mind's own deft mastery of the telekinetic arts.

"...and what is this contraption going to be?" Tom asked, stepping slowly around the manifesting machine...if it could truly be called such. From what little that Tom knew about muggle engineering, the shapes and angles did not seem to be structurally sound. The God-Mind was silent for a few moments more before finally lowering its hand, droplets of rainbow scintillation evaporating into the cool dusk air.

Transport.

And indeed it was. The entire vessel seemed to resemble a sort of chariot, though it had no runners by which to hitch a beast of burden. Its form was angular and singularly geometric, and a pyramidal canopy stretched over the platform on which Tom could only assume to be the passenger space. How it propelled itself or steered was a complete mystery, but Mr. Riddle had come to expect this sort of thing from Nealaphh.

Let us depart this arid nadir of progress and make way to the damp zenith that is the Moors. After carrefully considering your offer, I have come to conclude that an arcane approach to the Gigaton Hammer would be best after all. After you.

Nealaphh gestured to the central platform of the chariot, where Tom, with some admitted sense of anticipation boarded. The God-Mind followed close behind, moving in behind the wizard as the canopy noiselessly sealed itself over their heads. There seemed to be a sort of bench grafted into the rear of the ship, so Tom opted to make himself comfortable.

Nealaphh, on the other hand, had a different plan of action. Once Tom had safely taken his seat, the Enigma abruptly began to dissolve into a thick black smog that sank down around the wizard's feet and was subsequently siphoned into what Tom now understood to be vents. A moment passed, and all of a sudden, the Chariot thrummed to life.

Swirling green leylines of power traced themselves across the greater surfaces of the vehicle, and the black glass that formed the canopy now turned transparent to offer a panoramic view to its sole occupant. The connection between Nealaphh and the machine was evident, in that the recurring thumps of whatever mechanisms churned within this obsidian hull had the double drumming of a heartbeat. This was more than some crude machine; it was alive, and its soul was Nealaphh. With no further fanfare, the Chariot lifted swiftly into the air and rocketed forwards, honestly catching Tom off guard as the acceleration was greater than even the most deft of flying brooms.

Mr. Riddle peered out the pane of glass behind him and watched the copper desert sands whip past like a receding sheet of surf. A question presented itself, at least, a question more pressing than the litany of other inquiries that the wizard's mind craved to have answered.

"Impressive. But why didn't we travel in this fashion the first time?"

There was silence for almost a minute, and just when Tom was beginning to suspect that Nealaphh might not be able to communicate while bonded to this craft, a small tittering of words flitted across his awareness.

I am now confident in my decision to like you.

[Tom Marvolo Riddle]

Decision to like me?

I cocked an eyebrow, failing to keep skepticism off my face. Such a statement coming from me would have been recognition of someone else's strength and usefulness both for and against me. Maybe it's the nature of our minds being isolated from one another but I couldn't help but wonder if my eldritch chauffeur was coming from a similar standpoint. Regardless my initial goals in getting involved in the war of Nippur had been satisfied; the disappearing dunes behind me were evidence enough of that.

Glancing over the vehicle I couldn't help but call back to the halls of Hogwarts, how careful measurements never came up accurate or ever the same even thrice in the same hour. The answer then had been elusive. After nearly fifty years on a shelf it was obvious now as it should have been. Furthermore this vehicle had that same sense of non-conformity.

It was all wrapped up in geometries that played a vital role to the functional use of both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. They didn't conform to the modern concepts of space and time simply due to fact that it was willed so, whether by Neal's hand or the omnipotent power of magic. Such an act of creating something like this would have taken me months of research at least until now. It was frightfully idealized, perhaps a boon… though it struck a chord of dread in my chest.

What would someone with no concept of reality at all do with such force? And was Nealaphh one of those individuals?

"For now I'll accept that at its face value, but I'm suspecting-" I paused realizing that I was about to pursue a circular loop of logic, "that is perhaps the most dangerous statement I've ever heard."

The only response I got was more of the eerie tittering as the landscape began to bleed to simple color as our speed accelerated further. Or mayhap speed itself was constant but time was not. My first experience in the Nexus and interaction with Nealaphh proved just how mutable time was to begin with.

Judging the sound as a desire for companionable silence, I acquiesced to focusing on the earlier statement regarding the gigaton hammer. The construction of such would be an undertaking as great as the Horcruxes themselves in terms of complexity, but simplistic in execution. That he had settled on me as their orchestrator also simplified other matters when I had Hogwarts set up… it would give me the means through which to ensure the development of such a weapon to its perfect form.

Within minutes I settled into a rhythmic flurry of calculations, mostly recording them on my diary itself for lack of a better writing surface or means to store such securely. It was only when the entire contraption rippled like liquid to a halt that I took notice of the surroundings. Halt however was not entirely accurate. The entire cabin seemed to warp inward as the panorama of the outside grew wider. I could feel my stomach dropping out from under me with the maw of the gate began looming into a wide all consuming distortion. As if it were reaching out to devour us as trespassers, its teeth maestrom in place of the normally serene event horizon, now a vortex of radiance. It was only an afterthought thought that I understood the gateway was not even shaped correctly.

Power.

I had the sudden realization that the concept of Non-Euclidean geometry applied to possibly to the outside of the vehicle as much as the inside. Space was indeed relative as we moved through the whole of the Nexus portal. The reality I was audience too could very well be how the being in front of my truly saw the world. Omnilium’s nature, or just a side effect of it diffracting reality as if it were a fluid off of the hull of this… ship? I had no way to even begin to suspect what the case was, but the thought that one could exert this much control over the universe… It was as inviting as horrifying that I myself was not one in control.

Onward we went and my last thought within the Dunes was, if this was how Neal saw things or was this how distorted my mind had become while within the embrace of this abomination?