Jonathon Postlethwaite and the Seed of Corruption

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CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

Silus Flax crawled. The thunderous roar around him heralded the beginning of the end for the city of Dubh. Already in the streets above him the artificial sky had opened in great swirling rifts to the real sky of other dimensions as the Field Walls began to collapse.

The Halls of Machines great and venerated domes cracked and swayed as tremors rocked the city where less well constructed buildings were sliding, like packs of cards, into the streets. Winds generated by the pressure changes sucked out the rubble and ruins of the chaos in black great vortices, in other areas millions of tons earth and rock slid into Dubh from rifts which had opened deep below the surface of other dimensions, only to be whipped up by the hurricane force winds and taken out again.

The unfortunate inhabitants of the foul city, scuttling like ants for sanctuaries they would never find, died by the million. But there was another wind blowing in Dubh, one which began to leech the energy from all things here. It was causing the dimension walls of this place to collapse. Silus Flax crawled toward its source.

He had seen the boy sprinting arm in arm with a young woman through the whirling chaos to the inviting glow of a dimension door across the street. He cursed him.

Moments later another figure, a great hunched and horned beast with the body of the Tallman rebel across its shoulder, had, hurtled in the same direction. Flax spat and crawled onwards towards the hum and glow of Rislo’s machine.

Inside the ruin which hid the machine, Flax crawled and now smiled. In the midst of a vortex of dust and debris, he watched and felt the machine devouring his kingdom, his dream. He felt the energy flowing through the room.

First, the energy of this place, that energy which bound its matter together would flow into its heart, then the whole physical world would collapse into the now bright blue pulsing orb. Flax approached the machine.

The emperor of this dying world launched himself at it and tore the power reservoir from its seat, his fingers sank into it. Wrenched from the machine the orb continued to pulse, it had gone beyond the point of no return. The Field Walls of the now impossible dimension of Dubh had begun to irreversibly contract.

Now Flax had become the machine which had drained the energies of Dubh and channelled them into the reservoir. He was the structure which enabled the process to continue and remained physically intact. Now different energies flowed through Flax. All the corruption and evil which had built up over the long dark years here, sped towards and through Flax and into the Seed of Corruption he held in his hand. He heard the screams and pleadings of legions dark souls as they passed through him. They gave him strength, charged him with their evil. Then the great malign spirit of Dubh itself surged through him howling in derision through Flax into the Power Reservoir. Now he felt a pressure building about him, a great final wall of energy advanced toward him from all directions. The physical matter of the city of Dubh was now beginning to reduce to atoms and piling up around Flax, the single channel into the black hole of the power reservoir. In an instant Dubh had gone.

All that now remained was a dark sphere the size of the room Flax stood in. He seemed to be inside the reservoir himself, but alive and sentient. For a moment all was silent, activity ceased. All that remained of the vile world which had spawned Flax was condensed around him and Flax was holding the walls back, there would be no final blink out of existence for him.

He grinned and globs of saliva glistened at the corners of his mouth. It was all his now, now HE was Dubh! All the corrupt energy that had dictated his life and the lives of millions of others in Dubh was collected in the dark globe now welded into the flesh of Flax’s right hand. They sustained him. It was his! He was the master of this Seed of Corruption. Master! He laughed in hysterical irony.

“You have given me the power of gods my beautiful, beautiful boy! You were the guardian of a golden gate, a gate to my divinity!” he screamed to no-one but himself.

Flax’s face now took on a mask of grim determination, his eyes blazed. Now was his time to fly. All this power had been given to him as the malign spirit of Dubh and its armies of corrupt souls passed through him. They relinquished their power to him. He was their last hope. As long as he survived they would not be lost, even they had a hope of redemption eventually. He had needed power and they, and the soul of the city had given it to him. Now they were his, all their knowledge all their souls and all their evil; his to command and use.

In an instant he tore through the fabric of the realms which sought to crush him out of existence. He had the power and knowledge now. Jonathon had unwittingly given it to him and Flax had one goal, to thank him and his friends personally for this gift of gifts in the best way he knew how and a thousand new ways the knowledge the Seed of Corruption was now showing him. Jonathon could not hide from him; Flax would search the dimensions until he found him, until he found his beautiful boy....and thanked personally in only the way he could, for making him a god.

THE END….but just the beginning

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