Chapter 6.
In the darker recesses of the Cloud, down long forgotten corridors and once sealed doorways, in a room full of relics that time had forgotten, Azrael resided, as he had for many generations, in the prison the old scholars had forced him into. He sat behind a huge stone desk, cane by his side, now completely unnecessary, listening to the pitiful wretches that obeyed him deliver their report. Of course the two upstarts had gotten away. He should have gone after them himself really. Not that it mattered too much, he supposed. They would be, at most, a thorn in his side, an annoyance that he would pluck out and discard at the first possible moment. There were only two of them, after all.
As he sat, half listening to the excuses pouring forth from the mouths of the vessels he now commanded, he gazed around the room. Large, and square, littered from wall to wall and floor to ceiling with relics and antiques from a different era, all on various shelfs and tables. He supposed it had been quite lucky that the scholars had gone digging into the depths of...what was it everyone had called it now? The Cloud? What a ridiculous name. He would have still been asleep though, if they hadn't gone poking their noses into the past. He smiled at that thought. People always believed that important lessons could be learned from the past. Well, there weren’t many lessons that he was happy to teach, but one of them was how to obey. Obey or die.
The men attending had finished their report, although he had barely heard a word of it.. His glittering amber eyes snapped back to them and he growled at them, "Fine. Get out. Send Percy in."
They bowed and scraped as they backed away towards the door, desperate to get out of his sight. Pathetic. Almost as soon as they had left, the man he had asked for, Percy, walked in. When he had been himself he had been middle aged, in incredibly good shape, and extremely knowledgeable. Azrael had known straight away that he could control and use this man to great effect, and had proceeded to do so.
Percy stood before him now. He was like Noah in build and stature, almost eight feet tall, and clothed in a suit of armor from the past that Azrael had procured from one of the other vaults upon waking. His enormous breastplate shone with a faint light, and underneath that he wore an unusual chainmail, that covered his chest, and extended to completely cover one arm and hand. The arm and hand that were not covered held a wicked looking trident, again one that shone just like the breastplate. Percy stood in the dimly lit room, saluted, and awaited his orders.
"Ah there you are," exclaimed Azrael, almost as if surprised to see him. "I have...a little something for you to do. I believe some acquaintances of yours were here earlier. Caused an awful scene, tried to burn me to death, can you believe it? Anyway, I need you to go find them and kill them, as quickly as possible. I know that you know who they are, I’ve been digging around in your head for long enough now. Elijah and Molly, the conductor and the inventor. Make sure they don’t disturb my plans again. That is all."
Percy stood there for a moment. Azrael gazed at him, almost amused. The part of Percy that was still in control was struggling, desperately fighting against Azrael, who had sunk into his brain and now controlled him like a puppet. It was genuinely entertaining, but ultimately futile. There was too little of the man he had originally been left to do anything at all, really.
"Well? Get on with it!" Azrael snarled. Unable to do anything else, Percy saluted wordlessly, turned and stalked off to hunt his prey.
Once he was gone Azrael stood and strode around the room, contemplating things. The wave of ether should have taken hold fully in the city below, encasing everybody. It had always acted quickly. Just the conductors of ether would be left to contain. They had always been impervious to his particular brand of control and containment. He had never managed to figure out why, but it didn't matter. It was almost over already, and it had only just begun. The beauty of it never ceased to amaze him. It was almost instant every time, like a blanket covering the entire city, snuffing out any resistance before it could begin. None of them mattered anyway, and this place would soon succumb to the ether below, just as he had planned all those long years ago.
He laughed to himself, and walked towards the doors. He wanted to head out and up to the surface and survey all that would soon be his.
A short time later, at the very bottom of the Cloud, Percy arrived at one of the two remaining cable carriage stations that were still working. Quickly and silently, he started the carriage going down, and climbed aboard. He stood, still as a statue, in the middle of it as it descended, waiting and ready to do his master's bidding. Something inside him seemed to scream and wail, begging him not to do what he was about to, but it was a faraway noise, irritating like the buzzing of an insect, and it was paid no mind. All that mattered now was pleasing Azrael.