FFM18: A Moment To Think
The attic was roomy and comfortably furnished, at least by Osiris' relatively low standards. There was a mattress with fresh sheets pushed under a large window, and a large mural of a thorny english rose across one wall. Osiris slumped in an old chair with a sigh, his fist hitting the chair arm roughly.
The inkling that had started this entire mess, one tiny tele-empathic angel and her troublesome idea, had been finished. Hope had been destroyed, Ra himself had confirmed his angels' reports and the matter was buried. There wasn't so much as a note scribbled on a corner of lined paper in some book. Peace had been reintroduced in the realms with an iron fist, and all was well.
Or, rather, Osiris had believed. But instead, his world had already begun to crumble. It wasn't fast in a flash or anything, but slow erosion. Now, it was filled with all sorts of timeless magic- being used in ways that spit on the origins of everything.
Jinx had tried to tell him that if he couldn't see it, he shouldn't think about it. And then he saw her. Deceit had turned his mirror- his godly artifact into a flashing device of doom. Merci had called it a "smart phone", and looked at him as if he was not a several millennia old god, but a hermit instead.
He would probably vaporize her one day, Osiris decided. It would be done in a flash and Deceit wouldn't be able to do a damned thing about it.
But if the "smart phone" hadn't been bad enough, his magic- timeless and dear, was being used to flash memories, power neon signs, create cell service. It just wasn't right!
He banged his fist against the chair in anguish. Something had to give, and quickly! Before his world fell apart, and there was nothing left for him to protect.
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