An Angel’s Thesis

Emperor Gaius, seated on an elevated throne in the center of the room, frowns. Electricity sparks from his golden eyes and his broad shoulders tremble. Thrusting the scepter in his left at Aiden, he says, “You refuse to kneel?”

“We were promised an explanation.”

Gaius hits the ground with his scepter. His curly brown hair and bushy white beard jump from the force of the impact. With a low tone, he says, “You are still new to this land. Very well, I am generous. I shall overlook this disrespect once.”

Aiden holds his tongue. He very much wants to thank the tyrant for his mercy, especially after having them summoned at his own convenience, but doesn’t want to start a commotion. Only by continuously reminding himself that his words could endanger his friends is he able to contain himself.

“Apostles, we are in need of you. This world was once a nightmare, tainted by the Dreaded One, a horror from the stars. At present, we live in a brave new world, one of progress birthed by the fruits of harmony and cooperation, but we are haunted by that bane’s touch. We offer you glory and honor. Liberate us from our nightmare, bring us to our dawn, and your names shall ring across the ages for all–”

“Don’t care. That’s got nothing to do with us.”

“Sceleste pelusia magna! I offer you greatness, opportunity to surmount your tainted body, but you revel in your own filth!” Gaius’ golden eyes spark as he stands. His scepter transforms into a lightning bolt as he raises it overhead. “You are no Apostle! Become ash for I now rectify this mistake!”