Chapter 43: SKIPH-0036-1 – Birds Aren’t Real

It's often joked that the birds work for the bourgeoisie, but the joke tellers do not know that the bourgeoisie work for the birds. Ophelia knew better. She was the one that summoned the darn things, demons from another dimension. Her great-grandfather had summoned them first. Solomon had devised a key that could open a portal to Hell and pleaded with them for a way to instate order, to reign in the madhouse that the ancient demon N'as had brought with her. Instead, what they offered was Law.

There was a subtle difference between Order and Law, but you had to squint carefully to find it. Laws could create order, as they brought structure to an anarchic system. Order in society would necessitate the creation of laws to keep itself stable. Ophelia needed both, but her control was slipping, and she knew that. Her Justice was no match for the trials ahead.

Fingers wrapped in white gloves picked up a framed picture seated on her panopticon, brushing against the glass.

Ophelia pushed her lengthy black hair out of the way, tucking it behind her pointed ears and biting her lip with sharp teeth. Centuries of breeding with the demons had caused each successive child to become more like them, more Neverlander than Human with each passing generation. She could see her reflection, the deep red irises, her pale red skin, the vestigial tail poking out from behind her back. Past her reflection, a picture of her father, the late Oberon. His deep red eyes gazed back through the frame, judging her in silence.

No doubt her father had moments where he questioned the Laws as well, where he'd stood there, glancing at a painting of his father, their father, and their great-grandfather. How lucky it must be to have been Solomon, to have done everything right. Solomon established both Law and Order in his time; he sealed vast tracts of the Neverlands inside barriers and fought against the Stargarden and the Council of Knots. He established the first organization to protect Humanity, run by humans and for humans.

All Ophelia had done was run the organization into the ground and permit the most significant breach of Neverlands ever to occur. Their funding was bleeding dry as donors switched to supporting magical warrior organizations, blinded by profits and ignorant of the threat Divinity had posed. Their scientists had been lost in greater and greater numbers, despite the prevalence of science being at an all-time high. They couldn't even keep their existence a secret; a group of anartists openly mocked them with the creation of those 'SCP' memes.

Ophelia still hadn't determined which traitorous lout had joined the anartists and given them the idea, but when she found them, she would flay their guts open with her curved horns and stretch their skin over a sun-soaked rock. Their punishment would make them wish an actual demon had administered Justice instead.

The anartist didn't even have the decency to use SKIPH's name in the memes. Names had power; she knew that much. So when the name SKIPH was spoken, the organization had tools to track down and eliminate the speaker. It was one of the first inventions they'd stolen from the Neverlands. If they'd used the proper lettering, the organization could indoctrinate the speakers directly. Hunt them down for uttering the words. It was how they kept their image scrubbed from the online space, even though many whistleblowers had tried to prove their existence.

Only one had succeeded. Madeline Crisp. The name left a foul taste in Ophelia's mouth. But, try as they might, they couldn't stop that madwoman from telling the truth to all of America. That brat was responsible for the worst outbreak of Neverlanders in the organization's history. Her staff had worked tirelessly to spin that Bronx story, to make it seem like drugs were responsible for the monster everyone had seen. They'd even pulled the race card, played against America's fear and hatred of different skins; it had left a bad taste in Ophelia's mouth. She'd fed the one responsible to Malphas as soon as she'd learned, but it had been too late to stop the pundits from running wild.

Madeline was not fond of her organization's methods; no Divinity enjoyed being beholden to SKIPH's laws, for sure, but the rot that had been running through SKIPH since the days of Oberon had caused them to make mistakes. Those mistakes would compound, creating injustices for the young Divine and souring her towards SKIPH's management. Mistakes like the Bronx incident, Ophelia learned, were the breaking point for Madeline. Fed up with SKIPH hunting her down and managing her behaviors, she did the unthinkable and fought them off on live television.

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She let everyone know about SKIPH, its tenets, and its methods. She spilled it all on live television, and all Ophelia could do was watch and let her jaw drop. They cut off all communication with America and sealed off the borders; towns on the edge of America were wiped from existence in a matter of days. It took months to truly secure the borders, silence all dissidents and announce to the world that America was now a totalitarian dictatorship, but they had managed it barely. It was their first Code Black incident in the organization's history, and now the movement of Venus threatened to be the second.

The Neverlands began to infect the planet rapidly during the first Code Black incident. Fair Folk incursions opened all over; keeping the rest of the globe in order was a struggle. Ophelia had bled herself over the circles for weeks, summoning more demons to flock to her aid. No longer was Malphas and Andrealphus enough, now they needed Caim, Naberius, and Phenex; more and more demonic birds had shuffled out from the Key to flood the world in darkness. Demon Prince Lucifer would supply Ophelia with all the feathery dukes and duchesses she could provide in exchange for the witch's blood. That was their deal.

With each bird that Ophelia brought forth from the mouth of Hell, the barrier between reality and fantasy thinned. Ophelia had to promise herself that she would stop short of summoning Lucifer. These transactions were for a greater good; they would seal off the incursion points opened up by these errant divinities, and the flood of Neverlanders into this world would cease. That was why she could justify it once more; the reports had spilled in. Three times their name had been spoken; Nebulossom Mercury, Nebulossom Venus, and someone new had spoken of SKIPH. Two minutes later, the first Movement of Venus was observed.

There could be no coincidences in the world of the Neverlanders. If two things happened in short succession, all odds were they were linked. Setting the picture frame down, Ophelia opened her drawers and retrieved a blade. Ophelia stood, walking from her panopticon and away from her observations. Her steps drew her down a spiraling staircase, a dungeon stained with her blood and engraved with dozens of stone circles.

Ophelia walked with purpose; she knew which demon to summon. There could be no other more suitable for the task ahead. She could only spare a small amount of blood before being hospitalized, but Ophelia could be sure her demons would keep Law in the organization while she was otherwise indisposed. Of course, they would have to handle the Code Black incident by themselves, but if there were one thing you could say about demons, it would be to praise their reliability.

Ophelia opened a gap in her flesh, crimson ichor staining the blade and dripping into a bowl. "Lucifer, princess of Feathers and Sound. Your plumage unfurls only for my embrace. I call upon you to bring forth Reym. Castles exist to be plundered by yourself and none other, and kings shall find themselves parted by your blade. Provide me with your succor. End this dispute between myself and mine enemies, Reym! Please come forth at my beck and--"

"Awwh, babe. If you just wanted a booty call, you coulda asked." Ophelia's cries were cut short by an explosion of down. A lilac demon in a feathery cloak sat upon the circle of blood, yawning and stretching out. Black wings and feathers for hair decorated her form, soft powder-green thighs grinding against each other as Reym found a comfortable position to sit in. "Let's dispense with the rest of the speech; I'm no good with pomp and circumstance. I'm a Countess of Pride with thirty legions, Reym. Nice to meetcha. Lucy said you needed a little loving..." Reym gave a wink, the feathers in her eyelashes lidding her crimson eye halfway. "So, which royal brat is giving you trouble today?"

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