Location: To Atlantis, via travels around The Flat Earth
Timeline: Winter 48
I’d recovered from my death communal and was sure I had discovered key secrets about Dagaal’s whereabouts. Even though I’d searched these same places to try to find that artifact about six hundred years ago, I’d realized that perhaps my earlier searches were less than perfect. I had no choice but to return – the prize that was Dagaal was too great to miss out on.
And yet, there was also the matter of The Grim – for my minions Ramssee and Kaoz were taking longer than expected to complete their mission. I needed to see them too. Since I was anxious to get started on my quest for Dagaal, I conducted a quick vision meeting with my pawns in the Winter of 48. That’s when I gave them the Suicide Potion idea that Prince Diked later used take out his father King Karl. And that’s also when I tried to put the fear of god [me!] into Ramssee and Kaoz in the hopes they’d find The Grim and return to The Cauldron while I was searching for – and hopefully finding – Dagaal. If successful, I’d soon have both ‘Keys to The Kingdom’ in my possession and then the real fun would begin!
My plans in place, it was time for me to go to Atlantis – again.
The journey to the so-called “sunken heart” of Atlantis was not a grand procession with a fleet of ships and banners of my sigil. Such things are for the benefit of mortals and their pathetic need for pomp. I am a being of pure will, a consciousness unbound by the limitations of flesh and bone. I needed no vessel. I could have used The Shard of Varysha again to make my travels easier, but I decided to forego using that magical talisman this time around.
Why take the easy way using The Shard? I asked myself. Where’s the challenge in that? How about doing it the old fashioned way, mate? How about seeing the sights?
As a result, I opted to take the trip like a tourist – well, a godlike tourist. Now since my physical form was but a fleeting thought, a beautiful lie I could put on and take off at will in any form I wanted, I began my travels by shedding my corporeal shell and transformed into a conscious wave of pure “soul” – a current of dark, knowing energy that soon moved across the flat earth. Since I would be travelling through the lands controlled by other immortals, I also protected myself with an external aura crafted from stellarone energy that would further mask my movements from my rivals [picture it as a kind of ‘radar jamming’ interference that would hopefully allow me to fly unnoticed to any gods that might be paying attention].
After leaving TerrVerde I quickly entered the oceans and moved to the deepest depths to further hide my movements. It was an exquisite sensation to travel this way. The cold was meaningless. The pressure of the water, which would have crushed any lesser being into a paste of regret and sorrow, was a gentle embrace. I was a ghost of energy, I was Azazel, and the ocean itself was my servant.
Since I was embarking on a quest to some of my oldest haunts, I decided to take a route that would run me past another long-forgotten, but much beloved sight: the inner Ice Wall. The Mylars – that diminutive race first birthed from my breeding of Pan and Lilith – had constructed both of the famous ice walls that provided the inner rings of the flat earth. Also known as The Children of Mu [their people’s name for their mother Lilith], they’d built the first Ice Wall ages past in order to cut off their home continent of Lemuria from the rest of the world – essentially taking the outer ring of the plane-it for themselves and walling everyone else away with their icy barrier. The Mylars conducted this massive terraforming operation as a direct result of MY actions – they’d enjoyed the flat earth from near the dawn of the world – which meant they lived at a time before I created most of the evil races. Once I started churning out a bunch of creatures they didn’t like, The Children of Mu ran away and built their wall.
Later, when I started terrorizing the people of Atlantis, the Atlanteans begged their friends the Mylars for help. The Mylars then built a second ice Wall inside the first to provide a refuge for the people of Atlantis to escape to [and an additional buffer against the world for themselves]. That inner wall is the land mass the people of today call “Antarctica” and most of the mortals on the flat earth consider it to be the edge of the world – in fact it is merely the gateway to portions of the plane-t that most of you know nothing about. In any event, the inner wall was built and most of those who survived the ruins of Atlantis fled beyond that portal to find refuge – and to ‘help’ celebrate their departure I used the Amulet of Zyphor to lock them inside their prison!
I later had a little fun with the Atlanteans when they tried to rescue a daughter of Eve named Debor who was in possession of the Shard of Varysha. It seems the Amorosi elves (brethren of the Atlanteans) were helping Debor to escape beyond the Ice Wall with the Shard. I showed up announced just as Debor was about to pass through the inner Ice Wall – not only did I kill everyone in sight (including Debor), but I also got my hands on The Shard as well. How’s that for a Win-Win!?!
In any event, it had been centuries since my last visit to The Atlantis Wall [aka Antarctica] and when I got there I didn’t spend much time – quite frankly there wasn’t much to see. It was pretty much the same – a giant wall of ice that remained the prison portal behind which the remains of the Atlantean people still lived. Ho Hum. Kind of a let down, huh?
And so I quickly moved on – directly my course towards the ruins of the original Atlantis. Along the way I passed over the “North Pole” [which you Flat Earthers of today are wise enough to know was not at the top of a globe planet, but instead marked the Magnetic Center of the Flat Earth]. It was another stop of my little history tour.
As I neared my ‘the pole,’ a more profound sensation began to filter through the inky blackness. It was a faint, tormented hum that only a god could perceive—I recognized it as the unmistakable essence of Gaia trapped within the magnetic pole. The hum was a constant, low-level thrum of despair, a symphony of agony that resonated through the very fabric of this pathetic world. It was a part of her, a piece of her lumenarc soul, which Lucifer and I had long ago imprisoned at the very core of this flat plane-it. I felt a surge of cold, dispassionate triumph. Gaia was here – and she would be here for eternity. The irony was not lost on me. The very being I had helped to imprison was the core that still anchored this pathetic world. The very life she was meant to nurture was now a prisoner to her despair. Her pain was my triumph, a daily reminder of a glorious victory that no one else would ever understand.
I basked in the sinister enjoyment of Gaia’s pain for a moment more before pushing on, the faint, tormented hum fading as I crossed over the pole and moved away.
When I finally arrived at the watery grave of Atlantis, the ruins were a sight to behold – a beautiful, ruined monument to my past cruelty.
Ah, if not for Kaelin... I thought to myself, remembering the famous architect of Atlantis who dared to try to save the city when I sent my Leviathan against it – and he nearly succeeded!
It’s a story I told before, but in case you missed it – when news of my Leviathan’s approach reached Atlantis, panic spread among their people – just as I’d hoped – for it was clear that even with all their advanced technology, they couldn’t stop the monster from devastating their world. I’ll give Kaelin credit, he somehow figured out that defeating my Leviathan required more than brute force and instead devised a defense plan that used the power of the magical crystals of Lemuria that were within the highest tower of the Celestial Observatory.
When my monster attacked the island, it caused great damage and murdered untold numbers of people, yet before it could do its worst, Kaelin unleashed a powerful beam of elemental light that struck my little pretty, wounding it immensely. Since I hadn’t prepared my Leviathan for such an attack, it suffered greatly, but thankfully that damage only made it get more enraged. Directing its energy towards the source of the light beam, the sea serpent pulled its full girth from the depths and prepared to lay waste to the observatory. Kaelin must have realized his doom – for it was clear that nothing could stop the monster – so he redirected the tower’s energy to form as much of a protective barrier to the city as was possible. When the Leviathan’s great tail struck the tower, it destroyed it – yet unfortunately the explosion and debris also destroyed my beast as well. The cataclysm was so great that when the weight of the serpent’s body sunk back down to the depths it created a massive fissure in the island – pulling Atlantis itself down with it!
Thus was the legendary mini continent destroyed – its glorious remains, along with the skeleton of my beloved beast, still remain on the ocean floor –and it was this very location that I had just arrived at.
My arrival was met with the cold silence of the dead – it made me feel right at home.
Now that I was here I began the process of reforming into a physical form so that I’d be prepared to snatch up Dagaal if indeed it was in the vicinity. While morphing I discarded the stellarone aura that had protected me on my journey since I didn’t feel like I needed it in the empty tomb of the abandoned city. It was a slow, meticulous process, a careful reconstruction of my being from it’s pure will.
I was not expecting company, yet just as my form was solidifying, a small group of mortals emerged from the wreckage of a collapsed stone wall. They had sleek, lithe bodies and web hands that allowed them to move through the water with a terrifying, synchronized precision. Although surprised, I found their approach amusing and I noted with interest that they carried strange looking harpoons and wore the body suits that featured barnacle-encrusted emblems of the old Atlanteans.
Could these be the remnants of the people of Atlantis who chose to remain behind and not flee to the Ice Wall? I wondered. But if so where had they been living? Surely they were not here when last I visited, right? As they swam closer I saw their faces were filled with a fierce, burning hatred. Only Atlanteans could hate me so much. Well this is going to be fun! I laughed, preparing to destroy them for their impudence.
“A-za-zel!” one of them shrieked as their group attacked.
That’s when I got another surprise – as it turned out they were armed with an advanced, unsettling technology. Their harpoons were not made of mere metal but of a crystalline substance that glowed with a faint, pulsing blue light. Their group fired their weapons at me, and as one of the projectiles struck my still-forming arm, I felt a sharp, disorienting pain—not of the flesh, but of my essence. It wasn’t a physical wound; it was a spiritual one. The crystalline harpoon had, for a fleeting moment, destabilized the my ability to complete my physical being. Soon the very atoms of my arm began to fray and dissipate.
Although it briefly hurt, I wasn’t concerned. How quaint. I scoffed. Had they managed to somehow salvage some of the magical crystals of Lemuria that Kaelin whose power had defeated my Leviathan? Were there secrets from the Ocean Sage Caius that were at play here? I found myself incredibly intrigued by all this from a scientific perspective.
But I didn’t have time to ponder for long because the next attack of these Proto Atlanteans [as I decided to classify them] was far more cunning. While I was trying to figure out the magic behind the harpoons, a second group emerged from another nearby ruin and pushed a device forward. It was a spherical orb, pulsing with a strange, blue light, and soon the orb began to hum with a deafening resonance. Immediately I began to feel a profound shift in the energy around me. It was as if the stellarone aura that I’d been using to protect me was now reforming around my body – pulling, stretching, and then later binding me against my will. My physical body, which should have long since been fully formed by now, instead remained in a frustratingly translucent state.
My rage boiled, a silent, internal fire that threatened to consume the very water around me. But my rage was useless. The fact was that I could not solidify – but I also could not dematerialize. I was thus caught between two states, a prisoner to their primitive yet effective technology. It was a position I’d never been in before.
“You will not escape us again, demon!” the leader of the group shrieked as he swam up next to me, shockingly unafraid.
Vowing to utterly destroy him, I took a moment to observe this mortal who dared taunt me. Taller than the rest, his body suit seemed to glow with crystalline conduits that pulsed with that same infuriating blue light as the orb did. His face was a testament to the sorrow of his people. His features were sharp, ancient, and etched with the deep lines of a man who carried the weight of a ruined world on his shoulders. A tiny stylized tattoo – wave over a broken city – was etched onto his cheek.
Since he wasn’t even worth the courtesy of a reply, I ignored him and instead with a furious, godlike effort, I pushed back against the psychic force of their device. The orb hummed, straining against my will, but to my surprise it held fast!
How it a mortal device resisting my powers? I wondered as a sickening realization began to dawn upon me. This was no mere technological marvel. It was a conscious tool of divine power. A psychic intrusion, a violation I had not anticipated, had just pierced through my defenses. Through the conduit of their hateful leader, I saw flashes, glimpses of a life of loss and vengeance. I saw a childhood spent in the dark, cramped confines of a new, makeshift city under the sea with the remnants of the lost people of Atlantis who didn’t escape to the Ice Wall. This group stayed behind – built a new city somewhere else – and vowed vengeance upon me. I saw a young boy hearing the tragic tales of the great drowning, of the Leviathan sent by the God of Death who had orchestrated the Fall of Atlantis. I saw him being taught a language of power, a secret language kept by his people, and I saw him being shown the designs of a technology that was meant to be their ultimate revenge.
I saw the name he was born with Jaelin – and I realized he was a direct descendant of that nuisance Kaelin.
But then, the visions grew more disquieting. This was no random attack, I realized. These Proto-Atlanteans didn’t just come up on me by accident. They had been waiting for me with meticulous preparation. They knew I was coming! As my mind raced through the memories of my attackers, I saw them monitoring the currents, the subtle shifts in telepathies that only another god, or a truly exceptional mortal, could perceive. I saw this Jaelin receiving a telepathic message in a series of strange, cryptic symbols from an unknown source. Clearly they had been warned of my arrival. But how? By who?
A cold, unfamiliar sensation coiled in the pit of my being: <FEAR!>
Was this Lucifer’s doing? Was my hated master, from his prison in Illusia, still so powerful that he could manipulate these pathetic mortals from afar? Did he use the baals whom I’d once gifted him to deliver the message, to set this elaborate trap against me? It would fit his cruel sense of humor. He would surely delight in my public humiliation at the hands of those I had destroyed.
Or was it Alyssa? It would be so like her, the arrogant little Goddess of Love. She had a stake in this place, these were her people after all, and I could see her with a desire to protect the old artifacts. She could be using these mortals as her pawns, knowing that they could not truly harm me but could certainly provide an excellent, and exquisitely frustrating, distraction. She could be using this moment to probe my mind right now, to see what I was after, to learn what I knew.
Or worse, was it Rhokki? That brute, in his pathetic love for Gaia, could have felt the echo of my journey as I passed by the magnetic pole. Did he warn these mortals to protect the ghost of the one he loved? Was the very ground I stood on now his shield against me?
The worst thought, however, was the most terrifying. Could it be all of them? A grand, unified conspiracy? Had Lucifer, Alyssa, and Rhokki put aside their ancient feuds to unite against a common enemy—me? Were there other players? Was the voice in Jaelin’s head that of Mindos? Had the high angels, Michael, Raphael, or Gabriel, finally decided that my ambition was too great a threat? The thought was a sickening, black wave of dread. I, Azazel, the great orchestrator of schemes, had been outmaneuvered, a simple pawn in a game I didn’t even know was being played.
“You will not destroy our home this time, Azazel,” Kaelen spat, a look of unholy triumph on his face. He held a small, glowing shard in his hand, the source of the orb’s power. “We will make you pay for all you have done.”
He swam closer, his triumph palpable, a disgusting stench of arrogance that I found utterly vile. He reached out and I watched with horror as he dared to violate me by placng the glowing shard against my chest.
A searing, icy agony ripped through my essence! It was not the pain of fire or electricity, but a spiritual cold that sucked the very life from me. The orb’s hum intensified into a high-pitched whine, and I felt the spiritual cords that bound my consciousness to the very aura of the flat earth begin to stretch and fray, not just at the binding point, but all along their length. The sensation was a thousand times more horrifying than any torture I had ever devised for a mortal soul.
I am being un-made! My mind howled in shock and awe. This cannot be!
And yet it was. No longer was I arrogantly thinking this was a misguided attempt at a simple capture by foolish mortals. I now knew this something more – it was a spiritual syphon. These mortals, acting under the direction of one or more of my rivals, were somehow draining my essence, pulling my divine consciousness toward a point of no return.
For the briefest of moments the scientist in me was amazed at the process and I wondered how they did it, but that feeling quickly passed as I felt the cold emptiness of my own soul being pulled from me. Was this the sensation I had so often given to mortals in my domain when I took their souls from them? It was the feeling of non-existence, of being pulled back to the nothingness from which all things came.
So this is it? The end? I wondered. This is the moment I, Azazel, the God of Death, will finally die? Here in the ruins of Atlantis? How horrible.
My body, my glorious, powerful, divine body, began to flicker and fade, the light of my essence dimming as it was torn from me.
I was being unmade by a few, angry, pathetic mortals who were pawns of the gods – and I could do nothing to stop them…
The Apocrypha of Azazel 