Benben, 7 billion light-years from Earth
If scientists knew about the existence of Benben, they would need to seriously re-evaluate their knowledge of the laws of physics.
It’s a pyramid made of bronze-colored metal, surrounded by the light of a star on each side… with the structure being twice as tall of each star. Not only it would take the material from several solar systems to build such a thing, its mass should make it collapse into a black hole. Or it should be ripped to shreds by the gravity of the four stars, which instead just stand there, immovable.
But gravity, and the laws of physics in general, only works when the lord of Benben wants it to.
Atum, the Primordial God of Creation of the Egyptian Pantheon, sits on top of the pyramid.
He’s about half the size of a star, but even without a sense of his scale it’s obvious this is not a biological lifeform. While definitely humanoid, his body is entirely made of interlocking blocks of stone, with innumerably hieroglyphs carved into his “skin”.
Most notably, he doesn’t have a head. Floating above where his neck should be, there’s a glowing ankh… the so-called “Egyptian cross”… made of incandescent plasma.
The symbol changes shape into a stylistic representation of an eye as soon as Atum realizes he’s not alone anymore: the space next to the pyramid warps to manifest the arrival of three wildly different goddesses.
Two of them appear as silhouettes: one is blacker than the darkness of space, and the other is a field of suns more brilliant than a star cluster. Only the third one seems to be biological, although the green-skinned naked goddess also breaks the laws of physics by just existing.
<Atum, always a pleasure. It’s been a few million years.> Gaea greets him.
<I DID NOT NOTICE. IS A PRIMORDIAL COUNCIL REALLY NECESSARY? I HAVE WORK TO DO.> the God of Creation replies.
Nut, Egyptian Primordial Goddess of Stars appearing as being made of light, playfully moves her fingers through one of the suns orbiting the pyramid.
<You don’t seem very busy, brother. When was the last time you created a new galaxy?>
<I AM GATHERING INSPIRATION. WHAT DO YOU WANT?>
<We must wait for the others. The Primordial Council isn’t complete.> Gaea reminds him.
<What’s the point? We all know Tartarus won’t show up; he’s never responded to our calls.> Nyx objects, and her blank silhouette crosses her arms.
<Honestly I don’t understand why we even bother with that guy. What does a “God of Void” even do!?> Nut shrugs.
<IS HE STILL ALIVE?>
<With him it’s hard to tell, I admit. But we are still missing… you know…> Gaea says, hesitating to even say the name of the last surviving Sumerian Primordial.
<We don’t need to get Baal involved in this.> Nyx is quick to point out.
<AGREED. I HAVE NO WISH FOR ANOTHER PRIMORDIAL WAR. WHAT IS THE MEANING FOR SUMMONING THIS MEETING, GAEA?>
<There have been developments. Several Drylon devices have been discovered and even activate lately… the Vial of Destiny, the Heart Of The Universe, the Absolute Defense, the Manifold and the Nexus are all potential threats to all of us. And Nyx has dispatched a mortal to re-assemble the complete Key of Heaven.>
<Only to destroy it and make sure nobody can ever access Heaven again.> Nyx corrects her.
<Aren’t you blowing this out of proportion? None of these things are dangerous to us!>
<The mortal she has dispatched currently owns both the Nexus and the Vial of Destiny… she was the one to use them in conjunction to kill our sister Tiamat. And she has accessed the Heart Of The Universe before.>
<Please, Tiamat was a pushover. If you’re afraid of that little thing, just blow up her galaxy!>
<IS THE WEAPON THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED STILL IN HEAVEN?> Atum asks.
<Yes. After using it to dethrone Kronos, Zeus used the Key to seal it in Heaven.>
<The Key is the only way to access Heaven. If we destroy it, nobody will ever find the weapon and use it against us. There is no reason to keep it around!> Nyx insists.
<I remind you that at the beginning of time, we all agreed that we would not destroy the weapon, keeping it for use against threats that could not be dealt directly by us.>
<Conditions have changed. We now know there are multiple ways to kill a Primordial.>
<COULD ANY OF THESE METHODS HAVE DEFEATED KRONOS? OR COULD THEY PROTECT US FROM THE CELESTIAL GALAXY?>
<They haven’t caused us trouble in…>
<COULD THEY?> Atum insists.
<No. They couldn’t… even we would be powerless against them.> Nyx reluctantly admits.
<THEN THE WEAPON THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED REMAINS OUR LAST LINE OF DEFENSE. STILL, WE SHOULD NOT ENTRUST THE KEYS OF HEAVEN TO LOWER GODS OR MORTALS. THE KEYS SHOULD BE IN THE HANDS OF PRIMORDIALS.>
<Now you’re making sense! I like this idea.> Nut agrees.
<Not the result I wanted, but I’ll take that over destroying the Keys.> Gaea shrugs.
<I still think the Keys should be destroyed, but I see I’m in the minority here. I’ll recover them myself.> Nyx says.
<No. I’m sorry sister, but I don’t trust you with this. I will handle this personally.>
<THEN IT’S SETTLED: GAEA WILL RETRIEVE THE KEYS. WE WILL RECONVENE WHEN THAT HAS BEEN ACCOMPLISHED… NOW I MUST GET BACK TO MY DUTIES.>
<Whatever those are. Did we seriously need a whole council for this kind of thing? Seriously, this could’ve been an evocation!> Nut complains, warping space to disappear to the other side of the universe.
<We should have kept this whole situation between Greeks.> Nyx says.
<I AM STILL HERE.> Atum reminds her.
<You sent the Slayer on a quest to retrieve the Keys soon after she killed Tiamat. Are you afraid that you are next because she just killed your daughter Eris?> Gaea wonders.
<We both know what the Drylon expected of us when we were created, Gaea. You better teach the Slayer of Gods that this is bigger than anything she ever imagined.> Nyx replies cryptically, and her silhouette quietly vanishes into nothingness.
<Always the drama queen.> Gaea shrugs, teleporting away herself.
This leaves Atum alone again. The eye transforms back into an ankh, and he sits quietly on top of his colossal pyramid staring into space.
<FINALLY SOME PEACE AND QUIET.> he says to himself, holding out his arms as the first embers of a future galaxy begins to form.
New York City, Earth
Jane Lane loves being a just a regular waitress in a regular bar. It can get crazy at times and the pay is not exactly great, but it’s a good way to interact with people from all over the world… you never know where the next customer is coming from.
The last few months, however, have been hectic even by New York standards: tourists are no longer arriving from other countries, they’re from other planets.
With Earth no longer isolated from the rest of the Olympian Galaxy, more and more people show up to discover a new exotic world.
Jane is positioning the new insignia at the entrance, where four basic rules are translated into Standard Olympian:
- We accept payments in vorons
- No Myridian duplicates allowed
- No religious exemptions
- Clothed customers only
As soon as she’s done this, Max Black approaches her and asks with a puzzled tone:
<Are those rules really necessary?>
<Like you wouldn’t believe. You have no idea how crazy of a week this has been.> Jane responds, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss on the cheek.
<Isn’t that discrimination? I thought you liked Myridians!>
<I do. But they can make their duplicates disappear at will, and have a tendency to do so before paying. We had to do something about them, not to mention all the Dionysus worshippers who kept insisting drinking was part of their religion and Aphrodite worshippers taking off their clothes.>
<Sounds like exciting times.> Max comments, but his voice makes it apparent that he’s not exactly in his best mood.
<Everything okay Max? Tough life as a superhero?> Jane asks, lowering her voice: the last thing she wants is attracting more attention by revealing his Quantum secret identity.
<I wish! I’ve had to stop some crimes here and there, but for the most part things have been really really boring.>
<I’ll take boring over yet another alien invasion!>
<Yeah sure, me too, but… Noriko’s busy with her Empress stuff, and the rest of the team has a bunch of responsibilities for diplomatic things. I don’t even have much to do during natural disasters anymore, now that the Ministry of Planetary Development has a permanent base on Earth.>
<You know, you could always ask Noriko to make you a minister in her government.>
<Jane, can you seriously see me behind a desk?>
<I couldn’t see my best friend becoming Empress of the Galaxy, but here we are.> she shrugs.
<Excuse me, ma’am? Do you have a minute?> a man with an Olympian accent calls her; between that, and the fact he’s holding a picture of Jane, confirms she should be worried.
<Not another one of those!> she complains, rolling her eyes.
<You are Jane Blake, right? I represent the Pallas Publishing Corporation; would you be interested in a two million voron contract?>
<Listen buddy, I’ve already told like a dozen people that I am not going to write a sleazy tell-all book on Noriko, alright!?>
<But the public is hungry for more! We have already published several books from your friends!> the man insists, pushing in Jane’s hand a tablet. The image catches her eye: it’s the picture of a boy she recognizes from high school, with the title “My romance with the Mortal Empress”.
<What the… you’re kidding me, right? This guy wasn’t even in our class, I don’t think he ever even met Noriko!> she complains, flipping through several other titles.
There’s everything from old friends to casual acquaintances, from fifth grade teachers to three separate people claiming to be the first person to having sold her a green leather jacket: it seems everyone has written a book promising to give information about the Co-Empress.
<This is all trash. None of these people really knows Noriko!> Jane complains.
<We had a deal with her gynecologist, but we got hit by a cease-and-desist from the Imperial Palace before we could publish anything.> the man admits.
<Get the hell out of my face or you’ll get hit by something worse!> Jane threatens him.
<Do you have any books on Quantum?> Max asks, both to lower the tension and out of curiosity.
<Not at the moment.>
<Why not? I’m sure there’s a market about him.>
<Not unless you have some gossip about him and the Empress. There are rumors…>
<Ooh, that sounds interesting! Tell me more!> Jane says to the publisher… except it’s a different Jane Blake, perfectly identical to the original down to the clothes she’s wearing.
<I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were a Myridian.> the publisher excuses himself.
<She’s not, I mean I’m not, I mean what the hell’s going on!?> the real Jane wonders.
<I think we should discuss this privately!> Max jumps in, pushing away the publisher and practically dragging both Janes inside the bar.
<Max, who is this!?> Jane wonders.
<By myself, she really is lovely! I am Eros, and words cannot express how happy I am to see you in person! I think I’m in love.> the other Jane says, taking the original’s hand to kiss it.
<This is weird. Isn’t Eros supposed to be a guy!?> Jane asks.
<Love knows no gender.> the god replies.
<Eros, what are you doing on Earth!?> Max asks.
<Well I would love to say this is strictly about pleasure, but alas, I’m here on important business. Can we talk in a private place?>
<Absolutely not.> the real Jane objects.
<If this is Vanguard business, I should probably call Noriko.> Max adds.
<No no no, I’m here specifically because nobody can know I’m talking to you. It’s all very secret stuff, isn’t that exciting?>
<More like very suspicious. What’s up with all the secrecy?>
<Well, the Atlantean Resistance can’t openly ask the Empress of Olympus to support a revolution against Poseidon, now can they?>
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