Free Mad Gods - Predatory Ethics: Book I by Athanasios

our best
efforts,” Balzeer muttered under his breath as he paced before the segmented
baby.
    “And have any of the Seekers caught any sign?”
Balzeer stopped; a few short seconds passed and he slowly turned to press his
question.
    “There have been Seekers, but there is more to the
emptiness of our divinations. Since he is invisible outside the use of Seekers,
we have concluded that He is outside of reality.”
    “How is that possible?” This was what Balzeer wanted
— insight, which no one on earth could’ve given.
    “You have often bent reality to your whims, lord. It
is possible, but as you know, quite difficult. The Seekers, who were
dispatched, are searching for anything that can be physically seen, but has no
psychic register, no actual earthly aura.” Balzeer had only heard of this being
done by the most gifted of his masters — the men and women, from the
thirteen families, who used reality and fashioned history.
    “Does such a thing exist on earth? I have read and
heard about it, but have never actually seen it.” He would have to primarily
rely on the use of Seekers. Increasingly, what Balzeer believed was for the
best interest of the Luciferians, conflicted with the orders he received from
the Great Families.
    “Use whatever means, any and all at your disposal.
Use any thought of mortals, drifting to sin. The Redeemer should be seen
through anything. He cannot be invisible. He should be a mountain among
valleys.” Using his links in hell would be paramount in this case. The
netherworld paralleled our own, and for every man, woman or child on earth,
there was an equal darkness.
    “Mortals’ sinful thoughts. What do you mean? How do
we use them?”
    “For every mortal on earth, there is a darkness in
hell, which makes the sin appear easy, inducing the person to commit the sin.”
Everyone has their own darkness waiting for them and cajoling, manipulating and
inching their earthly selves closer to a desired union. “In order to do this,
we must monitor their thoughts. If they see any sign of our Redeemer, then it
will register, maybe not with them, but surely with us. To you, especially.”  
    “Yes, we shall do this, lord.”
    “Rather, you do this. I want this information
accessible only to me. I want to see any and all mention of our Sire.” In the
Redeemer’s case, hell would come to him; he was, quite literally, Hell on
Earth.

 
    - Zealots -

 
    TIME: AUGUST 15TH, 1961. ALEXANDRIA, EGYPT

 
    Kosta sat at a kafenion table in the heart of the ancient Soma
district. For centuries, it was believed that it housed a vast complex of
buildings, surrounding the tomb of the city’s founder, Alexander the Great.
Now, it used the name and fame of the renowned conqueror as barter for tourists
and currency. Kosta loved its open swagger and bold ambition to take as much
money as possible from the visitors that sought enlightenment from its ancient
ruins. It was a contrast from Kostadinoupoli , because it held no longed-for history. Nobody Kosta even knew, or read about,
wished for the times of Alexander, mostly because nobody remembered them. There
was no monaxia for Alexandria. It wasn’t even in Europe.
    In the noonday sun he sat in the shade of a Cinzano umbrella
and read a codex, wrapped up in the newspaper of the day. If someone watched
him closely, it would’ve been obvious he wasn’t reading the paper.   Nobody cared or took any notice. He was
part of the furniture: a middle-aged, Mediterranean man who wiled away his days
at an outdoor tavern, kafenion .   He was only one of thousands, but the
only one who read the Idammah-Gan
Codex .
    He read it there, because it was the only safe place
to do so. It had to be by the light of the sun, in daylight. No candle, electric
or fire light could keep the shadows inherent within the stygian ink of the
book, sentenced there. In the day, the black things that made the letters and
words were contained and seen, understood, without observation