"So... Both magic and The New World Order are real?" Andrew said in a mix of confusion and sad acceptance.
He and Jackson walked down a busy sidewalk of the city, Andrew in his new blazer with the same symbol of the staff with two intertwining serpents ending in the Greek word for "logos" at the top. It was evening, the lights of the city and its skyscrapers transitioning into the stars in the dark sky, the air filled with chatter, smog and horns from vehicles.
"Magick with a K specifically and they call themselves The New Iteration." Jackson clarified smugly. "Gotta separate their brand identity from the phonies right?"
"Magick or The New Iteration?" Andrew questioned, mostly under sarcasm.
"Eh, both. Freemason? More like Enslavedmason, they don't got no power!" Jackson quipped before continuing. "They believe they're the newest iteration of authority and humanity in general, they want a monopoly over magick and pretty much snuff out, or hire any fledgling mages..." His tone became more serious as he continued, dropping slightly. "But the most dangerous fact is that they have a Relic."
"A Relic?" Andrew questioned
"Relics boost the power of magick a thousandfold, most found around the world are copies but... As far as we know, their leader has one of the real deal, The Lemegeton. They are the most dangerous things a mage can wield, frankly they can level entire cities, true relics that is."
"Bah serious talks aren't my forte" Jackson said, sighing "Besides no use dwelling on that, we have to train you in magick first." He said going back to his more upbeat attitude.
"..."
"I don't know how to use Magick." Andrew replied bluntly in confusion.
"Don't worry, we're working on that too. Why do you think we're on a mission? Speaking of..."
They reached an abandoned building, its entry sealed off surrounded by police tapes and cars, some officers taking notes and talking, clearly waiting for something, sirens and chatter replacing the vehicular horns.
…
Back in the House of Phos, the current residence for Andrew, Bianca stands on top of a stage, next to him their butler, a man of bronze complexion that complemented his grey eyes and archaic English dressing style. In front of the stage were a large number of agents and students, all in uniform, clearly present for some important announcement.
Beside them was what appeared to be a large pod draped in cloth that covered it. An air of unease emanated from the pod, causing murmurs among the crowd, a collective agreement that whatever it was, it was bad news.
Bianca coughed to clear the air before signalling the Butler, who nodded and pulled down the cloth revealing something that caught nearly every member of the crowd in a cold sweat of surprise.
The pod was made out of glass, stained and cracked now, its metal base and what appeared to be torn pipes jutted out its back, red and rusted.
However what really caught everyone's attention and fear was the abomination within it.
A naked tall humanoid, both gaunt and malnourished yet muscular, almost as if there were extra layers of skin growing on top of its thin frame, large hollow holes for eyes and noses, more fit for a skull rather than a body with skin and muscles, a cracked scalped with thin hair growing out of it like weeds in a desert, it was expressionless, hollow, like a walking corpse with no genitals, but it did walk, stumble, aimlessly in its pod, its mouth with receding gums, revealing nearly it's entire row of teeth, hanging slightly open.
But it was something far worse that made everyone disturbed, not merely its grotesque appearance, it was something instinctual, deep in their gut, something that was a taboo to not human standards but to the standards of divinity.
Bianca coughed, breaking the uneasy silence that had fallen on the room like a deep fog, she gestured at the pod.
"This was found in one of The New Iteration's bases in Argentina, the one they recently abandoned." She continued, moving in front of the pod, gaining the attention of those who were fixated on it. "This was found alongside other empty pods and documents relevant to the prophecy and something they're calling 'Projekt Tabula Rasa', they left a lot of things behind in their haste. But to address the abomination in the room..."
"I believe you all can feel the Od of this thing is messed up, profane. It isn't human, it doesn't even have a will of its own, no it's something we can't quite figure out entirely... But even through the interaction of your Od with this thing I believe you all have a gist of what it is..."
"Crawling Magick." She said, almost spitting out the words.
"I knew The New Iteration were scum but this is a new low even for them." Her voice grew more stern.
"It is the one thing Mages are not supposed to do, the one thing worse than dark magick, it hurts not only other people but oneself and creation itself... But you all know that."
However... this is likely the first time any of you have encountered Crawling Magick."
She forced her tone to be more professional "Our relationship with the Iteration has been... tenuous to say the least, however from now on any interaction with The New Iteration should be first consulted with the High Council and any spontaneous interaction, even with an Adeptus Minor or Neophyte. Is that clear?"
"YES MA'AM!" The answer was loud and clear, a mix of fear towards the abomination and respect towards their superior bringing out their honesty and clarity.
"Dismissed, please return to whatever activities you were assigned to." She waved off and went backstage of the conference hall along with the Butler.
"Any update on Jackson and Andrew's mission to that alleged summoning, Payton?"
"None for now, however the Chief has decided to sent in two policemen to scout inside the building." Payton replied in a smooth English accent.
"After I told them not to...!" She scowled out, more out of concern towards the scouts rather than disobedience of her order.
"Don't worry ma'am, Jackson's there he's the last person to let someone die under his watch, perhaps protecting other people will give our so called 'chosen one' more knowledge?" Payton said, calmly.
Bianca sighed "I hope so... For now we have worse things to do in regards to this demon summoning attempt incident..."
"Paperwork." Payton finished for her.
"Ugh don't even say that name, it's scary even for me."
Payton chuckled softly as they made their way towards her office.
…
"O-Oh you guys are the agents!" Said the police Chief to Jackson as he showed him an identification card with the symbol on their blazers, text reading 'Hermetic Order of The Akasha'
"That's us." Jackson replied. The Chief immediately shouted out instructions as the police cleared the way for them to enter. Jackson and Andrew dove under the tape, past the murmuring officers and entered the abandoned building.
Their footsteps echoed across the abandoned building as the murmur and sirens outside got muffled by the hard concrete walls, white paint peeling off it. Unfurnished and without light bulbs, only lit through the city lights bleeding in through the windows, the corners shrouded in darkness, a thick stench of paint filling the air.
"S-so..." Andrew sputtered out, breaking the misty silence. "Are The Hermetic Order and New Iteration enemies?"
"Well..." Jackson replied, as if pondering it himself, both walking along while making conversation. "It's complicated, we don't particularly like each other but we've had to work together sometimes, but communication is... Difficult putting it lightly... Imagine the Cold war but with more fire spells and slightly less paperwork."
"I guess I under-" Andrew began before being immediately cut off.
"Oh but we also have a common party we both hate, the goddamn Occult Cartel... Taskforce Q, by Sabaoth's own name we both despise those guys."
"W-what? Are they criminals or something?"
"No worse... They're hired mages, mercenaries essentially, but being a mage and doing things only for the sake of material gain such as money, by definition makes you a weak mage, someone who can't even see beyond the illusion of materialism..." There was barely hidden scorn in his tone.
"So... Who do they serve?"
"Oh they serve someone equally as evil as them... An organisation hellbent on corrupting and destroying this world while stumping out any alternate oppositions and purposely spreading the false propaganda that the common man alone can and has the responsibility of saving the world, even though they can't, all for their own gain... The Helmar Energy Group."
"..."
"Never heard of em"
"That's how they want it, you know? They're unknowable, we can only feel their presence through subtle signs... Such as those calculating your carbon footprint exercises our schools give or why your paper straw melts in your drink before you can even finish it!"
Andrew sighed "Alright, Alright so there's a Taskforce of hedge mages hired by some oil company... For what exactly?"
Jackson shrugged "Beats me. As far as we know, although they're hired by them, they're actually controlled by Fuzon Global who own Helmar Energy as a subsidiary, so they probably just wanna sell Magick Artifacts and Relics to the highest bidders. Frankly, the leader of the Taskforce is the only one you should worry about."
"Their leader, huh?" Andrew questioned, with a bit more interest this time than hearing Jackson ramble about unknowable oil companies.
"They call em 'Pathos' tall guy, dressed in a red coat with this weird yellow windmill looking symbol on it. He carries a lot of guns and blades and I mean a lot. Almost like he's compensating for something." Jackson smirked at the unasmused Andrew.
"Whaaat? I'm talking about his insufficient magickal capabilities that he has. His Telekinesis isn't the strongest by any means, barely Anahata level honestly, and he's definitely going to have a hard time getting it up. Oh and speaking of weapons..."
He suddenly halted their walking, standing in front of a staircase leading up, they had reached the 3rd floor and they could hear some murmurs as well as see some light from the floor above.
He dug his hand into the pocket of his blazer, taking Andrew's open palm in the other.
"You don't have any magick for now, and it'd be bad for my resume for you to die on the first job, so." He pulls out a handgun out of his pocket and hands it to Andrew, his eyes widening at the weapon.
"I know you're probably well versed in using kitchen knives for mugging or whatever but." Jackson's eyes became more serious, "I know you haven't killed anyone, and unless you absolutely have to, you shouldn't." He said letting go of the gun in Andrew's hands.
"Remember when you pull the trigger, that the person you're pulling it on has a life, likely different from yours but a life regardless, they eat, live mundanely, brush their teeth and probably oversleep, so. Don't take any life lightly."
Andrew hardened his expression simply nodding, Jackson's words didn't come from personal morals, but something far deeper, and even he could feel it.
"Alright then, let's bust this ritual." He said as they climbed the stairs to the next floor.
…
"Hail Satan!" Shouted a group of people covered in cheap robes around a sigil painted on the ground with (goat) blood.
In the middle two policemen, one young and one older were tied up, while the younger one was scared the older one seemed tired, although they were both gagged so it was hard to know their true feelings with total certainty.
One of the men stepped forward, lowering his hood, revealing a bald head and face covered in tattoos, mostly reminiscent of demonised figures and symbols.
He pulled out a rather stylish dagger from his cloak, a silver ring on his finger shined in the light bleeding in from the windows, revealing a hexagram emblazoned on it.
"It seems that our evening hasn't been a waste after all, fellow brothers and sisters, just as when we thought our ritual had failed, our lord Satan sent us two sacrificial lambs! Hah! We'll make sure to rib the guys who left only after four hours because 'it usually doesn't take this long dude'."
He brought the dagger to the younger cop's neck, making his blood run cold before speaking again. "This will give our lord a physical form and he will make us the rulers of the new world! Hail Satan!"
The young recruit whimpered in horror and the dagger very dangerously lightly pricked his neck just enough to draw blood.
"Now behold…" The leader carefully placed that drop of blood on the center of the sigil.
…
"It usually takes a few minutes… or four hours at minimum-"
"Hey meatheads! Mind letting those guys go?" Jackson shouted from across the room while Andrew mostly his face in shame.
The leader, confused, managed to sputter out "W-what? Did we order more ritual candles-"
"No, we're here to rescue those cops, jackass, and shut down whatever third rate ritual is going on here."
The leader confidently replied "Hehe… If you want to rescue these coppers, you must defeat me, but know that this ring of Solomon and-"
Before he could finish they were immediately wrapped up in thin metal wires, not tight enough to break skin, just enough to restrain them.
"By Satan! Jeez alright, you guys can have him, we're done with the ritual anyways, it specified only one drop of blood."
Andrew went forward to untie the two policemen as Jackson questioned the Satanists.
"Frankly we wouldn't usually get involved with 'rituals' like this but that ring you got there… it's got actual power, thank God you didn't know how to use it though…"
Jackson sighed before facing him again.
"But tell me where did you get that ring?" He examined the ring he had snatched from him, although the look of skepticism crept over him as he studied it.
"Hah! If you want answers-"
The metal strings tightened their grip. "I'm not asking." Jackson said bluntly.
"Ow! Ow! Jeez, fine I'll tell you."
…
Andrew finished untying and ungagging the two policemen. "How the hell did you guys manage to get captured by these goobers anyway?"
"Bah! They ambushed us! Knocked me clean out! And sissy mcpansy pants over here was too slow to pull out his firearm!" The older cop barked out, gesturing clearly at his younger colleague.
The younger cop rubbed his hair nervously in response, stuttering out a sorry.
"Y'know, you shouldn't be too hard on him, I'm sure he tried his best…" Andrew said, trying to more reassure the younger cop than persuade his older colleague.
"His best ain't enough with life and death on the line! It's better to try harder than be dead, we're lucky this was just a group of wannabes rather than some actual crackhead or murderer…" Although his tone was scolding there was clear concern in his voice that Andrew picked up.
Andrew sighed "Alright then, Hey Jackson!" He yelled out to Jackson, still questioning the Satanists, "Should I guide these guys out while you question these guys?"
Jackson however was paying far more attention to the words of their leader.
"I-I don't know, it was some really weird guy I met on the net, wore this weird jacket, said he believed in the cause of bringing down the societal order and summoning out dark lord…"
"Anything he said that felt… out of place?" Jackson questioned.
"I.. I don't know… he… … well he did say something called… I… Project Tabula Rasa…? I think…?"
"!?" The surprise was clear in Jackson's face before he smirked.
"Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting, you're coming with us." He turned up to face Andrew. "And Andrew you can guide these guys t-"
His eyes shot open, there was a new uneasy presence in the room he hadn't noticed before, the shadows at the corners they had gotten used to, now felt alive, writhing under the moonlight..
"Andrew, get behind me with those two right now." Jackson said, as if he was out of breath.
Andrew looked at him confused at the cold sweat kneading his brow "Huh? I-"
"Now." The order was absolute and he did not need to be told more as he and the two cops quickly hid beside Jackson.
He scanned the whole room, the stench of the paint becoming nearly insufferable in combination with the dark angular corners and claustrophobic concrete.
Suddenly he snapped his neck upwards, his metal strings lashing out at the ceiling as something gracefully avoided it and dropped to the floor, feathers raining from the ceiling like matted snow.
"Ah, as perceptive as ever." A hoarse, subtle voice rang out.
Andrew's eyes adjusted as the figure stood more calmly in front of all of them, his fear palpable.
A tall Stork, too large to be a normal bird, cloaked in a black hooded robe, like a cape, two glowing white eyes and a long beak being visible from under the hood, its large wing spread from under it.
The robe was emblazoned with a strange symbol, a unicursal hexagram with an eye in the middle, adding to the otherworldliness of this being.
"Hey, remember what I said about not taking lives wantonly?" Jackson said his eyes fixated on the creature.
"Yeah?" Andrew replied nervously, his eyes also on the creature, too afraid to lose sight of it.
"Well those rules fly out when facing a demon, especially a Great Marquis…" Jackson said equally as nervously.
"!?" Andrew was surprised but his tongue ran dry at the revelation of what was the thing in front of him.
"That's The Great Marquis of Hell, Shax." Jackson managed to finish.
The Demon merely chuckled hoarsely, his voice strangely fitting his figure "Be not overly righteous, and do not make yourself too wise. Why should you destroy yourself in such a manner?" He stated bluntly as if stating an objective fact.
"But what of my warnings? I am a demon, yes?" It was hard to say whether it was musing or a genuine warning.
"Rest assured however, I have other reasons to make an appearance here." He brandished two large blades, as big as arms, in his humanoid claws, which were uncannily made of the same grey keratinous material as that of normal birds.
His eyes narrowed at Andrew.
"Phoenix." He finished,