SOLE SURVIVOR

By Uriel

Smoke without fire! No thrill of tongues licks up the offerings in the cup. Dead falls desire.
Black smoke thou art, o altar-flame, that dost dismember, devour the hearth, to leave no ember to warm this heart.
I see her still - Adela dancing here till dim gods did appear to work our will.
The delicate girl! Diaphanous gossamer subtly revealing her brave breast of pearl!
Now - she's withdrawn at dusk to the wild woods, mystic beatitudes that dure till dawn.
Let life exclaim against these things of spirit, mankind that disinherit of love's pure flame!
Ye household gods! By these male tears I swear that ye shall grant this prayer. All things at odds
Shall be put straight - Harmonized, reconciled by some appointed child of some far Fate!


Household Gods, by Aleister Crowley

...by some appointed child of some far Fate...

Voices, childlike, multitudinous. And everywhere the light, burning from the small figures that are simultaneously part of the much larger figure that towers overhead.

Writhing in his memories what were and what might perhaps have been Isaac tore his way towards consciousness, grasping at the thread of sensation to rise up and. Izzaak opened its eyes and an expression of general benevolence slid smoothly across its features. Looking up it recognized the stewardess that had woken it and shifted its smile into a more intimate grin. An expression she mirrored as informed him that the plane was coming into land.

Fifteen minutes later Izzaak stepped of the plane, a napkin in his pocket, bearing a Hong Kong phone number. It smiled, and contemplated that all the stories it had heard about such people appeared to be true. It would enjoy discovering how true soon enough. For now it shifted into a more universally agreeable state and slipped through customs without a hitch, collected its minimal luggage and went in search of transport.

In the taxi Izzaak slipped away and Isaac sank back into the comfortable interior, his mind racing as he ran through his plans. When the drivers drone became distracting Isaac simply leaned forward and sealed the partition, silencing the Asian man.

When the taxi came to a stop outside an old and mostly run down apartment block, Isaac slid out and handed the driver exact change, before the man could even ask before walking away, oblivious to the mans glower. He had not spoken to the driver since he gave the address.


Sho had done many builds in his time with the Kai-Rin construction company, and many much stranger than this. Still he couldn't help but feel that something was out of place. The alterations that the client had asked for were costing a bundle, so much in fact that it probably would have been cheaper for him to just buy up a more upmarket property that would already have the sort of large open plan feel that the client seemed to want. Still, if that was how he wanted to spend his money, Sho wasn't going to complain of the over time bonus he was receiving to get it all done on time.

The building was in one of the older areas of Hong Kong. An area of tall bare apartment towers, with lots of garage like doors all around the ground floor where you would normally find a variety of shops and cafes. But in this area, the doors are closed, their merchandise not on display to those who do not know what they are looking for. This particular block stands open, its doors opened to allow ventilation of all the powdered cement caused by the work within as walls are demolished and pillars are supported to take the extra weight. When the work is finished the whole ground floor will be one large room, all exposed concrete and pipes but big enough to hold a few dozen cars at a push. The last thing the workers will be doing is to block up the entrances from the outside, leaving the only entrance a wide flight of stairs that lead down from a first floor apartment, reachable by a separate entrance at the side of the building.

Sho stands back and takes a break, nodding in appreciation; the job should be done within a day or two, well within the projected time limit.

"How is the work going?"

Startled Sho turns to find a man standing behind him with a suitcase at his feet. The man is fairly tall, with shoulder length bright, almost luminous red hair. The guy looked and sounded sort of European, and in his early twenties. The man's abrupt manner gave the impression that Sho had done something wrong, which combined with his pretty boy looks, and cold expression caused Sho to take an instant dislike to him.

"Who are you then? And what are you doing here, this is a building site you know."

For a moment the man continued to look passively at the building and then with frightening speed his head snapped round to look at Sho with a friendly grin.

"Sorry, should have introduced myself. I'm Izzaak. Izzaak Tremeri. I guess I'm the one who's paying for all this." He waved his hand at the building. "My plane was early and I thought I should come round and see how things where going before I checked into my hotel."

Still a little confused at the mans sudden change in attitude, Sho scratched the back of his head. So this was the mysterious client. If anything the meeting was making him feel even more uneasy about the job. Still, the guy was paying them very well, so he could overlook a little weirdness.

"Right, well it won't be long now, we just have the rest of this wall to do..."

As he began to talk to the guy about the details of the job, Sho found his sense of uneasiness fading, maybe the guy wasn't so bad after all.


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