The man in a suit listened intently, his thoughts swirling, his mind engaged in fractals of competing and self-rejecting thoughts as he listened to the Watcher speak. Almost everyone was there, and more engaged than they had been in almost a thousand years.
The girl in the sun dress was hanging by his side, saying nothing but reaffirming with her expression and stare every word. The sisters sat at the far side of the table, inseparable now that Angela had woken. The battlemaid sat with the son of angels, still unsure of how to proceed.
Death spoke next, and the man in the suit nodded. He glanced to his left, and the two men there nodded at his subtle agreement. They would join the fight. Then the battlemaid spoke to their minds of the Telling. The signs that had long been ignored. The Pestilence that stirred, the Blood that would soon come forth. Three would emerge. One would have to be stopped. And the Traitor was back.
The pillars had to be removed before the skye fell. Before true madness returned. They all understood. But this second war had started out of nearly nothing, and each of them understood what significance it would bring. The end of their way of life. The realm of hunger had to be fought, and the prince of assassins would lead the charge.
But the plans swirled. More was happening in the storm below. A new solution would have to be made. The man in the suit glanced knowingly at the two girls to his right, and they understood. He spoke. the sisters were troubled, one was outright furious, but the woman in the sun dress calmed them. More would be awakened. The young Shepherd would be chosen. This would be War.
The one lost to time would return long ago and would need to fix what he already had, the Sleeping would begin to awaken, the sarcophagus would open, Charon would alight, and the sanctuary would be broken.
The threads of Convergence would sing one last time.