There was a continent that lay separate from all the other continents of Agartha, separate in more ways then one.

Its location in time and space was just slightly off from the rest of the Agarthan Wonderland. Lying in a limbo of sorts, a meta-realm where time, matter, and energy took a backseat to the power of thought and ideas.

This place was used as a substation of sorts. It was initially used by the Moderators of the Asphodel System and the gods, spirits, demons and celestials of the Council of Chaos and Order, who’d called for the system’s creation and installation.

This substation was the gate, that lay before yet another gate, that served as the sole point of entry and egress from the Universe of Agartha.

It was eventually made into a sort of observation point, from which one could observe the world and all that happened within it.

Once other means of Observation were set up and other means of segregating Agartha’s reality from the rest of the cosmos could be safely put into place, the substation was given over to the more powerful players of the world below.

Entrusted to the various gods and monsters of the Agarthan Wonderland and the New Agarthan World Order.

The powerful cosmic laws that severely limited the flows of energy and force, and prohibited to possibility of permanent harm to either body or soul, made the realm a perfect middle ground.

The fact that the space seemed to make lying and deception exceedingly difficult, reinforced such thoughts.

In time this place would be recognized as one where the people were forced to solve their problems with words since, besides talking, there wasn’t much else that could be done in that place.

This place would in time, be known as the lobby. The Lobby of Transcendental Proceedings. The realm in which the various warring tribes of immortals and heavenly courts hashed out their problems and brokered their deals.

A place that could be reached so long as one possessed a certain modicum of power.

*****

In this lobby there were two main spaces, one was the General space, used by the various immortal beings and high powered levellers, whenever they needed a safe space to broker deals.

The second space was the Hall of Powers. The Hall of Powers itself was split in two, divided between the Legends and the Divines. A distinction that was made between the nine-hundred and ninety-nine Immortal Kings, and the One thousand, Nine-Hundred and Ninety-Nine, Ruler Gods of Agartha.

Naturally there was some contention between the Legendary Powers and Divine Powers.

While the gods were “gods” their power and authority to directly act within the realm of Agartha was limited.

As for the Immortal Kings, unto them dominions were given. Realms of rule, that covered a certain percentage of the entire world. With the percentages fluctuating according to the power of each individual Immortal King.

A balance between Legends and Divines was kept, with the two sides cooperating. Either a god would patron, or dominate an immortal king.

Or an immortal king would suppress his share of the Agarthan heavens and sit as the supreme ruler of his or her dominion, with the gods dealing with him as something that lay somewhere between a foreign dignitaries or a vassal ruler.

The line between legend and divine could fluctuate with gods temporarily giving up their godhood to become immortal kings and immortal kings climbing to the realm of godhood. Who was what and what was who, could shift, but the number of powers in Agartha was always the same, three thousand or so.

*****

With that being the case, two days after the failed invasion of Cadeyrn, the Hall of Powers would echo with the rage of the Immortal Lord of Spirals.

He threw a fuss kicking apart the chambers and seats belonging to him, his neighbors and his underlings.

He threw up a storm of chaotic energies that didn’t do much, considering the setting, but still was loud enough and discordant enough to garner attention.

Eventually, a man dressed in simple cotton robes, with eyes like spinning wheels and two quivering nail-like antennas on his head, rose from a seat adjacent to Aspersum.

He came and put a calming hand on the shoulder of the much diminished and much aggrieved Immortal King.

“Calm thyself, brother. What has you so riled?” said the man, who wasn’t a man.

“Brother Mollusk, we’ve been foiled.” howled Aspersum.

Mollusk, one of the twelve gods who oversaw Agartha’s wheel of Samsara frowned.

He looked around, aware that there were eyes on him and his brother.

With a thought he transferred them out from the Hall of Powers, taking them to another more private environs within the Lobby.

“Speak.” said Mollusk.

“Our plot to begin movements in the Eastern, north Eastern Hemisphere of Agatha's twelfth quadrant, has been foiled before we could even begin it.”

“What happened?” said Mollusk. Cold sweat, and consternation showing in his otherwise beatific visage.

This plot was one that had been in the works for quite some time, it was a step that needed to be taken if Aspersum was to go from being an Immortal King to a god and Mollusk was to become a godking. Ruling in the true heavens that lay beyond the one that existed above the Agarthan sky.

“The two-hundredth and seventy-first is what happened…” spat a bitter Aspersum.

Mollusk frowned.

Of the nearly one thousand immortal kings, the two hundred and seventy-first was one of those few that were known to still be alive and kicking, but also had never made any great waves.

Keeping to the background of things, never playing their hand or reaching for more influence, never so much as appearing within the lobby to meet with the other powers.

Simply existing, their presence ominous like the shadow of a jagged mountain.

In fact, with the way that his seat in the hall had only appeared just a little over a decade or so, there were some who’d believed he was one of the newborn kings.

The only problem with that theory was that none of the other kings or gods had been able to find him in the world below.

Which suggested he’d either already been under the control and or protection of another empowered party, or he himself was powerful enough to hide from birth, which despite not being entirely impossible, had seemed an unlikely possibility.

In either case, the two-hundredth and seventy-first Immortal King’s identity and whereabouts, were things that were oft speculated about by the beings within the hall of powers and the general spaces beyond.

“....And?” asked Mollusk.

Aspersum calmed himself, with a shuddering sigh.

“And It seems that those territories were already taken.”

“By him?” said Mollusk.

Aspersum nodded.

“By him.”

“Just like that? Just who does this Red Moon Sovereign think he is?” scowled Mollusk. His expression thoughtful. He could have sworn that the region lay largely unclaimed. With no beings of consequence in residence.

“I do not know brother. If I knew I would be busy culling his nine generations instead of complaining to you...or maybe not…probably not…” said Aspersum. Sighing.

His slimy, yellow, face growing pale as he considered the possible consequences of such an action.

The Horned Immortals brutal measures for a simple territorial dispute making the Snail-Fiend shudder at the thought of what having a true grudge with the being would be like.

Mollusk saw his brothers pensiveness and frowned. Though Aspersum was slow like a snail, he wasn’t a man of great patience of forbearance anything that could make him think twice would have to be major in scope.

“And he offered no terms?”

“Oh...he offered terms alright…” snarled Aspersum.

“What were they?” said Mollusk.

“Stay out of my territory or else…”

“Stay out of his territory or else?” echoed Mollusk.

The Snail-man god could imagine how his little brother would have reacted to that.

“And then what happened?” asked Mollusk.

Aspersum plopped onto an empty seat, a pool of slime spreading out beneath him as he sat and made himself comfortable.

“And then I died...A lot….A lot - a lot. He killed me over and over and over again, while his forces wiped out my men and seized my assets. Ah...I’d actually forgotten how painful death can be…. First I was driven out of the city. Then he chased me out of the region. Then he chased me out of part of “my” region taking all that I had there, as spoils of war. Then he told me that he would coming for your assets too.”

Mollusk’s eyes widened, his above-it-all air disappearing as his expression darkened.

“The Scoundrel...He wouldn’t dare!”

Aspersum smiled, glad to have some company in his misery.

“Oh he’d dare brother...I suggest you go back and save what you can...From the way he sorted me out I don’t think he’ll give you any face, even with the heavens serving as your backing.”

Mollusk frowned, glaring at his brother. He wanted to believe that everything he’d heard was just excuses and bluster, unfortunately, Immortal Kings were always an unpredictable sort and there was a precedent of so called “quiet” kings turning the heavens on their head when angered.

The god Snail snorted, baleful sparks coming out from his nostrils.

“Brother...I hope for your sake that things aren’t as dire as what you’ve described, for if they are, and I have to explain how both our assets were seized, to father...I will let him know about your lack of caution when it came to choosing our target.”

Aspersum frowned...unhappy to hear that his brother would likely be throwing him under the bus. Then he shrugged, because he knew that their father had never been one for accepting his sons’ excuses.