The masonic lines of the streets of Washington DC folded and warped in a kaleidoscope of cityscapes from countless dimensions, . Most appeared fairly normal--a capital of the United States. Some were more advanced, some simpler, some gleaming metropoli of wonders, a few terrible burning husks or flooded swampland. They bent and flowed like the tide, over and through each other, a globe of infinity.
In the middle of them all, the 44th President of the United States, Barack Obama, 16th level visionary and arch-decan of Chicago. He sat in this shapeless anarchy in a lotus position, his third eye awakened and burning the same unearthly blue as the others. To his view, he shifting waves of realities crashing into each other created a vision, an idea of what was and what could be. If he allowed himself to fall into the paradoxical mindset of completely focused and free, he could even feel THEM. The two great hands of the Mandates the Gule and the Azure, their ripples bending and shifting the political metaphysical world. Barack never glanced too long--it was hard enough to see them, and he feared what would happen if they started to look back. But still...he needed to see. To confirm...he turned his gaze on the elemental energies of the universe, able to withstand the agony for mere seconds before--
He opened his eyes, took a deep breath. He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the tears of blood coming his eyes and nose. He was in the oval office--the fourth most arcanely secure location on the planet, and he was still nervous. He finally realized that Joe Biden was in the room, sitting on the couch and just shaking his head. “You know, even after all these years Barry...that is some freaky shit, man.”
Obama took a final deep breath to refocus his chakras on the material planes. “I need a walk and some advil. Do I smoke in this world? Ahhh, dammit. I don’t. Dammit...”
The rose garden was, as always, beautiful. The two men didn’t really notice. Biden had that trigger-happy look, his desire to just smash something. “So...did you see anything?”
Obama was still trying to decipher what he saw. “The Elements are moving, which is normal. But it’s the ripples of their moving that shows us the currents.” Biden laughed. “Man, I hate when you do that mystic juju. You always end up sounding like Yoda.” Obama shrugged. “Sorry. Explaining what it’s like to see all 12 dimensions is...hard.” Biden slapped him on the shoulder. “I know. I don’t care about the fortune cookies, I want to know what we gotta do about Trump and the Grand Old Ones.”
Obama stopped, looked at a rose like it was the first time he had seen one. A moment of thought. “This isn’t just them. There’s something...different moving. Here. The flows are similar to the Te’, but at the same time, there’s...other stirrings.” Obama “There’s nothing to do here. The GOP’s at war with itself. We don’t interfere, just like the Watergate treaty says. We keep their fight in their boundaries, make sure we don’t get another Pittsburgh. We trust Hillary, we back our side, we try to win. If we lose, we fight him like any other Republican, keeping our side priorities as best we can.”
“And what if he’s not just any other Republican?”
Obama was still staring at the rose. “...then we spend the next four to eight years fighting in the hidden halls and God-knows what else fighting whatever his jive-ass has and hope that we’ve got something meaner.”
Biden grinned. “Hell, we don’t need to worry about this. Hillary’s got him.”
Obama looked up at they sky. “In a normal world, you’d be right.But I don’t know if our world is normal anymore…”
Biden shook his head. “You worry too much. Hillary’s gonna split him open like a frog.”
Meanwhile, in New York
Maya was the office manager for the headquarters. She had seen just about everything politically speaking. Yet even she felt her heart race as she opened the doors into Mrs. Clinton’s personal office, and then opened the secret passageway. She ran down the dark steps, trying her best to remember the words that she was given. Take the steps one at a time. Remember the phrase. Bring no light with you until you see…
The hallway. A long forboding hallway of dark stone. Maya tried to walk down it, but every step was an obvious increase in heat. The door was thirty feet away and glowed red-hot, and Maya found it harder and harder to breathe. Her sweat evaporates as soon as it left her pores. Finally, she just screamed down the hallway. “Mrs. Clinton?!”
The response bounced off the walls, and rumbled through the floor. “Maya, it’s Hillary. I’ve told you that.” After a long pause as Maya tried to figure out what was going on, the voice rumbled again. “I assume something important happened?”
“Y-yes miss. It’s officially Trump. He accepted the nomination.”
There was a pause. “Thank you Maya. I’ll be up shortly.”
Maya left without getting into the inner chamber. The carbon-black circle, walls forty feet tall, molten lava running down the walls in rivulets, creating a small pool of white-hot metal. Only a small pedestal in the center of the room was not burning, and there, in the middle of it, was Hillary. The fires didn’t burn her anymore. The knives bounced off her. The slander fell off her like rain. She had practiced a lifetime of being untouchable for this moment. She thought that had been 8 years ago, but she realized that by losing that fight, she was ready to win all others.
She clapped her hands, and the magma erupted around her. She flowed the metal with her mind, and her eyes burned with power of the Blue. She spoke, and her voice rattled through the halls. “The battle begins! TO WAR!!”, and then she laughed, long and hard.
Soon she would destroy Donald Trump. Soon her destiny would be complete.
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