Rule of Fear

The figure strode down the hallway, concealed from the eyes of the mechanical guards by powerful magics. His bare feet padded softly on the cold, hard metal floors; adamantium, he noted. He could feel the energy of the magics used to enchant the metal, one of the strongest in the multiverse, into something even more powerful. He could feel, with the barest flicker of his attention, the individual energies of those who had created this place and among them was his nephew; though it would have to wait, he relished the thought of once more confronting him. “Without those other meddling fools,” he thought, “my nephew will perish as did my brother.” He found the place he was after, two guards stood sentry outside. Everything was as he expected. He allowed them to see him, their metallic blue eyes clearly registering surprise at the sudden intrusion. Before them stood the figure of a human male, powerfully built and seven feet tall. He was naked but for a small black skirt and a band of gold encircling his left bicep and the black metal Ankh hanging around his neck. Most startling was that his head was not that of a normal man, but the terrifying visage of donkey, eyes glowing red, fuelled by some terrible power and suddenly these immortal guardians of clockwork and gears experienced their first very real, very mortal, taste of fear and dread. Before them stood one of mankind’s oldest gods, a god of fear and corruption and destruction, a god who slew his own brother. A god who was so powerful at his height that an entire pantheon stood against him and could barely imprison him but not destroy him. In front of them, stood Set.