The world went quiet, too quiet. I rise from my bed, my head feels like someone is walking around on my brain and kicking every once in a while. I stumble to the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet. It’s empty. Not so much as a Q-tip. I shut it and back out of the bathroom and pull open the door to the hall.

There is nothing there. Literally nothing at all. Just a gray-white fog. No floor, no ceiling, no walls. I turn to look at the rest of the room. The walls are there but not much else. All the clothing is gone. At least the walls are there. I should look out the window.

I walk over to the window and look out.

Outside there is a … well my feet and legs.

“Mr. Hicks? Mr. Hicks are you back with us?” a polite, feminine voice asks.

I mumble something as I attempt to focus on my surroundings. I am in a bed. A hospital bed. I close my eyes and I am surrounded by cubes. All of them brown except two, which are blue. One is at the foot of my bed and one to my right. I open my eyes.

“You are cubes!” I say. Did that come out of me?

“HA! I’ve never been called that before,” says the anesthesiologist standing at my right elbow.

“Me either!” a female nurse laughs.

“Ah, yeah. What … oh, cardio-version. So I am back to normal?”

“Yes, arrhythmia all cleared up.”

“How do you feel?” my wife asks. I didn’t see her before.

“High as kite. No pain,” I answer.

“Good. You were laughing like a loon a little bit ago.”

“I don’t remember that at all.”

I don’t really want to talk to this guy. It’s been 3 or 4 centuries since we last spoke and that seems too soon. As if that wasn’t bad enough he wants to meet in Antartica. I look around and the snow goes on for miles in all directions. It’s a flat, featureless white plane. No tracks, no cracks, no nothing. Probably reminds him of home. You’d think he’d be sick of it by now. I hear a loud pop and turn to see a tall, slim figure wearing a white robe standing there. There is some hazy outline of wings behind it. The features of it’s face are regular with two bright blue eyes and a long straight nose. The hair is blonde.

“Cassiel. Long time no see. I would have liked to keep it that way.”

“Malphas, not my request,” Cassiel says with distaste.

“Great, I was hoping He'd forget about me. What is it He wants?”

Cassiel looks around, sighs then says, “He wants you to … take a message to Him.”

I am taken aback by this request. All I can do is stare at Cassy while I try to wrap my head around the idea that they are no longer talking. I shake myself and ask, “So is the … can’t … I don’t even know what to ask you!”

“I know, I know. Two extraordinarily powerful beings are unable to talk to each other,” Cassiel says while massaging the bridge of his nose.

“So what is the message?”

“You are going to like this even less,” Cassiel says, pauses, then continues. “The Dread Ally has fallen. The time is nigh to assemble the hosts.”

I stare at him for a long time. This is not good. Not good at all. I like this long period of not fighting. I’ve gotten out of the habit. I’d rather sit in a bistro eating a croissant, drinking tea watching the humans do their thing than fight. Especially anything that could defeat …

“The Dread Ally? That's really bad. OK. I’ll pass that on,” I tell Cassiel, then add. “Where are we supposed to assemble?”

“The plain of Odadar.”

“Any idea what we are facing?”

“The Light of Allar seems to be behind the attack.”

“What? Oh no no no. We barely defeated it last time with the Dread Ally. Alone?”

This is even more not good. The last time we faced those bastards we lost a third of our host.

“I thought He was going to keep them banished to the outer chaos?”

“Me too. I beginning to have my doubts about ...” Cassiel starts then abruptly stops talking.

“If we are going to face LOA again we are going to have to get help.”

Cassiel looks really uncomfortable. It’s tough for them, keeping their belief that we are the only entities like us around. I have no delusions about that. I’ve met Torr, Shiv and Prome. They look different than us but are pretty much the same.

“All right, tell Him that I will pass on the message and I will see new allies. Also tell Him to grow up. I gotta go.”

“Yes … thank you, Malphas,” Cassiel says then disappears with a loud pop.

I look around one more time. Crap, why couldn’t this be something else? War is brutal and ugly. I like things the way they are. I sigh then focus on a place in my mind, invoke a transportation spell and take myself there.