Everyone can do any research about the long history of the complex. Going there during the 2020 era as a tourist will provide you a full tour that tells you the living known history that spans many centuries and many crowns. They made documentaries, tv shows lay9ng out the exact timeline the building was made from and mock dramas based on the fame of people that been in the tower.
From those imprisoned in the tower and the blood the seeps its grounds. The fact it had a lions, an elephant and a giraffe at a given point. That there are original roman walls. The moat gates from each direction have significance. Those that came, to never leave or were hung off them as reminders of law. That some ceremonies never stopped unless it was war. The modern discovered of very bone remains of the unknown brothers that died mysterious 'accident' at the tower.
(Edit from 2026, fun fact about the real life; given the brothers are reportedly royal blood. This part they did confirm from the initial founding of the bones. The current royal family has to give permission to do data DNA analysis, meaning allowance of the royal family genes to be explored. Elizabeth II refused for her whole reign. But rumors go that the current king Charles is interested, yet he also hasn't gave permission, yet! Charles is known for his love of history, conservation and every thing with natural history. Its a matter of time. May not be him but maybe William.)
The tower of London is just as much a lock down prison as it was in the early days as it is in the spirit world. Spirits are grounded, locked there and unable to leave those walls for as long as the centuries held them up. There is a system to exchange souls out of the grounds, but there is paperwork and purgatory laws.
In order to keep the grounds sealed, an legend has presided from the frist stone laid down. The Tower curse, the one about the ravens needing to stay within the tower or else the royal bloodline will fall. This has a spirit ritual that has locked the restless ghosts. Even during the wars, when the bombed walls were shook. Survived many sieges long before guns were affective.
As of (another real world fact, 2026) recent documentary about the Tower, the last to been executed there was a spy during the second World War.
Meaning the blood ritual has kept a sharpe hum. Persistent to feed the ritual that has locked souls inside its gates.
"Daydreaming again..." her watcher hissed, staring at stilled hands that should be copying word for word some confessional obligations. She noticed her chains, sees the collar tracker that she was wearing not long ago at the side of the document. She sees a slate open of her glitching identity status. She looked at the document glitching too... looks of the era isn't sure which when this visit is.
"Keep writing." The fist slams at her front to startle her. Instead her eyes flashed colours and the slate soon made a bright alert of warning. The document before her, curls like invisible fire has claimed and broke down the very materials it made with. Leaving a sandy texture across the surface. The pen she been using was a blobbed beaded plastic puddle. Just briefly, the flesh of her fingers to her wrists was replaced by her natural soul form... sticky thin twig claws that bend abnormally. The flesh was back normal when the collective of witnesses are holding back.
"I warned you that a soul claim over this being was going to fail." Someone walks around from a screen, "Well, being is a classification stretch of the imagination." They sit down across and brushed the surface sand to test it, "Not worth the quality for what I need. You're a merchant with some dangerous materials. Yet, there are plenty that continue to surprise me that say you are uniquely interested in being legal. Plenty of those make some claims that breaks my mind often." The gentleman wipped the dust away into a bin another slide fast to collect the sand bits. He sits back, "They say looking down the abyss will invite it to watch you back." Crossed his arms, "Tragically paved history that broke this soul, turly."
"I will not sell myself or anything worth equivalent of my worth." She softly, gentle finger postures... her merchant greeting and lawful boundary setting. She showed open palms when waiting for a reply.
"Wow that is old." He took his time and had even struggled with making the gestures return. She softly corrected the important ones, directly leaning over and posing his hands to the right measure. He softly was able to start again, the correct way. She felt comfortable enough to remove her face off now. Placing it to be dust on her lap. He stares not affected by the turth. Those around him have elevated hearts and sweat.
"Visitor. You are here willingly. You likely came to fetch someone or something. Are you paying exchange?" Testing her.
"Depends if I find my fated one." She rumbles hollow empty inside the making of herself, "Otherwise making basic exchanges at the safe measures is all this is." She peels her chest folds and removed a fake sand pouch, "How much does one need?" He stares about the pouch and thinks about this. One the men goes to take it but he stopped them.
"The death order tells me that you sell to the boss directly." She took back her fake pouch and puts a pinch amount sealed in a glass vessel instead to the table, "That must be very strong sand."
She takes it back and studies the being. She was doing valued calculations of their worth, their ranking and the data off their own slate. She swipped plenty enough data to know the ranking her merchant value cares for.
"General ranking Vampire is seeking a star chart into the graveyard." She crossed her arms in thinking about how to go about the valued exchange, "You will be making a deal with the transportation ship flinger. Long dead the crew and still the object is as alive as I am." Eyes narrowed across many here and sharp was the move to knock out the only human in here that wasn't trusted yet. Fang flashed in fear and a primitive predator flexed itself to look more intimidating. He gouging the table in deep valleys.
"Ease." Commanded the highest of them. Man is replaced with the real leader here, "I should have been more smart about who makes deals with abyss walker." This is a vampire from space, seen stars and other species of being. He isn't afraid of something that mimics human to blend in. He is respectful of a monster that respects back. He made his own gestures and his own lay down of his rules. She gestures back in turn. Cutting ties of the previous talker.
"What business do you want in exchange?" He is clear.
"I want a copy of editions, there are 125 copies. Made by the bloodline between a human divine caster and the vampire grandmaster. A book that logs the twilight creatures. I have read the uploaded few pages on the serve access and other universe versions. The next time we met, you will have accomplished part of the soul ambitions. Making steps to saving your race and being its next leader... maybe. That part differs in each universe. I couldn't tell if you are going to be. I just know you are determined to save your vampire race from erasure."
The man across from her blink many a time. He had to take a long time to reach the sub text of her knowledge. If anything, he was consumed by the deep importance and the sheer certainty in her.
"You want a book that I never heard of?"
"Well it is you that give it me or I make the exchange with lizard men." She poses like that was common sense, "Sorry, they are draconian." She wafted her left hand, "Star map will only last before some of the star points implode. Several stars have been swallowed by black holes lately." The vampire man closed his eyes in his own mental health. He had to breath a few times. He stood up. The strange of two moment in mirror finally differed. Leaving her behind in the one she cares more for.
"When we meet again." He had stood, to then sit down suddenly with exhaustion. This version is older... staring at her as they word for word repeated the previous talk. Triggering her alertness to focus on him properly.
"You gave us the map without us knowing it. You predicted a complication in order to explain your wish." He wafted his men and soon a dusty book that has gone through many uv baths and radiation wiping to be here. Not a cell of tissue of any active contamination. It was a heavy leather bound book that belongs to an era lacking technology. But there was veins of crystal computer matrix alive in the pages... a future technique that can't be replicate by any current design. Not only was the pages inked of human notes, the very creatures documented have written into the lacing of their page the turth they wanted to be declared correctly. She takes it purring, loving handling the pages with worshiped soft pats. She became softly connected and consumed by the nerve system upload upon touching the makers page.
"Abyss walker." She shook out of the absorption enough to be the now and present. She closed the leather and sunk it into becoming a part of her. All that knowledge of the creatures and what they claim of themselves has latched her soul.
"Sir!" They all lifted strange weapons and the leader gestured to stop interfering.
"Abyss walker, do you know the turth about the history of that station?" He softly asked.
"No. Not this version of it. I know versions in other universes, which you know to travels through those gates with. I know many gates were lost. Most that were, are now broken by things at the otherside of the wormhole they paved. There is only three known gates left. Maybe seven. I am not all knowing or something that cares about these matters. I care about languages and the things that create the language. I do no fuss over political propaganda or dominance of which race." The current broken hearted vampire looking at her thinks over this. That the abyss walker knows what is does because it clearly found some method of its own to travel wormhole. That it knows turth in a twisted subtext due to its consumption of languages.
"I think I understand now. The race that created those stations died because there are dangerous things like you. Gladly you are human enough with mortals. You are straighten by your trades." He lowered his head, "But there has to be other abyss walkers whom are worse."
"Indeed. There is one here... that isnt me. That is a parasite to something else. It has fractured Londons time zones. When it is defeated and consumed, all this time glitching will stop. London will stop changing on the chime of the hour." He stares in absences of thoughts. She turned away too with her own thinking, "I can't stop the black hole projects completion. That is a pivotal key stone event that makes the inspirational content towards improving space travel. Star charts becoming keenly useful." She shows open hands, "I am not aiming to be some enemy or problem."
"You going to let the governments of the world finish the research then letting the divine magic users do it." Figuring her out, "And that makes you an inmate here. Punishment for failing to prevent souls from harm." She lowered down with this turth bare. He turned to his men, they provided a creatures keepers collar. Tossing it to her, "You saved more lives in how you doing this. You gave us the space charts to save them. If you undo the very materials that allowed us to repair and travel there. You condemned my whole race to be erased." So his a realist and sees cost. He sees affect. He makes some assumptions in educational analysis. She takes and wears the collar. They filled the release form. They escorted not just her but the entire team she needed out of the spirit prison.
"What did you do!" Her fated one snapped in seeing her wear the collar willingly.
"Relax humans. She is a monster in human skin as much as we are. The collar is not enslavement. It is a tool." Explained as cuffs are being removed as they are taken outside the tower walls, "The abyss walker may scheme but she schemes run far past humanity. Saving so many lives you never realized existed."
Josh and Rose are united once more from separation and that was displayed pleasure was going a bit far for public modesty. The chains that held Raven, or it will seem this is a version of Omens pretending to be a human. The chains are broken off him. The weight creaked the stone at the feet. He rubs his areas from the pain and spoke in native languages in how disrespectful acts gets these abyss crosses their krama quicker.
She has finally figured out that gods are a form of aliens in this universe. Just as the vampires are. Truthfully there are many races side by side but views apart. Mages are mix bloods of native humans and space humans. There is a bunch of other mind melting things that breaks the entire known systems. That no wonder sigil is broken and locational dependant.
"We just got out of the undertakers version of inescapable prison because she spoke to some creep twice." Philip screams at Daniel. Daniel was beyond done with being reactive about her being strange. He is able to see her lack of humanity longer then anyone. Daniel has also known the strange about Omens and Matthew the longest.
"Loki stop eating the ravens!" She hissed and the moo bird lands on her shoulder. Equally upon having spoke about them. Morpheus shows up too. His invisible in the waking world, but he was felt tapping her foot. Begging for uppies. She had no hesitation for scooping up the tubby black ball and giving him love. Forming as a purring black fat cat in her arms, kneading her chest and sighing satisfied into deep sleep. He faded from this existence upon his return to his sleep.
"Lady Mythic." The lord vampire shouted, he throws her a whole backpack of interesting tools, "We have given you title as duchess of the Vampire courts. You have been gifted back many lost entitlements. Including your crown status as an Undertaker." She makes a smug gesture, "Do you you have to... you know what I stand to loose." She wasn't smiling about that. Instead it is a respectful return of seriousness, "So you think my race will have enough to continue even if you manage to save us?" He asked bluntly.
"Souls adapt to cross the boundaries, minds always seeking curiosities. How much are you paying to stay stale or are you going to take the chance? Sink or swim... heck even being neither means you exist it the media that suspends you." He sharp eyes measured this considered outsider view.
"You are a monster." He declared and he goes back the safety they have. The tower moat gate closing once the boat crossed back out of executioners gate.
"Was it you?" A shadow entangled and was messing about fussing the bird man omens, "Are you ok, my lord?"
"You're attachment of the abyss got us all out with making a shady businesses with the untouchable executioner." Omens tells what he does know, "Eliza, what exactly did you give them to make them give you back your soul statuses? I couldn't translate all of the back chatter." The glare stare, "Why did they give you a tome? Without checking your credentials?"
"Oh they did check my credits. They knew my merchant abyss nightmare status. They openly knew the second they attempted to soul bound me that they screwed up." everyone blinked with disbelief, "I have to finish what I planned."
She looked about at the directions, she spotted the strange way the London bridge looks from this angle. And the way it was broken in rifts of different time eras openly. How a collapsed part is suspended mid segment. 1920 cars enter one end. Modern cars spat the other side. The depressing wood version in soot is still barely hung. The old nursery tale that everyone nose from the time of the black death.
London bridge is falling down. Falling down.
"But that isn't where the thing that is making this wrap time events happening. Just another obstacle in the way of finding it." She felt into a pocket, removing poppies and a tissue. She stares darkly of that tell. She looked at them each and there was indeed tells. Side affects of when they got out of Unlondons network. They have contracted a version of the illness that claimed. She look so shocked of this, her Loki nosed her ear.
"I have monitoring this a long time now. They had it when they left my wife." She blinked in how far back that is actually, "You have forced them to adapt to survive longer. I don't know how but you seem to keep finding combinations that prevent me from them. Really at this point I am watching the show." The moo bird jumps off her and onto Omens.
"I put up with you because I know too." Omens must have made a deal with death about this.
"My brother is willingly to over look the discrepancy if you continue doing what other gods condemn against you about most. And over the the temper tantrum the tome does." Death furthers this point, his after all a sub version from a breach that helps the passing over. Going by the Greek accent. This is a piece of Hades more then the personification. And he is likely meaning Thanato. The collector of the dead.
She didn't even need to bother tome checking the souls about these lot. She was more in tune with her abyss creature habits then any previous lifetimes. She suspects this is her returned life back right after breaking the sequences of enslavement clauses. Which she then felt she knew why those of the Tower spat her out as fast as possible. As they are withholding something owned to her.
"I know that look." They backed away from her as she sharp gazes back the close gate. The gaurd who stood on the walls above the gate over the moat, has been there to make sure the boat was back. He was also spying for why they haven't moved yet. The human shivered in knowing she spotted them.
"Don't make me crawl back in there and ruin the beautiful monument." She snapped and the 'beef eater' stares back. A pause of breath and decisions making. He speaks soon into a slate and the sergeant ranker of gaurds appears. Slow, displined steps.
"State your business." Faned confidence. Trained to be controlled emotions. Lack fear for things that should be feared.
"The return of my documents that you very quickly prevented me from taking. Taking my rights." The sergeant heard this even from the distance that should make this hard, because she isn't speaking with human voice. She is using the one that travels a vacuum. The debate wasn't long with the 'beef eater' and Sergeant. They are humans with alertness of the danger that she poses. They know she isnt mincing words.
"Open this gate." The sergeant barks the command and watching deeply as Eliza ignores some rules. Walking the water surface like a holy magic trick. She walks in reaching docking steep steps, and on making to level ground. She stands silent and waiting. She nods respectful of the rules.
"Yes, they indeed did try to make you leave the documents behind. Hoping you forgot about the release forms needed to take souls from the cells here. Or else they just put the souls back here in the next afterlife." Cold brushed her neck, the title mask clings on her. It was thinking deeply, using her as a host meaning it is hearing her inside words. Hearing her mental tasking and tracking of many vague strings. Things that seems nonsense to be tracking but this title being knows she wouldnt make mental maps like those for nothing.
"Miss Fallown? Or Seer?" The approaching brown suited man, looking to normal. Common person. Yet she smells the corpse about it and its skin is painted colouring of life. She made three goes of assessment and on almost a fourth. A beef eater blocked the man from approaching her. The block was simple left hand blocking. The common man made a micro-reaction, rage and annoyance, changed to a cold blank. Backing down.
"Returned from outside." A much more official person with the correct uniform. The flash show of a crystal slate name status thing, which was enough for her, "Signing out four souls. You signed it and were meant to pick them up now the review was done." They tried to give it with a right hand. She doesnt take it, they swap hands nervously. She takes it with her left hand, "Clothus adapted... Yet I can tell you been around a very long time outside. You have that ability to adapt your soul swiftly. Changing the state of it at will." She tucked the papers into her body, "Doesn't that hurt?"
"It does hurt, but adapting to survive matters more." She answered softly. She felt the papers in her, "I see that you met my many grandkids." The guy smiles and the brown creep took a sharp stare, "How many generations has been since they forgotten me?"
"None have forgotten. You are so famous that you can't be forgotten." She shurgs of that and softly focuses with going back, "It has been eight remaking of the core tome since you put down the pen. Plenty miss your pen work." She looked back with hearing that. Her mind turned blankly for that moment.
"Eight times." Her tremble was wafted in those two words. She made a nerve tick, a neck breaking shift and put back the second it happened. The line of what should be her mouth went past her neck for that brief nerve tick. The humans backed away and raised wary weapons. Lowered when she turned away with fixing her appearance. And with pulling flesh over. A new face cover. And a magic cast of an outfit shift.
"Wait, no." The brown suit lost his complexion and fell into the mud of the cobble flooring. The men of the Tower straighten into better respect for this her.
"Do not make me pick up the pens in desperate worry." She spoke in natural, whatever language that was understood best. The men bow or salute. She goes back down the steep steps, across the water. The gate closes once more.
She fussed with a bit of her clothes on approaching back with the group. They all looked... afraid of her. She studies each of them and the snorted. She knew why those enders are afraid of her.
"I am no longer the person at that book. You know that." The turn of fear spikes from hearing her speaking.
"Do you still calculate the worth of organs and skin?" Daniel brave to speak up.
"Of course I do. Why bother wasting valued goods that talks at you?" Omens back pats the vessel holding the soul of Hades. Her loki made a very strangled tone of loosing control. Now that her loki was the one at the helm, the white moo blur was soon across her shoulders. Purring into her right ear with spat painting. She sighed in how her loki never changes.
"And..." in holding her arms to hug close, a black body was back there. Purring deep long loud purring. She hugs as there is a shifting of the perceptions. This body in her arms. The dream curtains are thickened, hiding away. Erasing the nightmare based beings are disappearing back to the way they should be. She can always sees back into the veil, but she would have to spend a strained energy to do so. While now there is repairs of veils that are putting this universe out of the broken status it was. She hugs her empty arms close to only herself.
"All of them are gone." She recounted personal history, "The ghost will keep haunting me." She lost focus woth looking back at the bridge.
And with a flex that seams snapped and pressure of energy shift. So did the misalignment of many viewing perceptions flex to the way they should be.
She stood apart from a small group of friends, smoking a normal cigarette while they just left from following a beef eater tour guide. She glimpse her wrist to a smart watch made of crystal chiping technology. Her notifications about calendar dates that mattered for her. She also spotted several tattoos, like properly inked through human skin. She took a breather as her watch alerted to her stress spiking. She took holiday because of stress and here she is getting herself worked up. She stubs out the bud.
"Leana, did you know about the crowns use to be housed here?" She smirks in how her found freinds were nerds for odd things.
"Yes, I bet they moved them to the bank vaults." She snorts, "They say some the items are cursed." She says teasing but clearly in current times. This made them pale, "I need a drink, how about you lot?" They looked at each other.
"Do you accent change a lot?" Someone asked.
"Ugh, yes. My relaxed voice. My work voice. And even my home voice are all different. It is a subconscious thing. I gave up trying to stop myself a long time ago." They smile and teased her for some the way she spoke the words just now. She doesn't mind. She makes photos with them at the traitors gate. They were getting themselves ready to leave. She makes a look back over her shoulder.
Long silvery hair, long brim hand shading to hid his face. The clothing of a funeral director crossing a early mid victorian style. The posture of contemplating. She goes to fully turn but he was gone then. She sighed sad to miss him.
She faced back with her friends group, they cut her out again in conversation. Assuming she was zoned out or already listening to them. Once she hung to the words enough to figure out deal, they all were about to move off. She followed behind them at the back of the group collum.
"Dont bother." Cold grappled her backwards, "They are already bewitched. Everything is organized." She stays in his hold, "Go back to saint Paul's." Slipping money to her hand, he tucked a few things into her handbag too. He brushed her hair with the back of his hand as he slips grip. She cant see him. See anything abnormal. Normal London streets with tourist and business.