“Welcome to your destiny.”  The old Timestreamer’s voice echoed hollowly in the large antechamber, filling the silence with an eerie portent.  Fresh from his battle with Kain, Raziel slowly approached the legendary archmage.  Flickers of green energy from the wraithen Soul Reaver skittered across the chamber, fitfully illuminating the sign of the infinite on the floor and a darker, hulking mass of machinery beyond. Raziel stared at demi-mortal human, supposedly beheaded by Kain a millennium ago.  “What is this?” he snapped.  “Even a vampire cannot recover his head.  What are you?”
      Moebius, incredibly alive after all this time - and there was no doubt it was him; Raziel had seen the Timestreamer’s statue himself – chuckled dryly.  “Just as there was a possibility where Kain deprived my of my life, there existed another where he did not.  It was no small feat to change timelines, and I can no longer exist in your frame.  So, I brought you to mine, instead.”
     “To what end?”  Raziel’s voice was a hiss.  “By all the gods, I am tired of being played for a fool, and I will not be your pawn any more than I will be Kain’s!  Explain yourself, old man, before I finish what Kain had begun!”

     Unperturbed, Moebius settled his robes about him before speaking.  “Your former master has meddled with the currents of time, having taken my machinery for himself.  He has only the most basic notion of how to control time effectively, though –“ here Moebius paused, shaking his head ruefully – “Kain learns quickly enough.  Too quickly for Nosgoth’s good.”  Idly, Moebius began tracing the symbol of the infinite on the floor with the tip of his staff.  “Nothing is predestined, though time flows like a mighty river; it is difficult to turn the future from the most likely path.  However, it is possible, given the proper actions at the proper time.  With my help, you can thwart Kain’s ends, though it will not be an easy task.  What say you, reaver-of-souls?”

     Moebius watched the undead vampire consider, his human eyes barely able to meet the baneful glow of Raziel’s.  Raziel circled Moebius slowly, weighing the Timestreamer’s words carefully.  “What purpose have you in helping me?  Altruism, perhaps?  I find that hard to believe.  You are renowned, Moebius, as a trickster and a cheat.”  The blazing eyes narrowed.  “I have already been betrayed twice.  Once by my liege; once by my brothers.  I tell you, it will not go well for you if you are the third.”  The Soul Reaver swung up, menacingly; its shivering tip loomed barely inches from Moebius’ throat.  “I find little reason to side with you, Moebius, or with anyone else for that matter.”
     “So indeed, but without me you have not a chance in all hell of getting at Kain,” said Moebius, smugly.  “Take your chances, reaver-of-souls.  Trust me, and gain your revenge.”  He gestured once with his staff, and a time portal shot with stars opened in the far wall.  “Therein lies your next step, Raziel.  Will you take it?”
     The former vampire approached the portal cautiously.  Uncertain, he looked back over his shoulder at the Timestreamer.  “Where and when does this lead to?”
     “This portal I have raised will follow Kain’s course,” replied Moebius.  “Track him down and prevent him from tinkering with history.  You may have no love for me, Raziel, but I have little wish to see Nosgoth ruined any further.  Not even I know what Kain’s plan is.  That, I leave to you.”

   Raziel turned back to the time portal.  Slowly, he stepped through the shimmering curtain and into the slipstream.

   Moebius watched him go, eyes lighting with an unholy glee as the tips of Raziel’s wings disappeared into the portal.  At a manic pace, he pulled levers and made minute adjustments to the strange contraption designed to manipulate time, muttering incomprehensibly to himself all the while.  At last he stood back, arms folded across his chest, immeasurably pleased.
     All of a sudden, the mechanisms of the timestreaming device began to move independently, as if of their own volition.  Moebius stared in disbelief as control of the timestreaming device was ripped from his hands.  A second presence, barely felt, was changing the settings and diverting Raziel’s course!  Frantic, Moebius bent his not-inconsiderable psychic and physical strength to recovering his precious machine.  The presence in the room grew stronger and stronger, affirming control.  Sending his mind outwards to meet the threat, Moebius furiously initiated contact with the usurper, only to recognize the source of the sending with a most unpleasant shock.

     “Damn you!” he howled, unable to repel the presence. “You promised you would not interfere!” 

     The presence, distinctly feminine, replied coldly, “You knew our noninterference with your schemes would only last for as long as we were unaffected.  There is still the matter of the secondborn brother, and we need the reaver-of-souls to rid us of him.  Too many of the Host have gone against Turel and lost their lives, only to be reborn as vampires.  We cannot permit you to remove Raziel from this frame until this pestilence has been removed.”  The voice paused.  “Unlike you and Kain, we do not desire to manipulate Raziel; there will be a fair trade for a fair fight.  It is far easier for us if he sides with us of his own free will. Afterwards, what happens will be up to you.” 

    With that, Moebius’ mind was thrown back into his body with jarring force.  He gasped, holding his head in his hands, a terrific headache pounding behind both eyes.  Defeated, he slumped to the floor.  Cradling his pounding head in his hands, Moebius muttered to the empty shadows, “Raziel is not going to like this.”