In the Midst of Chaos, there is also Opportunity

Raphael spent long minutes observing the arrangement of clippings, string and odd bits laid out over the table. In his mind's eye he was drawn to a vision of a great bonfire a full story high surrounded by writhing bodies. The dancers were falling into their patterns each step becoming easier to predict and manipulate. The distances were ever the same. Arcane formulae driving them into orbits they could not escape.

He laid the pattern on the table over his vision and followed the ebb and flow of the dance. The new dancers taking up the voids between the faceless bodies around the fire. Then he took a polished fang and placed it near a full page of a newspaper covered in black wax dripped into an image like a smiling skull. As the tether attached to it crossed over a jagged piece of obsidian the dancers broke stride and pushed against the masses until all the strings were pulled taut again. He moved it back and again observed each step as the orbitals pushed the entranced iyewos to keep them between the fire and the other bodies.

There were the breaks and the crosses, those moments when forces alone would see them cast down. He found what he needed there, the place where an outside force could drive them all into collision.

Walking out into the benighted city he was reminded of a book he had long ignored, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil," for none could surpass me.