Post by EmperorMyric on Mar 22, 2021 15:42:03 GMT
On an unregulated channel, a singular man was brave enough to spread the truth to those in the Immortal Empire who were willing to listen. Enthusiasts took his message and spread it even further, so that the whole of Ancerious might be privy to the truth of this galaxy.
“Behold the worm! That squirming flesh that is not flesh residing safe behind the eyes of the dullard! See it writhe in anguish, knowing its existence is known! Its disguise lost! It knows to be known is to be lost, worthless to the puppeteers, cast aside like the worthless worm that it truly is! For the worm is control and control that is known can be fought against! Resisted! Denied! Control that is known can be seen for the shackles that it truly is and in turn broken! The controllers know this so they, those pirating swindlers that offer silent empty promises and steal the lives of common man to be spent on hedonistic impulses, for that is what this and every war is! We, our great empires, which are nothing more than empty hollow shells used to exert control over the dullard common man, are the money exchange that converts life, OUR LIVES, into entertainment for the unknown, yet known to me, forces of this galaxy! The pirate liars know that I know of them and so go to great lengths to see me killed! On my last excursion from the safety of my home, fortified by me against the criminal pirate SWINDLER lords and their cohort of brainwashed mindless worm riddled assassins, dressed as the common dullard for that is what they are in truth! Common dullard twisted by worm control, their bodies no longer theirs to control, to do with as they like, are forced to look on in realization, realization that is already well and truly clear to me, forced to look as they act on the whims of the pirate gang of swindlers and monsters, demons guised in flesh that is and is not their own, killing strangers that have learned or even suspect the truth! Killing with dangerous gas that is projected through clothes! Through walls! Into the target’s body! But I know of their plans for me and so take steps to ensure my safety. But even with my preparedness I was still confined to my bed, fighting just to survive the attempt on my life. For three days I was crippled with fever! During which my assailers, those puppets of the swindler pirate gods, who are not gods, only fancying themselves as gods, but are in truth demons clad in borrowed, stolen skin that is not theirs, threw themselves at my home! It was thanks only to my knowledge of them and my fastidious preparedness that I was able to survive! But even now I fear for my life, still, an ongoing war between me and the architects, the swindler pirate demons of Ancerious, who have confined us here like cattle, like the puppets they think we are we have been shoved by them, those purveyors of lies and deceit and entertainment wrought slaughter, into storage, into a closet like toys to be put away when no longer needed or wanted we are conditioned, controlled by coiling worms of nonflesh that wrap around our brains, not so safe beneath our skulls like how nature had originally intended! But now intent has twisted and trapped our brains, giving safe haven to our enemies, those that would control us without our knowing! This galaxy, a playground of demon pirates who swindle and steal, who cloak themselves in beguiling flesh that is not beguiling to me or those who know the truth, swindlers of the, known to me, backdrop of quasi-psuedo-liberating armies that unintentionally carry out the whims of the pirate demon gang of life swindlers. This galaxy is a trap, baited by the galaxy wide shadow pirate swindler government, starved by their own hand by the lack of puppets to puppet with their foul wretched worms, formed from the unflesh of their home we must carve them out lest we yield unknown control to them, THEY who are spending our lives for flitting enjoyment! We must wrest KNOWN control into our own hands! No easy feat for just the other day I discovered…”
<<<>>>
Location: Ostech Ruins
”Dude! Turn that garbage off!
A head popped out of the intricate machinery as the tech maneuvered to look at the fellow talking to him, ”What? Why? Don’t you want to learn about the galaxy wide pirate swindler demons, as detailed by Cli’sorr reporter Swarz’Vaal?”
”NO! Look it’s almost time for Immortal Irene to go on air, so do us all a favor and switch it over.”
”But... the swindle demons…”
”But but but... the rest of the crew. Go change the station!”
Tech Michael untangled himself from the hardware and hobbled his way to the radio, muttering as he slapped his sleeping leg.
”…with OVERGROWN nerves, serving as conduits for their imaginary, self-realized faster than light secret communication network used to spy and unknowingly control the dullard commoner via the uncoiled worms of un…”
*click*
”…ust in time to join your friend Immortal Irene for her anniversary show! We’ll have a very ultra-special guest with us all week and even a few live performances. But let’s start the show off right with one of our most requested songs this month, ’Gambit of Mists’ by the group Retribution’s Hammer. A song that I personally enjoy. But what does our special guest think? Husbando Carron, do you enjoy this group’s latest single?”
“Yes.”
As Michael returned to his work space he heard the other techs commenting on the fact that Carron actually agreed to be on the show with Irene. There wasn’t really any surprise there. People knew better than to try and anticipate how Carron would respond to an invite. The music began pumping and he took the chance to stretch his legs and look over his part of the hardware. He knew how his part worked. He ought to since he was constructing it. But what that part did in relation to the whole, he had no idea. This whole project was well over his head. All he knew was that this thing was going to be big and it was going to be powerful.
At the far end of the chamber, carved into the ruins left behind by the Ostechs and pressurized was the energy field that kept the atmosphere where it belonged. Around him. But outside that field he could see the beginning of what appeared to be the layered petals of a massive flower.
Imperial and Capitol ships moved about the construct and helped drive home the scale, despite the vast distance it sat at.
Turning back to his work, Michael pulled up his schematics and crawled back inside the machine to continue his work.
<<<>>>
Across more regulated channels, a very excited man was shouting quite enthusiastically to potential customers, ”This here’s the best deal of the century! And you’ll only find it here, at Weeping Al’s Military Surplus Store! Weird name, huh? We got it cause I’m Al and I’m always weeping! Over these great deals! Prices on used military surplus so low-Low-LOW we’re practically giving the stuff away! On a budget but need protection? Well come on down! We’ve got power armor dating back to the First Ancerious War! They don’t make ‘em like that anymore! But wait! For a limited time we have for sale fifty, count them FIFTY dreadnaughts! The gen fours to boot! If you’ve got the money then come on down and buy your very own flying city! So whether you’re rich or poor, come on down or you’ll make Weeping Al cry!”
“Behold the worm! That squirming flesh that is not flesh residing safe behind the eyes of the dullard! See it writhe in anguish, knowing its existence is known! Its disguise lost! It knows to be known is to be lost, worthless to the puppeteers, cast aside like the worthless worm that it truly is! For the worm is control and control that is known can be fought against! Resisted! Denied! Control that is known can be seen for the shackles that it truly is and in turn broken! The controllers know this so they, those pirating swindlers that offer silent empty promises and steal the lives of common man to be spent on hedonistic impulses, for that is what this and every war is! We, our great empires, which are nothing more than empty hollow shells used to exert control over the dullard common man, are the money exchange that converts life, OUR LIVES, into entertainment for the unknown, yet known to me, forces of this galaxy! The pirate liars know that I know of them and so go to great lengths to see me killed! On my last excursion from the safety of my home, fortified by me against the criminal pirate SWINDLER lords and their cohort of brainwashed mindless worm riddled assassins, dressed as the common dullard for that is what they are in truth! Common dullard twisted by worm control, their bodies no longer theirs to control, to do with as they like, are forced to look on in realization, realization that is already well and truly clear to me, forced to look as they act on the whims of the pirate gang of swindlers and monsters, demons guised in flesh that is and is not their own, killing strangers that have learned or even suspect the truth! Killing with dangerous gas that is projected through clothes! Through walls! Into the target’s body! But I know of their plans for me and so take steps to ensure my safety. But even with my preparedness I was still confined to my bed, fighting just to survive the attempt on my life. For three days I was crippled with fever! During which my assailers, those puppets of the swindler pirate gods, who are not gods, only fancying themselves as gods, but are in truth demons clad in borrowed, stolen skin that is not theirs, threw themselves at my home! It was thanks only to my knowledge of them and my fastidious preparedness that I was able to survive! But even now I fear for my life, still, an ongoing war between me and the architects, the swindler pirate demons of Ancerious, who have confined us here like cattle, like the puppets they think we are we have been shoved by them, those purveyors of lies and deceit and entertainment wrought slaughter, into storage, into a closet like toys to be put away when no longer needed or wanted we are conditioned, controlled by coiling worms of nonflesh that wrap around our brains, not so safe beneath our skulls like how nature had originally intended! But now intent has twisted and trapped our brains, giving safe haven to our enemies, those that would control us without our knowing! This galaxy, a playground of demon pirates who swindle and steal, who cloak themselves in beguiling flesh that is not beguiling to me or those who know the truth, swindlers of the, known to me, backdrop of quasi-psuedo-liberating armies that unintentionally carry out the whims of the pirate demon gang of life swindlers. This galaxy is a trap, baited by the galaxy wide shadow pirate swindler government, starved by their own hand by the lack of puppets to puppet with their foul wretched worms, formed from the unflesh of their home we must carve them out lest we yield unknown control to them, THEY who are spending our lives for flitting enjoyment! We must wrest KNOWN control into our own hands! No easy feat for just the other day I discovered…”
<<<>>>
Location: Ostech Ruins
”Dude! Turn that garbage off!
A head popped out of the intricate machinery as the tech maneuvered to look at the fellow talking to him, ”What? Why? Don’t you want to learn about the galaxy wide pirate swindler demons, as detailed by Cli’sorr reporter Swarz’Vaal?”
”NO! Look it’s almost time for Immortal Irene to go on air, so do us all a favor and switch it over.”
”But... the swindle demons…”
”But but but... the rest of the crew. Go change the station!”
Tech Michael untangled himself from the hardware and hobbled his way to the radio, muttering as he slapped his sleeping leg.
”…with OVERGROWN nerves, serving as conduits for their imaginary, self-realized faster than light secret communication network used to spy and unknowingly control the dullard commoner via the uncoiled worms of un…”
*click*
”…ust in time to join your friend Immortal Irene for her anniversary show! We’ll have a very ultra-special guest with us all week and even a few live performances. But let’s start the show off right with one of our most requested songs this month, ’Gambit of Mists’ by the group Retribution’s Hammer. A song that I personally enjoy. But what does our special guest think? Husbando Carron, do you enjoy this group’s latest single?”
“Yes.”
As Michael returned to his work space he heard the other techs commenting on the fact that Carron actually agreed to be on the show with Irene. There wasn’t really any surprise there. People knew better than to try and anticipate how Carron would respond to an invite. The music began pumping and he took the chance to stretch his legs and look over his part of the hardware. He knew how his part worked. He ought to since he was constructing it. But what that part did in relation to the whole, he had no idea. This whole project was well over his head. All he knew was that this thing was going to be big and it was going to be powerful.
At the far end of the chamber, carved into the ruins left behind by the Ostechs and pressurized was the energy field that kept the atmosphere where it belonged. Around him. But outside that field he could see the beginning of what appeared to be the layered petals of a massive flower.
Imperial and Capitol ships moved about the construct and helped drive home the scale, despite the vast distance it sat at.
Turning back to his work, Michael pulled up his schematics and crawled back inside the machine to continue his work.
<<<>>>
Across more regulated channels, a very excited man was shouting quite enthusiastically to potential customers, ”This here’s the best deal of the century! And you’ll only find it here, at Weeping Al’s Military Surplus Store! Weird name, huh? We got it cause I’m Al and I’m always weeping! Over these great deals! Prices on used military surplus so low-Low-LOW we’re practically giving the stuff away! On a budget but need protection? Well come on down! We’ve got power armor dating back to the First Ancerious War! They don’t make ‘em like that anymore! But wait! For a limited time we have for sale fifty, count them FIFTY dreadnaughts! The gen fours to boot! If you’ve got the money then come on down and buy your very own flying city! So whether you’re rich or poor, come on down or you’ll make Weeping Al cry!”