Post by EmperorMyric on Jul 24, 2021 14:00:29 GMT
Xullis System: Limawa Space
It was quite spectacular given its roots, the city that had grown up replete with its shining spires and glittering architecture had been little more than muddy fields and open land just 100 years earlier.
In just 100 years, the Limawa peoples had been transformed from undeveloped plane grazers to a fully functioning and highly socially developed spacefaring species. All because of the guidance of one who had come to them from the sky, united their peoples and taught them of the great journey. They had named him ‘Arkol’ ‘The one who guides’ and none officially knew who or what he was, only that he was benevolent and held immense power.
Arkol had uplifted the minds of the Limawa people and guided them forwards to the next step whenever they were ready, teaching them of the wheel, of the harvest and of the space fold systems of FTL travel. He had taken such a backwater species and turned them into a pacifist but incredibly socially advanced nation, nothing was wasted, and everyone had a purpose. Arkol had of course imparted his knowledge much slower now as they progressed, the next step taking ever longer to achieve, and so the being sequester himself away in the first hut their people had created for him to live.
And it was where the foreign individuals were heading now. Of course the world was no stranger to foreign tourists or even scientists, coming to study the wondrous uplift of their species. Or the attempts of pirates who had seen easy pickings, only to be erased by Arkol himself in his protection. But these were different, it was like a catwalk which proceeded down the main avenue of the capital city, their truly abhorrently extravagant different dresses and suits and designs glittering with kaleidoscopic light which danced off the towering silver spires that surrounded the way. They strode with an air of total superiority, as much a swagger as true movement like every step, action or thought had to be for the perfect pose. To them everything was a statement, every breath, every action and their mission here was no different. To anyone else they were known simply as #IMAGO to the Limawa peoples who were oblivious to their nature, they were some odd curiosity.
The individuals were part of a larger group, which had landed not only around the planet but also on the other colonies of the Limawa, each person was a bedazzled unique wardrobe of designs which the uplifted species did simply not understand or appreciate. Which made this task all the more important, what species could be allowed to live if it had no taste? As the main band strutted down the avenue the spires grew taller as they reached the governmental district, but it was the lone mud hut at the end in a small mostly untouched area of greenery that they aimed for.
Limawa had no military, Arkol had defended them since their first songs about the stars, and none moved to bar the clearly heavily armed mad men. And at last they stopped. Each of the 30 pulling poses like the backdrop to some poor funk band who was far out of date. They held a close formation, almost obscuring something inside their small clique, but it was the huge male at the front who stepped forward. His armour, a segmented plate which had each individual section playing a holographic scene of every atrocity #IMAGO had ever committed was made of pure pearl and shone brilliant in the mid-day sun. His equipment was just as insane as the rest but he carried a huge club, a mockery of the wooden cartoon cavemen clubs from the old Ancnet Saturday morning shows.
“Oh cooey!” He shouted, the entire group making a choir sound that echoed as a backing to his every word that followed.
“Arkol, I know you’re in there, why don’t you come out and play?” As the backing choir stopped a veritable crowd had assembled to watch what was happening. For a few moments there was silence, then the small flap on the mud hut was pulled back and the quite bland and normal form of Arkol walked out and over to the group.
The #IMAGO group collectively threw up, repulsed at the sheer…. Normality of the creature. For one with such godlike powers to be a deity and to look like this? Shameful, heretical even. An affront against everything. The being before them looked like a Limawa, with subtle differences and paint marks across its face. It wore a worn robe, and went bare footed, but despite the appearance they all knew its power.
“Oh my silly billy, how such high and mighty can go around looking like that makes me disgusted. You know why we are here don’t you? Having seen you like this honestly makes me want to forgo the flashy bits and get it over and done with” The man sighed, melodramatically acting as If he was in great pain.
“I know why you are here yes. I ask you to kindly leave. There is only death on the path that you wish” The voice of the deity was soft, calm and surprisingly hard to pick out, like a mumbling sound in a crowd. Honestly, this was more pathetic than they had thought, was this a terrible pick? Did they choose wrong?
“Death for you perhaps Hmm? They say you derive your power from these people is that correct my dirty friend?” again more melodrama as if this was some sort of poor theatre act. A series of small drones were deployed by one of the team to hover around the area and record.
“They say a lot of things. Now leave” Arkols voice changed, anger had crept in and for a brief instant the man in the armour thought the god had let his perception field down as he gazed however briefly onto a burning, roiling multi-coloured inferno. A smirk came across his face.
“Guess we will do this anyway then” He clicked his fingers, and one of his entourage brought out a small black box, they all seemed to pull out various headphones then and put them on, some were small air pods while others had enormous and hand sculpted huge headphones. Once all were on he clicked his fingers again, and the box was opened. Along with every box across Limawa space. At once, they began to scream, a low moaning wail as the higher functions of the Limawa mind were ripped away. Arkol roared and fell to his knees. The effect only lasted a minute before he snapped his fingers and the boxes were closed and put away.
In 100 years, Arkol had uplifted this species, in one minute, #IMAGO had reduced them to the grazing animals he had found. The being, dropping all façade revealed itself to be the blazing inferno that was glimpsed before, power coursed through it, and despite the huge reduction in power by the destruction of its people Arkol would be no easy fight.
”I will take your life like you took my legacy from me” It boomed, the voice of the being shattering the silver spires and rocking the area.
“Oh no silly I don’t think so, after all, we have our own ways of making this work” The group stepped aside, to reveal a single man who was silently sniggering to himself. And with the click of a pair of fingers the whole group including the new surprise got to work.
Foremunda System: Unaligned Space
Faleka sat at the rather large table in the traditional robes she always wore. The small china tea set before her had been laid out perfectly, down to the exact special alignment needed to be total perfection. It had been hand crafted by the very people who she had discovered were now for all intents and purposes gone. She sighed as she poured some rose tea for herself, the sakura tree behind her blowing in the wind and covering the entire area in beautiful pink flowers, each one curving as to not fall onto the table. The sound of water complemented the situation as the stream where this beautiful vista was set up flowed freely and clear.
It was a difficult thing to summon others like her. It wasn’t like calling for help from a conventional nation, one didn’t just put up a distress call on the Ancnet for other gods to come and meet up. As such Faleka was reduced to other ways, she had sent a subtle psionic message across the galaxy, using natural mandalas and more to amplify it to all corners for what she needed. To any normal being it was unperceivable, to psionics it would be like a fleeting sensation but to those with power like her it would be a message a call to arms in a way. Faleka had spent her entire existence wandering this galaxy, and while the many nations were substantially linked, the beings that resided here were as divided as ever.
And yet one of their number had been hunted down for a statement, so this had to change. They had to act.
And so she had sent the call out, asking any who would come to meet her here in this tranquil place.
Zaoth System Capital of the High Imperium
To most, the small chunk of rock meandearing around its orbit was unimpressive. Except that when scanned, all signals seemed to just vanish, as if they'd never been. Further observation might note that in a system that functioned as the beating heart of an interstellar empire, where no one and nothing was left unconnected in some form, this object existed in its own personal bubble of silence and peace.
And to those who knew the truth, all of the above would hardly have been a surprise. Mortals had no place intruding on the affairs of the divine, after all.
---
Several kilometers deep into the asteroid, there was a long processional hallway, decorated with tapestries, covered in jewels and precious things. And at the end of the hall, there was a dais with a perfectly formed crystal sphere sitting on it, glowing from within.
As Faleka's message swept through it, the light spilling from the sphere stuttered, then began strobing and flaring. The asteroid itself began to shudder as the wrath of a god shook spacetime itself in the immediate vicinity. This was beyond all reason. A god slain simply so the mortals could pretend themselves above it all? No. And with that, a single thought rippled in the air.
THIS CANNOT BE BORNE
And with that, all that remained was to find a suitable vessel and answer the summons.
Foremunda System - Unaligned Space
A slight shiver in the breeze was the only indication before reality seemed to flicker, and there was suddenly a woman standing several meters away from Faleka's table. She was tall, but fairly slim, although that detail seemed lost in the intricate silver plate she was wearing. She'd come armed for war, with a polearm of some sorts in her hands, and a plain longsword in a scabbard across her back. But for all that, she was obviously far from ordinary, with light rippling and shimmering around her, almost as if she was producing the light herself.
Smiling slightly, she bowed smoothly to the goddess. "Madam, may I partake of your hospitality?"
Ruminating on the unusual feeling he had just experienced, one apparently unrelated to the sweetroll he was eating, Juan Carlos was intrigued. He preferred to live life under the radar - the showy and ostentatious natures of other powerful beings usually served as their downfall, and spoke of a motivation other than his own pure driving force: curiosity. So when Faleka's message had rung through the aether, it had piqued his interest. The Merger were boring him, as the more he delved the more he realized they were single-minded beasts, no matter how complex their methods, and he needed a new project. This seemed to fit the bill.
The idea of mortals trying to hunt down their betters in a fit of hubris was certainly worth taking a look at. Finishing the fruity sweetroll and sucking on his fingers, he stepped out of an airlock on the crudely-named IJN Hellfire and fell slowly towards the distant planet, eventually accelerating through the atmosphere and landing in a heap. Brushing himself off, he strolled past fallen petals and a bubbling stream towards Faleka and the avatar. Dressed in a simple red kimono with black hems and white embroidery, his sandals crunching with a pleasing noise, the feline humanoid came to a stop without ceremony, a hand resting on the hilt of a hikatana.
"Ah, I see we are already gathering. Buenos dias! I am Colonel la Saña of Ingen, though you may call me Juan" he announced cheerfully, his accent soft and purring as he adopted a more serious tone, his face practically mournful.
"It was most distressing to hear about Urkel. Someone should do something about these hashtag people, yes?
Menmuer meditated within Stella Prime's shell, basking in the photosphere of the yellow dwarf that it encapsulated, his cloak flowing as if in the wind, moved by the scorching currents of plasma. Even after millions of years, it was still a calming experience to be able to just sit and percieve the universe around him, using his sense for his 'domain', seeing layers upon layers of detail in each eddy and granule far beyond what his normal senses could.
His attention was swayed by a sudden message entering his mind, a psionic call for help it seemed. With a smooth intake of breath, a needless gesture given his lack of metabolism, his eyes opened and he rose upward, emerging presently from the inferno as he spent a moment thinking. While he usually didn't concern himself with much of the events in the Ancerious galaxy that didn't directly affect the Ecumene, the fact that a group of normal beings were able to seemingly snuff out a rather powerful being's life with ease was concerning, especially since the same group apparently planned on doing more such executions on other entities. This was precisely the type of threat that he dealt with when it came to the Nuclean interests, and thus, he decided to answer the call.(edited)
It only took a moment to move to the location, his form abruptly becoming fuzzy and out of focus as he adjusted his wavefunction, disappearing from the sector capital and arriving on the planet from which the call had emanated.
Next to Faleka and the others, what appeared to be a Nuclean clothed in nothing but a glistening silver cloak quickly came into focus. He was of respectable height, standing 1.83 meters tall, with soft brown eyes. The being addressed those present in galatic common, with a beautiful flowing accent, while giving a respectful nod to those around him. "Greetings, I am Emperor Menmuer, of the Nuclean Ecumene." After greeting everyone, his eyes focused on Faleka "Might you be the one who has summoned myself, and the others here?"
"That is certainly the question of the day..." A cold voice answered from the far side of the gathering. A man stood where none had been standing before, dressed in dark green silk pajamas and slippers, and covered in a plush green and red striped house robe. He looked like he had been woken up by rowdy kids in the middle of the night as he looked among the gathering with a tired expression marring his otherwise handsome and young features. His messy long brown hair was swept back into a short pony tail leaving only a few strands to dangle over his gaunt, pale, clean shaven face. He was thin, with wide shoulders and stood roughly 7 feet tall, had he been there the whole time there was no way he'd of not been noticed.
"Why did you wake me...do you have any idea how busy and tired Ive been?" The man's eyes flashed a golden, serpentine glare to Faleka as he looked her over. "Consider yourself fortunate you did not attract the others. They would be far less forgiving. Assuming of course, you didnt gain their attention by chance." A cup of what could only be assumed as coffee materialized in the man's long bony fingers and he took a drink from it. His features subtly changed as he drank, becoming more healthy looking and full, younger, stronger, as he seemed to wake up more.
The dreamer's body, formerly the Cerulean Cluster
The message received was not unlike the psionic burst she had release upon her own birth, Though the message it conveyed was significantly more dire.
For the first time since her inception, the Dreamer became aware of its own position in the universe. While it had personally met the being Elwar, the presence of other deities and entities operating within the galaxy has always been a vague notion they had been more or less Irrelevant to the preservation of all things. She recalled a memory, not her own, but the preacher Surafael and the beings of light that wept for all creation that had uplifted the Ceruleans. She felt a strange sense of loss at the death of the alien God. Soon that loss became dread as she realized her own vulnerability, so soon after her creation. In her current state, she had little influence beyond exerting it's will through the Dirge as a medium, though the engineered race provided a versatile medium.
She decided at once to respond to the call, and send a representation of itself. Her previous incarnations had been for diplomacy and grandeur of scale. A small flotilla of heavily armed Dirge craft, along with a constituent unarmed support fleet formed in the wreckage of the abandoned nation they resided, and made the Jump. All the while, within the largest of the Dirge craft the Dreamer meticulously engineered a new Dirge form, taking full advantage of the spices inherit traits, while sequestering a component of it's own ego to empower the Avatar.
Rubikon II
AGA-Occupied Capitol Space
Commissar-Lieutenant Ridhuan stood before the hole in space and time, a void of purplish energies, a tear in the fabric of reality that connected the material and astral.
Rubikon II was still the hellhole he remembered in the days of the 2nd Ancerious War - black skies and streaks of lightning wrecked havoc on the arid wastes below. But now it was hellish in a different way. Gone were explosions, nuclear mushrooms, tanks and guns, replacing them were esoteric anomalies ranging from benign wisps and harmless ghosts to malignant entities, what he theorized to be corrupted gestalts of the dead. At least the lightning storms remained the same, though sometimes they seem to switch to a haunting red for no explicable reason.
The First Sage’s visions brought him here, back to where his worst nightmares lay. In its meditation, it picked up a plea of help and its wisdom has discerned it to be the voices of none other than the fallen of the 45th themselves.
Ridhuan had his suspicions, but being here...hearing the familiar whispers emanating from the tear...feeling them...there was no mistake; these were the souls of his comrades. He and his monks have travelled the barren deserts in their pilgrimage to these hallowed grounds, fighting off all sorts of demonic spirits and monsters along the way. After coming this far, doubt will not stop his blade.
Clear in intention, he summoned all his physical might and psionic mana as he stuck his sword deep into the ground, kneeling as he pooled his thoughts concentrating them in drawing in the souls of the 45th. A bright flash illuminated the stormy night, engulfing Ridhuan in a sea of warm, blinding light.
-------
“Corporal Ridhuan, it’s been a while” his eyes opened to the sight of a familiar figure in uniform.
Lieutenant-Colonel Kazeher. The second-in-command to Gharshall Lein and XO of the 45th Expeditionary Force. Renowned for rising through the ranks all the way from the bottom, he was the father figure of the unit. His life was taken by an Abyssal Golem, the mental despair it emanated was nothing compared to that of the soldiers he considered his sons who saw him being eaten alive.
“Lieutenant-Colonel sir…” Ridhuan saluted. “We heard your call, sir. What do we need to do to break you all out of this prison?”
“Prison?” Kazeher asked, puzzled by his choice of words. “Well, I guess being trapped on the battlefield you died on is a prison in itself, though I don’t certainly see it that way…”
“Sir?”
“We brought you here because we do indeed need help, but not to break free from this place no, there is a greater threat out there. Even stuck here, we are still able to observe the galaxy from the astral plane. And I bear grave tidings.”
Kazeher played the Faleka’s message about a group of mortals killing a god. “A force powerful enough to kill a god. Such a force can destroy the balance of the universe itself. Who knows if one day this force would come and threaten the Republik?”
“Sir, so you want me to take on these...god-killers?”
“Not just you my friend,” Kazeher motioned Ridhuan to follow him up the stairs.
----
Ridhuan’s eyes widened at the sight. The familiar tune of drums echoed throughout the land as a million soldiers in combat gear marched into formation, along with tanks, APCs and howitzers that had been deployed in the Battle of Rubikon II. Strike fighters and dropships that had once been downed by neutron bombardments and Capitol AA flew overhead, their engines screaming through thunder and lightning of the skies. The wastes of Rubikon II were their parade ground, once all 1 million or so soldiers were in view they stopped and presented their arms to Ridhuan and Kazeher.
“All of us are in this together.”
The Colours of the 45th was marched all the way to the front and was presented to Ridhuan. He stood in awe of its insignia, a tiger superimposed on a white shield in a sea of orange, an insignia long forgotten by those who deemed the 45th as extinct.
“You will be our Champion, our powers shall flow through you,” Kazeher said as a glowing mark appeared on Ridhuan’s hands, the marks revealing themselves to the very insignia of the 45th.
“Wield us as your weapon. Wield us as your army. Wield us against those who would threaten the Republik.”
----
A small wormhole opened up to where Faleka had chosen to meet those that answered her call to arms. Ridhuan emerged from the wormhole in a brief flash of bright light, before he fell down on his knees, disorientated from the journey throughout space and time.
He felt a new found power coursing his veins. As he stood up, he could sense many of those assembled here were beings of power, equal or even perhaps superior to his own.
“A fair share of the galaxy’s finest have assembled, I see,” a voice mused as an almost-lanky young man, clean-shaven and sporting a soft yet mischievous grin materialized from thin air next to many others. Sporting some sort of relatively simple mobile wear of indeterminable origin, he floated just off the surface of the ground, where he seemed to be content to hover with a few items in his orbit; a glaive of glistening, exotic bronze, a grimoire thrumming with arcane energy, and a Puppeteer datapad that, as of current, floated just before him to read.
But a mere glance into this avatar’s eyes betray a different story. Unfathomable depths, innumerable calculations and an eternal hunger for input. A being that surpassed the annals of conventional history, who has been, is currently, and perhaps shall forever be.
“Osten, at your service, ma’am.”
Avrel-Naret was in his Bondrealm, the small personal dimensional alignment each Harvester or Battlefortress Bondpartner possessed. Pale shadows of the mighty realms found in Nelyssa or Makel'va's ancient vessels, the Bondrealm nonetheless offered Avrel-Naret a place to be alone to contemplate things-philosophies, situations, and actions alike,
All three of those things had come into play with the recent events at Decoroso. There had been so much death.... and yet so much new life. He recalled the oath all those who commanded Harvester ships had taken; "One Death, One Life". It had been there since the early days, despite or perhaps because of the actions of such notables as Xe'Metiel the Reaper, Nathrael the Angel of Death, and Naelle-L'Thren the Snow Wraith during the days of Eternal Night's Phoenix Program. "From Death we bring Life" Lord Midnight had said. Strangely but unexpectedly things did not go like Midnight had intended,,,
He had known that the events that were going to happen at the climax of the Dectrose War were going to be both trying and unusual. And he was not disappointed. His Harvester Protocore had just been mated to it's Lyrium matrix, indeed the Protocore itself was newly formed. Formerly the commander of a Scintillator, he had been asked by Blessed Laenas herself to take on this assignment in the wake of the destruction of Kaikoma by the Shade-possessed Annointed Archon, Skalia.(edited)
Laenas had wanted to return Skalia to her pre-Shade condition, which was only possible because Laenas had met Skalia at an AGA meeting long ago, before the Crucible, before the Zaingraf Incursion, before all the pain... By returning Skalia Laenas had actually meant resurrect Skalia, as her gestalt souls had been mostly destroyed or dissipated when the Red Letter Day Soldier had stabbed her with a weapon much akin to a Singers' Nightblade. The problem was twofold. Firstly Skalia was like all Annointed a gestalt consciousness of millions if not billions of souls and soul fragments, the second part was of course, "One Death, One Life". That philosophy had shown its grim truth at Decoroso. His Harvester had gone from it's newly "Hatched" state to Stage 3 in an instant in the cataclysmic flood of life energy released in the battle between Laenas and the Shade-possessed Skalia. He had fulfilled his oath though, regardless of the cost.
Should a Reaper feel regret? he thought, before thinking Of course, lest we become monsters... Still, it is a rough road we all walk...
There was a ripple in the realm's brane alignments and matrixes. A message, a resonance message. It was not a carrier for psychometric or spiritual attack-the wardings had sensed it and let it though. Avrel-Naret sensed Faleka's call and realised it's implications. This is something I cannot take independent action on, I must inform Lae- As he thought this the "air" of the realm shimmered and two female forms manifested. Blonde women of incomparable beauty, one he recognized instantly as Blessed Laenas. The other he realised with a bit of shock and even apprehension was Skalia, The two stood together, their arms around each other's waists.(edited)
Don't ask, don't tell... a part of his multidimensional mind quickly thought.
"Blessed Laenas, Archon Skalia, it is a great honor. I presume this is about the Resonance from Faleka?" he said softly, still unused to his now multiresonant voice. So much had changed... "Indeed." Laenas said. "I would ask you another favor, Avrel-Naret. Go and speak with this Faleka. See what she has to say. An invitation from a being of this magnitude deserves both tact and yet prompt attention. You can be my Herald in this matter."
"Herald?" he said, knowing the cultural and other implications of the term. "For this mission... but perhaps also in the future as a formal position." Laenas said, smiling. "After all the three of us share a bond because of our recent---convergence." As Avrel-Naret thought of the term convergence he looked at Laenas and Skalia, odd but understandable thoughts filling his mind which he quickly squelched. As Nathrael himself had once said "Things of the flesh" thought none of those present was truly comprised of it,
Skalia walked over to Avrel-Naret and held him close for a second. "I also wished to thank you for helping in my resurrection. The Archon could see and feel what Avrel-Naret was likely thinking, with a mix of intuition and the subconscious resonance the three of them would share now and forever. She then broke the brief embrace and returned to Laenas, The two of them spoke together-not the perfect synchronized voice of the Anais Twins, but a level that those who shared something special had. "Go now, give our regards to Faleka, and see what her motivations are." They then phased out in an intertwined cloud of nanites and calabi-yau manifolds.
"Were they ki..." he said before thinking Sometimes the greatest wisdom is knowing when to shut the fuck up.
Avrel-Naret and his Harvester phased quickly to the Xullis system. Once there his hypersense could sense the presence of....multiple entities. My first foray into Nth-Dimensional diplomacy he thought before sending an identification communiqué to system traffic control and then phase shifting to the area where Faleka and the others were physically present.
The air shimmered near the assembled group. Avrel-Naret's physical form manifested, a beautiful androgynous form roughly 2 meters tall, with wisps of black and amber energy surrounding him. He had platinum blond hair reaching straight down his back to his waist, and for a traditional Naacal robe worn by the people of Mu, a silk like thing that showed his form yet concealed any hint of immodestly. His eyes-pools of black with flickering dark amber flames visible inside, regarded the group before he spoke.
"Greeting to you all, My name is Avrel-Naret, ambassador from Blessed Laenas, ruler commander of the Anais Unity's forces and peoples in Ancerious. I bring you all greetings on behalf of the Anais Unity and have come in answer to Faleka's resonance."
So many assembled in one place.
Truth be told however, Faleka had expected more. But then that was rather naive, many of the beings she had encountered in the galaxy were arrogant. Assured in some way of their power and untouchable nature, to them there was no threat, and they could never be affected by happenings on the mortal realm. She wasn’t surprised that they did not care, but it was also ironic to her, a man did not pay attention to ants until they were already swarming all over him.
As the various guests appeared, some conventionally and some less so Faleka gestured for them all to take a seat at the large round intricate metal table she sat at. Holding up her thin hand she gestured for the various pieces of the tea set to move over to each space before pouring some tea into her own cup only for tea to appear in every cup.
“Please, sit, have some tea. You are all welcome here.” Her voice, rather than her psionic voice, was kind and almost entrancing. Faleka was known across the galaxy for being a wanderer, one who brings guidance unbidden in dark times. She even had a following, believers who worshipped her. But she was one of many gods and beings in the galaxy, many of which were now since unknown or now sought to blend in.
“As to your questions, yes I am the one who summoned you all here. My name is Faleka, and I have brought you all here because of two reasons. The first is that while beings like us exist in this realm, we are divided, and divided we are weak. The second is because of that very reason, one of our kind. A deity if you will, Arkol, was murdered by barbarians all for the sole purpose of making a social and political statement. Arkol was a gentle soul, he was a gardener who cultivated civilisations and he had never used his power once in anger within the galaxy as long as I had known him. The Limawa peoples, his pride and joy were also reduced to non-sentient creatures in the process, just before Arkol was killed.” She sighed.
“The group belonged to the movement known as ‘#IMAGO’ no doubt many of you will have heard of them. The problem is, this particular ensemble is led by an ex Götterdämmerung order individual. Now they, I am positive you have heard of, they try hunt us down actively but they are simple individuals and they are honourable in their actions. While they are a threat to all, they do not lash out within reason and they never make a kill a public political statement. The individual in question as I have found out is Remus Dragalina, as I said he was once in the order before he was rather unceremoniously expelled. He and his ensemble are our target, along with one other unknown”
La Saña stroked his whiskers in contemplation. In truth, he had vaguely felt the psychic torment of the Limawa as their sapience was stripped, and the rage, fury and misery of Arkol as he fought his final battle. He had not understood what he was witnessing, but then Faleka's call had made all clear.
Someone had figured out how to kill a god. He had seen it done before, but never by normies, and this new development represented both a danger and an opportunity. Change was everything, and he thrived on it. He spoke into the silence that followed Faleka's explanation.
"So unfortunate that thinking beings feel driven to such cruel and senseless acts. You are right, we must band together to stop this evil."
He took a seat, his hikatana clattering, and leaned his elbows on the ornate table.
"But I am thinking, this Urkel was very powerful, no? As they say, he was filled with beans. So if he was such a god, able to uplift an entire species just with a wink of the eye, then how did these mortals manage to overpower him?"
The man in the green robe had chosen to recline in his seat with his slippered feet resting on the table as he drank his previously summoned drink, openly refusing to partake in the tea offered to him by his host. His head was buried in his shoulders and wrapped around by his robe's cushioned lining as his eyes scanned everyone over. He had intentionally not introduced himself, not out of fear nor pride but out of indifference. He was clearly used to being around other deities or similarly powered beings. He looked more alive now than when he first appeared, he seemed to take up more space as his revitalized appearance had gained muscle and a youthful air about him, improving the longer he was there.
The man began to yawn, though his mouth continued to open. From ear to ear he opened a bestial maw filled with dozens of large and razor sharp teeth with not a space between them. A pair of long serpentine fangs individually flexed from their sockets from being tucked away behind his gums. As the yawn ended his face had quickly returned to normal, his human form was nothing more than a mask worn by something greater.
" This 'Arkol' was no threat you say? Was he native to this cramped little galaxy? He certainly put all of his eggs in one basket..." The man commented calmly as he took a drink from his mug. "This is certainly an interesting turn of events, though it is not uncommon to my pantheon. These mortals are still victim to hubris."
At Faleka's invitation, Menmuer had carefully walked to the table and taken a seat, giving off no aura of power nor other little sign that he was anything more than an ordinary mortal, apart from the manner in which he had arrived. He grasped the offered cup of tea, taking in the details of its contents in an instant, before taking a small sip as the others spoke. Deciding it needed something extra, a scone appeared in his hand, which he quietly took a bite of, enjoying the pleasant taste.
I'm not sure how honorable a group organized around killing innocent sentient entities for sport or to make a statement can be... he mused internally, listening to Faleka's explanation of the situation and the others' responses to it. Menmuer wasn't very acquainted with either #IMAGO or Götterdämmerungsorder, as that was more of Minister Tiicelebria's field. However from what he had gotten thus far, it still seemed a surprise that they were able to take on a being so powerful as Arkol had been.
After the unnamed being had commented, Menmuer finally took a turn to speak. "Regardless of it being hubris or not, the more important aspect is that this group has succeeded, and I share Colonel la Sana's desire to know just how this was accomplished, as well as what sort of other resources this group might be able to access, as that will tell us the severity of the threat."
The Dreamers body was created in a half second whilst Falka spoke, With her internal physiology complete, all that was required was to establish the Final link. The fragment of power propagated throughout the Dirge, opening a direct link with the Dreamer, creating an artificially induced avatar. A wave of psionic energy supercharged the natural properties of the body she was inhabiting, transforming the tumultuous sphere of biomatter into the form of the Dreamer. She was relatively humanoid with pearlescent porcelain flesh interspersed with red patterns that constantly shifted. She was a humanoid entity with feminine features, roughly dozen arms, with two spry legs.
Shifting directly from her previous form to this one required little more than a thought. She placed an open palm upon the offered mug, and created a small vaccum within, ingesting the hot liquid directly through her hand,
“We have memories of another being, very similar to Arkol. His loss was... painful to us. To watch such an event transpire in such a... mundane way, as though he were little more than an animal to slaughter, made the act all the worse.”
Though the face did not change, the notes of disgust within the Dreamer's voice were apparent
Ridhuan sat down and listened to gods talk, in silence. The only gods he knew were those of human religions back home, gods which seemingly only exist in scriptures and worshipped through pure faith alone, despite their followers having neither seen, heard or felt their deities. These beings may not be truly ‘gods’, given the tenets of his own religion that had him believe in one unseen supreme god, but nevertheless, they are powerful beings like no other. Being marked by the 45th only served to heightened his awareness of such fact, since now he can roughly feel the power emanating from them. Despite the ascension to Champion, he still felt pretty human. At least the tea was something familiar to him, such a drink was a staple during his time in the Sangha’s temples.
There was nothing he could ask Faleka now, La Sana already asked the most obvious question that came after her explanation of the events - how could the god-killers achieve such a feat? He sat there, eyes closed as he sipped the tea patiently, waiting for Faleka’s answer.
Osten floated forwards, taking his seat amongst the others as the teacup floated up to join his datapad as he reached out to take a hold of the chinaware to take a sip of tea.
Götterdämmerung, an order that hunts the divine and those who might try to lord over sentients. No tolerance for defeat, it was the Spartan way--to come home with your shield, or atop it in death. No wonder this Arkol fell, this order was the real deal. So a fragment of his self began to dive into the Ancnet for answers. Staying far away from the Götterdämmerung and White Maginot encrypted databanks, there was little point drawing attention while their quarry was one of their disgraced. Who was this Remus Dragalina?
“This was not random. #IMAGO may be the brute muscle for this act, those shallow terrorists could not have conceived the means to have killed him… but then, why is an ex-Götterdämmerung member leading them? Is he trying to reclaim his lost honor? Continue his crusade?” Osten spoke up even as he searched the vast archives of the Ancnet.
“Götterdämmerung kills our kind on the regular, their armory must be filled with tools designed to bring us down low for the killing strike and it’s not even unlikely that their former member still possesses one or more of their tools. Just as important as the method he had used, we need to know if they have a next target, and who it may be. To that, I would like to ask ma’am, is where we can start searching for answers. Perhaps where Arkol himself was formerly based upon, where the once-Limawa lived? They cannot be allowed to continue on the offensive.”
Avrel-Naret listened to what Osten had to say, occasionally nodding slightly. His energy aura flickered as he thought of what needed to be said. "There is something that occurs to me. We are currently under the assumption that the presumed assassin is continuing his work that he did as a member of his former Order. But what if he is being used as a tool?"
He waited for a moment to emphasize his point then continued. "One of the greatest enemies being such as us have are others of our level. What if #IMAGO were hired by someone or something else? Or perhaps psychologically manipulated. Fanatics are often easy to steer along a path that coincides with their own beliefs. The irony for a being of our level to turn a group that hates what they are into a tool and puppet would be epically delightful."
"But whether they acted on their own or as unwitting agents of another, something needs to be done about this threat."
The woman set her pole arm aside and unlimbered the sword, setting it down with her other weapon before taking a seat at the table. As she listened to the others, her face became drawn in thought. A flicker of alarm could be seen as Avrel voiced his concerns.
Once the other being had finished speaking, she took a sip of tea and savored the rich flavor for a moment before clearing her throat.
"It would seem to me," she said, "That while your point about these mortals being pawns has merit, it is still secondary to the more immediate threat posed by #IMAGO. Further, I personally find them repugnant and a threat to galactic stability. Not to mention, it may well be that we uncover information about any potential puppet masters while we remove their pawns."
Her eyes burned with a fire that shimmered white and gold for a moment. "Nevertheless, I maintain that our first priority should be ensuring our security by destroying the scum who murdered Arkol, root and branch!"
Faleka took a sip of tea before turning to La Sana and replying.
“He was indeed powerful, but Arkol was not a militant being, he was never one for fighting. It is a likely case that he lost much of his power when the Limawa were regressed and that he was blinded by hatred, but my thought is that Remus had some kind of help. He was definitely no threat, and as far as I could tell he was a native however I do not of his origins for one day he merely came out of the Expanse.” She narrowed her eyes at the yawning man “And who might you be?” She added on, despite having her own suspicions. Before turning to answer the next question.
“As far as I am aware this is a self-acting group inside of #IMAGO but that just makes it all the more suspicious, It means they should have less resources not more. It is why Remus ability to enact this kill confuses me.” She paused before continuing to address Osten next “He is most certainly looking to reclaim his honour, and re-join the order. While it is true he may have several objects which can bring us harm he personally lost some of those objects that were trusted to him. I know Remus, I know the reason he was expelled by the order, and you see if you are given a target by the order they expect an honourable fight. A duel to the death, either you come back with the head of the being or you die trying. Remus failed his mission, and he ran, the god that he was sent to kill was me. I made the mistake of letting him live, and now it has come back to haunt me” She sighed.
“As for someone behind Remus pulling the strings I do not doubt it. However those are questions we may have to uncover as we go. First we need to look for answers, indeed travelling to the Limawa peoples home may yield fruit, but I did some digging before this meeting. The signal that Remus used to broadcast across the galaxy was routed through a VPN on Lost Star, inside the House of Asterion. However for note, anyone who wishes to pursue that lead must be able to resist extreme temperatures, extreme pressures and being able to breath super-heated water” She smiled “I just check, after all I don’t know your limits yet”
Menmuer continued drinking his tea while listening to Faleka, dipping his scone in it occasionally as he finished polishing it off, leaving what would have been a suspicious lack of crumbs from the ordeal, had he not been at a meeting of powerful beings.
He considered Faleka's hypothesis concerning Arkol being weakened and therefore becoming vulnerable to this Remus, turning it over and finding it solid. After all, there were myriad sources of power depending on one's origin, and this could lead to some unpleasant endings if one's enemies knew how to exploit the limitations of such. It made him grateful that he was fortunate enough to be more intrinsically based, as it had likely preventing the Spinehk from undoing him many times during their various conflicts.
"I can travel to Asterion to investigate the VPN" he said after Faleka had finished, thinking that this would be a good opportunity to become more acquainted with Lost Star and the galaxy as a whole. "But I would also like to know more about the items that Remus may have which can threaten us."
“I can follow Muenmer to Asterion. I’m somehow quite certain a psionic bubble can protect me from the elements. That, and I can summon spirits to scout out areas and distract enemies,” Ridhuan spoke up. The thoughts of the 45th are slowly starting to meld with his own, that was why he was starting to be more aware of what his powers can accomplish despite never having used them before.
La Saña was distracted by a faint beep on his holo. A newly arrived JIAN report indicated that the Gauss warship had been discovered, surrounded by destroyed Merger vessels, but with no sign of the Princess. At least not alive. He nodded to himself in satisfaction, then glanced back up to catch Ridhuan offering his assistance to Muenmer.
"Well, that leaves the Limawa people. I can go and visit them for you, although I do not know how much sense they will make after their brains have been turned into the tamale."
He stood and stretched, not having touched the tea. "Perhaps I will find some trinkets, something to tell us what marvels #IMAGO used to kill our good friend Arkham."
“Perhaps you are too quick to pull the proverbial trigger Muenmar, This Remus is Arrogant, but confident. To commit such an act in such a public manner must mean that he has many methods with which to bring us low. “
She turned to face La Sana,
“We would like to accompany you to visit the Limwa, if you will have me. We are capable of assimilating individuals in their totality. Conciousness, genome, memories. Everything. Perhaps some information of the process involved could be gleaned. We believe the consumption of a few pre-sentients will be acceptalbe. What i am most interested in however, is if in Arkol left any trace of his presence. A corpse if you will, though We know such a thing is unlikely for a being of his nature”
The robed man looked at Faleka and locked eyes with her after her question. His eyes were golden and serpentine with red rings around his irises, a sharp intimidating and predatory gaze, but he remained silent as the others replied, still reclining in his chair, though now he seemed fully awake and with that his form was now youthful, healthy, and strong. She had to of known what her call across the galaxy would ultimately summon; that it only summoned this single specific "man" to be physically present was in truth an incredibly fortunate outcome whether she or the others knew or not. The air around him was smothering, binding, like an unseen coil wrapped around the very soul, but he physically gave off no intention to harm anyone present. He was calm and passive, happily listening to everyone's conversation for his turn to speak.
"My name is 'Jasetrethes'" He answered Faleka's question calmly. "though you've probably never heard that name uttered in this galaxy before. No, the name Im known by these days is hardly my own, yet you may be more familiar with it. You may call me 'Jormundgand'".
“The House of Asterion… a tempting endeavor, but unfortunately, this vessel of mine would be too fragile for such extremes, at least without preparations that would stall our efforts for too long,” the man spoke as he finished his tea, the only other sound being the clattering as chinaware was set upon chinaware.
“I shall accompany my peers to the once-Limawa, if there are no objections.”
The woman grimaced as the others spoke amongst themselves. "While I disagree with this council's refusal to assault #IMAGO directly, I am not willing to risk our plans by launching an attack by myself. As a being of fire, I will accompany the expedition to Lost Star and the House of Asterion if that is fine with all of you."
Having said that, she leaned back, crossing her arms and proceeding to glower in sullen silence.
"I too share the belief that direct confrontation may not be the best way to go about this. After all besides the potential of being a trap, we will be dealing with the presumptive enemy on their home ground. For a number of reasons that I am sure you all recognize this is not the best idea." Avrel-Naret said to those gathered in the room.
"That being said, it would be self-serving at best, and cowardice t worst to watch you go off and not assist, and though as I mentioned my normal method of protecting myself from the environment would be too... conspicuous, the Aenyrre Argallenn do provide a solution to the dilemma."
Avrel-Naret concentrated, and the air around him shimmered. His clothing shifted, becoming a skintight black bodystocking-like garment. Small crystals glowed for a second at the neck, wrists, and ankles. Upon his head was a narrow black and gold circlet, and what appeared to be a gold filigreed hair net covered his hair. Small amber crystals likewise were worked into the thin chains.
"This should provide me with protection from both the environment and attacks of many types....oddly more effective the more exotic the attack form is." Around his waist were slung a sheathed Nightblade and a holstered NFD pistol, "Weapons will unfortunately likely be needed as well, and would prefer to bring some means of attack not directly linked to my salient abilities. With all that out of the way I am ready to depart with the rest of you, but we should all remember one thing,,,
"Things may well not be what we expect."
“I myself will be travelling to Asterion. As for the weapons Remus has available to him those that I still know he has and didn’t lose are likely three in number. He firstly uses a strange whip made out of some kind of anti-energy substance like nothing I’ve seen before, likely some ancient design it will drain you and incapacitate you if it touches you. The mans an eccentric but the whip is his pride and joy. The second is a suit of Nightstone which has within its pieces an extremely intricate anti mandala so that many attacks will have little effect on him unless you fight directly. The last is a strange small gem which he acquired somehow which allows him to almost manipulate the fundamental forces in a short distance around himself. I am sure he still has these items, but Arkol should have been more than aware and capable of defeating him with them” She rubbed her chin before finishing her tea.
“Either way those of you who travel to the Limawa peoples we need to know how they regressed Arkols people. I have my theories but we require proof, also find anything that could indicate how Remus killed him, we will need everything we can get in order to finish this.”
Faleka stood up then brushing down her dress and making sure it was nicely padded out. With a small gesture space-time seemed to contort into two knots just ahead of the table, the unmistakable forms of wormholes appearing to form.
“I have taken the liberty for any of you here who cannot easily traverse the distance. I wish those of you going to Arkols tomb good luck, please pay my respects there” She smiled.
House of Asterion: Lost Star
The wormhole had specifically designed not to let the huge amounts of water beyond rush into their idyllic set up that they had come from. Good thing too as the heat, pressure and overbearingness of the surroundings was practically instant. This was the House of Asterion, and it was nothing like most thought it was.
It was dark, extremely dark. The heat was immense and columns of bubbles rose through the darkness as water rippled from the heat of the ocean floor upon which they now found themselves. Only it wasn’t an ocean floor at all, it was a bio mechanical server wrack. The entirety of Asterion was one giant server farm and the huge ocean which sat atop it was there for cooling. The only light nearby came from a sinister orange glow as a canyon of molten salt for cooling purposes wound its way through numerous data stores. All around Fellstavn and Vasitiu maintainers went about their work uncaring of the sudden arrivals, making tweaks or performing maintenance tasks. Their bio luminescence also making them stand out in the pitch black boiling dark.
Falekas dress hung heavy as it soaked with water but the women didn’t seem fazed. She smiled, talking psionically to those who had come with her.
“Welcome to Asterion, or the heart of Asterion. Here this way” She pointed through the darkness towards a large jut of bio-mechanical plastic being attended to by Vasitiu and strange organic tubular worms which clustered around the outcrop as it bellowed heat like an oceanic deep sea smoker.
Xullis System: Ex Limawa Space
Almost as a direct opposite to the conditions deep within Asterion the crowded and extremely dry old city that the group arrived in was almost totally dead and devoid of life. It had been nearly a month since Arkols death directly and the Limawa space, now bereft of its guardian had been ransacked by those pirates and forces who had sought to make a quick credit.
The wind howled in the small street that they stood, sand and grit in the air with almost no moisture as the planets star shone down upon the city. The silver spires that the Limawa had been known for reflected the sun to create beautiful dancing lights that moved with the day but they now seemed hollow, like their soul was gone and that they were only a hollow shell. Given that this city seemed deserted it was very well the case, this had been the capital of the Limawa peoples and home to Arkol himself and yet there wasn’t a soul in sight. But for those who could sense life forms there were plenty nearby and not all were of the same species.
Still Arkols home had been at the centre of the city, a place held in great reverence. The one good thing was that there was no bodies, which made sense, the Limawa hadn’t been exterminated only devolved into what they had been before the uplift. The city held nothing for them now, no grazing opportunities or watering holes just a maze of structures which they could no longer use.
While the howling wind was clearly the only active thing meeting the group the sound of far off jet engines also was apparent. They were not the only ones present it seemed.
Menmuer noted the items as Faleka described them, expecting the obvious possibility that Remus had another item or some other unknown method for dealing with entities such as Arkol. He was quite curious, as the items in question, while impressive, shouldn't have been a threat to someone of sufficient power, unless of course they were psionic.
As Faleka stood up and created her wormholes, Menmuer put his musings aside, deciding to deal with them further when he had more information. Standing, he walked towards the wormhole to Asterion that Faleka had made, following her through into the boiling water beyond, adjusting his buoyancy to be neutral. As he floated in the scalding liquid, he glanced around at the others who accompanied him, while taking in the whole ocean around them with his sense, looking for possible threats as he appreciated both the scenery around them with a neutral smile.
Following Faleka's gesture, he straightened his arms and legs out into a diving position, while manipulating the water around him into exerting directional pressure on his body, quickly propelling him forward towards the plastic outcropping. He lacked the ability to respond to the female entity's message, instead sending a narrow beam of sound at her head, powerful enough to transmit his words but nowhere near even to even try to cause damage "Do you know of anyone who might take offense to our being here?"
XULLIS SYSTEM
La Saña had negotiated the wreckage of the Xullis system, ships, stations and satellites gutted of valuables and left to float as broken debris above a planet newly restored to a primal state. The sensors aboard the aging Hellfire, which had been an Arcadian piece of junk even when new, had been able to tell him they were not alone, but not much more.
Now, his boots crunching on the gritty pavement of what had once been a gleaming city as they walked towards Arkol's former residence, he smiled. Barely a month had gone by and already the wild was reclaiming the city, a few hardy plants winding through cracks and climbing up towers, the occasional animal roaming freely where once there had been busy, industrious citizens. The brutal forces of Xullis were already grinding away all trace of Arkol and his works...
La Saña concentrated. An adept user of matjushi-shu, trained many years ago in the temples of New Paraguay, he reached out slyly, feeling for more details on the distant life forms. Outwardly, he seemed nonchalant, strolling in his new outfit, black leather boots, brown trousers and a bright yellow ruffled shirt beneath a black leather jacket, a broad brimmed hat jaunty on his head.
"Such a beautiful city. Such a shame! How barbaric, to cast down a whole species just to prove a point. What monster would do such a thing?" he mused aloud
The small Dirge fleet, and the Dreamer's bioform latched onto the largest of the craft followed la Sana. The Dreamer departed several minutes after la sana had arrived, allowing him to take the lead while the small Dirge force remained in low orbit above the city.
As she touched down, and the reverberations of jet craft sounded throughout the skeleton of a city, the dirge fleet orbiting overhead spread out, while adjusting their physiology to become hyper specialised in motion tracking, radiation and heat emissions, as well as an immensely powerful set of ocular lobes that allow telescopic vision throughout the horizon.
In response to La Sana's musings the dreamer offered her own retort,
“A man with a complete disregard for life”
While the fleet scattered overhead, the Dreamers form became planted in place, and began to partially fuse with the ground as she focused her perception through her 3 sensor craft. While the other deities explored the city, she would support them from here.
Ridhuan followed Menmeur closely behind, encased in a bubble of protective plasma created by his psionic powers as the scenery transitioned into that of the magnificent ocean servers of Asterion. Through means unknown, he was breathing normally, he himself speculated that the gestalt was keeping his body alive. The bubble itself perhaps was acting as a membrane, an unconscious filter where air was extracted from the raw seawater all around him. Ridhuan wished he could stare more in awe at the very heart of the Ancnet itself, but his soldierly instincts dragged him back from the depths of his long forgotten imaginative past.
"I'm dispatching a few spirits to scout out ahead," Ridhuan extended a hand out. From his Mark, five wisp-like orbs emerged. As they traveled through the water, they morphed into shapes of the local sealife to blend in.
Subtly and unknown to both groups, Jormundgand had simultaneously joined each party, though when was not sure as he did not take the provided transportation the others had used, simply appearing where he needed to be. Both instances of the draconian were identical but did not reflect each others actions. They were both the same irritated looking man in pajamas as before who silently took in his surroundings as the others moved on to their respective missions.
The only action both entities took in both settings that was even remotely identical was holding out their palms to allow several drops of black liquid drop to the ground. The drops only briefly pooled before quickly disappearing into whatever surface they had landed on as each Jormundgand rejoined the other deities and entities
The portal flickered as the woman passed through it, a nimbus of faint light shimmering into place around her. Perhaps it was merely a mirage, but her eyes seemed to burn from within, something unfathomable and inhuman looking out from within.
A slight curl of her hand had a swirling current of water pulling her along towards Faleka even as she swapped the polearm over to her other hand. Alighting smoothly next to her fellow divinity, she looked out towards the server stacks.
"Where do we begin?"
“Yet another race to add to the list, but perhaps they may have records to keep yet,” Osten mused in voice even as his body materialized alongside his peers in Xullis with no care as to what he had just done. All but his halberd had disappeared though, as his focus was on the task at hand, listening in on the ambience of others who had come to scrounge what they could from what was left.
“Perhaps, we should start at Arkol’s former residence? There may be clues yet that the scavengers have yet to collect, or have little care for,” the floating man offered.
Avrel-Naret passed through the portal shortly after Ridhuan. He thought i t more prudent to minimize the level of transdimensional displacement events to confuse potential hostile observers. The borders of the environment around his physical form showed a slight distortion from the phase barrier his battlesuit projected around him to prevent environmental damage, He looked around at the "Ocean" and smiled. "I hope they at least have fish, just wouldn't be the same without them." he said with a chuckle.
Noting Ridhuan's summoning of the spirit essences, he said "That's actually a good idea." Concentrating, he manifested what looked like 4 small fish from his fold storage. Then wisps of blue light came from his eyes and infused the fish, which came to "life" and then swam off, each in a different direction. "There are perks to commanding a Harvester it seems... In any case those will scout ahead as well and also contain technological and technomantic systemry that may be able to gather ELINT on our opponents-Never underestimate the Power of Fish." he said, smiling,
House of Asterion: Lost Star
The muffled sound of Asterion was palpable as the group made their way through water that shimmered in its own heat haze practically near to boiling point. The heat was immense, down here the server stacks ran at full power while the natural ocean method of cooling circulated water and heat to the surface through simple convection currents. Asterion was like a typical ocean, it had stratas each with its own tailored and engineered wildlife, but down here it was the most extreme. Bubbles continued to rise as the gathering neared their destination, Faleka pointing ahead to answer the High Imperium women.
It was a large outcrop, at least 5 stories tall made of congealed and melted super plastics, formed into the shape of a deep sea smoker black thick smoke poured from openings in its form. The smoke had traces of heavy metals and salts, likely excess gasses from the deeper molten salt and metal cooling systems which ran below the surface in the most intense parts of the servers. Tubular worms, or at least, imitations of them crowded the artificial smoker, each one biting at the smoke to clear it of the harmful substances which erupted outwards and ensuring that the outflow of harmful substances did not taint the ocean around it. They were engineered cleaners it seemed. As they reached the smoker the scouting spirits and fish summoned by Avrel-Naret and Ridhuan spread out, searching the area beyond which glowed orange. Just ahead of the smoker was a large canyon, dropping down into the server abyss and with a river of molten metal running through it. Plenty of Fellstavn and Vasitiu scuttled about slowly around the canyon, tending to various maintenance needs. Other than those of the sea floor, they had not yet seen any other Asterion denizen.
To Menmuers comment Faleka seemed to smile.
“I can think of plenty, come” She beckoned them to move. They were heading for the canyon and its myriad of life signs and energy readings. But one stood out, somewhere beyond the canyon something truly gargantuan lurked.
Xullis System: Ex Limawa Space
With the Dirge and La Sanas vessels in orbit, it was very much clear they were not alone. There were 7 other vessels in orbit, each belonging to the same species. The Bolosan Scavengers. Known for their casual disregard of both life and themselves the species mechanically mutilated themselves to improve and scavenged anything they could. They were galactic bottom feeders, scum who cared only for the next scraps. And it seemed they were here on this planet in force.
The sound of engines surrounding the party were from several dropships which circled the area several blocks beyond their own, and they had for now not noticed the rather powerful arrivals. Still the wind howled through the deserted streets as if some final moan of mourning from the city itself. The main thoroughfare was the quickest way to Arkols residence, it was lined with beautiful silver statues which already seemed to have started to abrade in the sandy environment and whipping winds. The mosaic patterns upon which they now crunched too had begun to be piled up with sand and the city now seemed to take on a dull yellowy orange glow from its spires. The sun was setting and while it still looked beautiful as it glinted from the spires this place was a shell.
As they continued down towards Arkols residence things began to change. There were blackened scorchmarks, twisted and distended segments of buildings or the ground which appeared like they had rebelled against physics and there were huge gouged out craters. The damage only became more prominent the closer they got, what had once been an idyllic square in the centre of the city ringed with a garden and with a humble small residence which had been Arkols home, now existed as a blackened site of ruin. Like some atomic detonation had occurred here in ground zero, even the buildings around the area looked near totally destroyed or half collapsed. The apocalyptic final fight of Arkol had happened on this very spot.
La Saña sniffed in annoyance. There was little left in evidence at the site of the battle, although clearly great energies had been expended in the fight. He closed his eyes and reached out, searching for traces of psionic or otherworldly energy, any clue as to what had happened here. The wind picked up, ruffling his shirt and pants, whipping the feather in his hat back and forth.
After a moment he opened one yellow eye and cast a leery gaze at the dropships nearby. "Tch. Pests. Perhaps we should go see what sweetmeats they have discovered, and take them for ourselves. Maybe there will be clues there."
“Champion Ridhuan, possible contact. Big. Just beyond the canyon,” one of the spirits reported. “What are your orders?”
“Hold,” he replied, turning to Avrel-Naret. He had heard of the Singers from their involvement with the AGA in the 2AW, but had never seen or heard much about one until now.
“Avrel-Naret, right? My spirits picked something big just beyond the canyon. Have your fishes detected anything unusual?”
Avrel-Naret looked to Ridhuan and then his eyes glowed a brighter amber in the middle of the blackness. "Aye... Essence fish 3 is reporting a large energy contact. Just beyond this canyon, possible metaphasic variance. I wonder though..." he said to Ridhuan as his eye-glow went back to its normal level.
"Should we send the Essence Fish and Spirits in for a closer exam> Whatever this is it is of a magnitude that it may well be able to detect them. Worse, it may be able to track the spiritual connection back to us. We just hve to balance the risk of exposure to the danger resulting from a lack of tactical intel."
Osten had begun his work too, near Arkol’s residence and where he stood his last. Reaching out with invisible tendrils of his own energies, the man sought to analyze the scene for what had transpired. The fabric of reality had been warped and distorted in this battle, and the ancient being sought to unravel Arkol’s former capabilities and, perhaps, a clue as to what had forced such an entity to his knees to behead.
He only casted a glance at the interlopers on the planet with them. A quick search on the Ancnet brought him the answers he needed, cross-referenced with their technology presently witnessed. One strong match; the Bolosan Scavengers, the lowest of the lows, worthless enough that the Galactic scene did not care enough to mention them nine out of ten times.
“Those are mere bottom feeders. If you wish to pilfer their findings, that is none of my concern,” the floating man merely hummed, as he continued to dissect the scene before him. Every second wasted is another clue lost, and Osten wanted knowledge.
The woman shook her head, her hair drifting slightly in the current. "Avrel is correct. There is a time for caution, and there is a time to be bold. The longer we sit on our hands, the greater the advantage we deliver to the God-Killer and his ilk."
Saying so, she pushed off from the cliff, focusing will into the water to draw energy into herself and generate a current from the temperature differential as she shot off towards the canyon, a building glow of light emanating from her.
Menmuer listened to the others speak as they arrived at the outcropping, but was interrupted in replying by the unnamed woman diving towards the canyon. Speaking through the same method as before, but now in a broadcast faction so that the others could hear him, he replied "I can sense the signature as well. It's cyborg, about a kilometer in size, but it's not alone, there are many smaller things of similar nature around it. I think it prudent to press on, although if we can avoid fighting it and attracting attention, all the better."
Leaping from the outcropping, he once again angled his body into a diving position, manipulating the water to push him forward rapidly, following after the unnamed female being with the polearm.
The dreamer observed her allies as they moved further down, she offered a grin at La Sana's lackadaisical attitude,
"sweet meats... an apt description... I'm not particularly keen on capture, I can extract their memories just as well from the corpses.."
As she turned towards the nearest dropship, her biomass began to quickly shift. Many of her secondary limbs began to flow and ebb into one another, quickly forming a small scale gravatiic accelerator out of the left most portion of her body. The weapon was a sickly crimson red, with flecks of marbled white structure containing the pulsating mass. her legs had split into multiple branching limbs to provide bracing for her newly christened arm,
"You two should take the lead.. I'll follow"
Far above the dirge craft entered a higher orbit, a single of the exploratory vessels began to shift the enhanced ocular organs dissolving and beginning to form the scaffolding for numerous defensive and offensive weapons. Below this, the ocular craft continued to feed targeting information to the dreamer herself.
House of Asterion: Lost Star
As the recon methods had pointed out, the large contact was indeed ahead of them and just as Menmuer had stated it was just over a kilometre long with a large amount of smaller contacts all around it. As the unnamed women and Menmuer now propelled themselves over the orange glowing abyss of the canyon there was a stir within the water, a slight ripple which had emanated out from the large contact.
Avrel-Naret had been right, it had detected them.
As Memuer had made his comment about avoiding it and avoiding to fight it, Faleka merely opened with a broad smile “My friends. This is what, or say Who, we came here for” As they now crossed the canyon to the other side the huge motion of the titanic being made its way over to them, disturbing sea currents as it drew closer, an even darker form which upon getting closer now seemed to have an almost ethereal glow. It was like a huge deep sea leviathan, long and serpentine made to look like the deep sea creatures that attracted others with their pretty lights. As the being came closer it became apparent that it was both organic and not, a strange amalgamation of bio-technology which now regarded them with wary and curiosity. A pearlescent white mask adorned the very top of the things massive head, and it brought it low to survey the individuals before it.
Surrounding the great being also swam many smaller creatures, deep sea creature looking things which swam around or clamped onto the larger being. They acted more defensively, swimming around where the party stood as if on guard.
“My friends, meet Hesione, one of the great beings of the House of Asterion. She is who we are here to see, for she is the VPN for powerful private individuals across the galaxy” Faleka talked via psionics. The surprise was when Hesione answered them all using the same.
”It is a very rare sight to see such guests in Asterions deepest depths. Many years it has been Faleka, who are your guests, and why are you here?” The voice was soothing and angelic but the fact it existed heralded that Hesione was despite the cyborg nature, clearly had a mandala, and a seriously powerful one at that. This artificial being had a soul.
Xullis System: Ex Limawa Space
The Bolosan dropships which were circling the area at high altitude did not seem to notice the Dreamer as it morphed itself into a new form capable of engaging one of them. The targeting data from the Dirge vessel was easily fed down and gave a sighted clear shot to the Dreamer, the round in question which was fired disturbed dust and sand across the whole area as the shockwave spread out, within less than a second impacting one of the dropships and smashing it from the sky. The burning wreck quickly descended to crash somewhere in the city several blocks away, the fiery glow becoming clearer with the encroaching dark.
But while the Bolosan may have had clues within their holds it was the efforts of Osten which gained the first inklings into what happened. The entire area had been of course devastated, but the powers unleashed here and the emotions which had been felt had left subtle imprints which could be observed. It was not a definitive exact picture but it certainly gave them some idea. There was a strong energy residue, likely from Arkol itself, its roiling anger was clear to identify along with several subtle imprints which gave off a sadistic glee, perhaps some kind of assistants of their main target. Remus was also easy to identify as being here with his emotions of elation and relief, likely as a step towards him regaining his title.
But another residue was present too, this one was cold, like a ball of ice which hardly gave off any emotion at all. It also was extremely strong, its residue clearly more powerful than even Remus. Perhaps he had not been alone in this?
Before any deeper analysis could be attained the area rumbled, and wind blew suddenly up and around the area of the residence. An ominious red glow permeating the area.
”You come her-“ ”Death, I will end y-“ ”No more”
The haunted words could almost be heard upon the wind.
Menmuer's surprise at the turn of events manifested on his face A living VPN... now that is interesting he thought, while gazing up at Hesione's great masked face, and continuing to sense the surrounding area. He was pleased that at least so far, the gargantuan being seemed to be a friend rather than a source of conflict, especially given its powerful psionic mandella.
Rotating into an upright position, he floated in place with the others. In answer to her question, he spoke, still limited to mundane sonic communication. "I am Menmuer, Emperor of the Nuclean Ecumene. We are seeking information about one named Remus, who broadcast a message through yourself recently."
Osten blinked slowly as the red glow surrounded himself and his companions. Perhaps there was still valuable knowledge to collect yet, but this would have to suffice. For now.
Remus was certainly not alone. Asides from the simpletons that had assisted the dishonored godslayer’s quest, he had a new piece of information that made this trip almost worth it. A new person of interest, and perhaps one of the more important clues as to what Remus had brought to slay Arkol with.
Or in this case, perhaps, who.
The floating man finally shifted his gaze from the reminder of carnage before them, to the Bolosan vessels, and then to the scarlet aura around them. It felt… familiar. Not unlike the rage and fury he had felt before.
“...Arkol, is that you?” Osten ventured a guess verbally, even as his grimoire appeared from thin air and fluttered open. He would distill this remaining essence, should it be necessary.
La Saña put his hands on his hips, leaning back and staring up into the sky, twisting around theatrically to peer about them. It seemed that Osten was managing to stir something up, and he knew how delicate these things could be, so rather than interrupt he turned to stroll in the direction of the crashed Bolosan vessel, which was close enough that even from the wreckage of Arkol's former home he could faintly hear the crackle of flames from the downed ship.
Enjoying the night air, he turned a corner to see the broken vessel in front of him. He approached it casually, whistling.
"Hello! Anyone there? That crash seemed very violent, amigos. Please lay my fears to rest and let me know you are alright!"
“And I am Lieutenant-Commissar Ridhuan of RANGSI,” he hesitantly said as he eyed the swarm of smaller beings surrounding Hesione, wondering if the artificial VPN would suddenly just get the slip on them. He cautiously pulled back slightly from the group to provide overwatch if things went sour. His blade remained sheathed for the time being.
“A great being of the House of Asterion...things just got interesting Champion Ridhuan…” A voice from the gestalt commented, belonging to XO Kazeher.
As the red glow suffused the area ahead of her, the Dreamer shuddered, unwilling to venture into the site of the death, though that had been her original intent. “This is far from my area of expertise, I'll leave it to you Osten.”
Taking gauge of the scene she decided perhaps her current form was a little much. While she was not adept dealing with esoteric dealings, downing a few more ships and maintaining a tight perimeter should be child's play. Her form seemed to pull into itself, violently stretching, ripping itself apart, splitting down the centre, before thin tendrils of viscera and biomatter began to pool into new limbs. Her physical size had not changed, rather she had made much of her form hollow. Naturally the weapon she held was quickly reabsorbed, the level of firepower not needed again such vessels, and replaced it with something more resembling a contemporary auto-cannon. One of the Dreamer's bodies, Crimson, stalked towards the crash site with la sana,
“Apologies my friend, it appears that I was a little rough with them. Call it first time jitters..”
The Second form, marble, coiled its legs into a tightly wound spring before explosively releasing the pent up energy, within a few quick bursts placed herself directly opposite of Crimson, with Arkol's residence in between the two . Both forms while travelling moved in perfect unison while the craft in orbit continued to feed them targeting information on the scavengers.
Avrel-Naret observed Hermione and her cloud of ancillary entities with both his normal sense and a limited degree of Hypersense, mainly to detect any energy buildups that could indicate potential attack. For the moment though he remained calm and spoke to the massive being in a calm tone.
"Greetings. My name is Avrel-Naret of the Anais Unity. My associates are here at the House of Asterion on what amounts to a murder investigation, we are hoping that you would be willing to assist us in this matter? We bear no ill will to yourself or to the House of Asterion."
He then floated there waiting, 2 of his Essence Fish swimming around him in a much smaller way as Hermione's entities did her, the other two fish were further out, passively scanning for threats. After all, perhaps even Hermione had enemies.
The woman titled her head as Hesione replied, then shrugged in a fluid movement. "A name is unnecessary at the moment and seems superfluous, but as my colleagues say, we are here to uncover further information about Arkol's murderer and the personages behind such, that we might put an end to them before they threaten us in turn. Do you have answers for us or not?"
House of Asterion: Lost Star
Hesione seemed to coil around the group, the great being akin to some deep sea serpent, her white mask and head however stayed perfectly still as her body slowly coiled round akin to a snake. The others, known only as ‘Hesiones Angels’ continued to swim and circle the area, now enclosed Hesione seemed to be intrigued with the group. Bright lights and other dazzling patterns flowing up its massive form, part bioluminescence from the various organic components on Hesiones skin part electrical as the massive power of her body flowed through hyper advanced internal server stacks.
Hesiones body like those of her Angels after all were somewhat transparent, like deep sea creatures the group could ‘see’ into her, the machine and organic components which made up such a massive entity all working in unison, and on the top of her enormous head nestled deep within was the beautiful form of her mandala, glowing with a soft blue light.
"I greet you all to the House of Asterion travellers” Hesione replied to all, the water around them all being warm normally from the under server activity now visibly heating and becoming disturbed by the heat given off by Hesione herself.
“My thanks great Hesione, but my compatriots tell the truth, we are in need of information regarding Arkols death. It is rare that one of our kind is killed, and such a matter is a great disturbance, I have seen that the information related to it has passed through your honourable form. We would be grateful if you would provide us with aid” Faleka added. There was a long pause.
” Arkol. That is a name I have not heard for many decades. I am sad to hear he is gone. But I do not listen to those who pass through my virtual form, it is against my very being. You are aware of my purpose Faleka, I cannot divulge information from the clients who use my great power, it is against my entire existence”
Xullis System: Ex Limawa Space
As Osten spoke aloud the far off emotions of the scene of the devastation changed. Suddenly it was not like echoes which floated on the wind, it was replaced by a sudden pressure, of anger, of dread. The emotions were exceptionally strong, seeking to overwhelm the man as the air shimmered and stuttered.
”You are here to kill me. Perish” It was a whisper laced with extreme venom and hate. Arkol may have died here, but not all of him had departed this realm. A violent red last of energy sprang out of thin air and swept the area that both Osten, The Dreamer and the man in bed robes, aiming to slice them all in half. The attack was one of pure anger and rage, and the air seemed to shift and shimmer with a red tint, like some part of Arkol still lived, still trying to fight against its already met fate.
As the violence of the city now came alive once again the destroyed dropship was scattered across a wide area, the round having torn it apart and the wreckage having crashed into several buildings. Flames lapped up from poorly engineered flight surfaces as La Sana and Crimson found the main body of the craft. None had survived the impact, dismembered Bolosan left thrown about the area partially charred. No calls came in return but the wreckage itself was easy to open up.
The Bolosan seemed to have been scavenging whatever materials they could find, pieces of valuables and other detritus lay about the inside of the ruined craft, but it was inside a large safe which La Sana and Crimson found the prize. A cube, large enough to fit into someone’s hand but engraved with all kinds of unknown markings, it was a box of some kind, and clearly out of place for the Bolosan and this planet.
Cutting delicately through the safe with his hikatana, La Saña picked up the cube. Before he had the chance to examine it, something prompted him to glance upwards and back the way they had came as a ripple of furious emotion, coupled with a red light faintly visible over the rooftops, burst from the direction of Arkol's ruined home.
He paused for a minute, then threw a glance at Crimson. "Maybe they need our help. We should head back, yes?"
As they turned, he casually tossed the cube in one hand, squinting at the details. "I wonder what is inside?" he said, sheathing his sword and taking the box in both hands, applying both physical and psionic pressure to try and open the box or unravel the puzzle that was keeping it closed.
Jormundgand's response to the assault was sudden as his body immediately split apart into a multiheaded trunk of writhing emerald green and red serpents. His reaction was instinct, sudden and effective. With his new form he managed to easily avoid the sudden assault from Arkol's remains. Jormundgand quickly reformed to his seemingly harmless human form, clearly irritated at this sudden distraction. He had always been a god of the physical plane, spectral forces only annoyed him unlike the rest of his draconian brethren. While he was no stranger to what Arkol now was, he did not look to the entity with the same passive interest he had shown previously. The ghost of a supposed god now had his attention.
Unlike with Arkol, back with the group at Lost star the draconian paid close attention to this new entity with a pleased fascination, his golden eyes scanning over the massive coiling form which only reminded him of himself in both form and function. He resisted his urge to "investigate" this entity further, his own way, and let his party continue with their own questioning.
Marble, being closest to Osten and the man in bed robes was subject to the attack. Her weapon was quickly repurposed into a basic magnetic shielding unit, enlarging the acceleration organs within. She held out her hand towards the attack, and 'shed'; the outermost layers of her flesh, forming a layer of suspended particulate. The attack was not entirely blocked, but much of its energy was robbed. She watched the slash penetrate the shielding and split into many smaller vectors. Her hand and arm, formed primarily of the dense bone structure from her previous merged form ablated and fragmented off in a deliberate fashion, allowing the dreamer to control the damage dealt to one of her halves.
“Perhaps that would be wise” Crimson spared a glance towards the object held in La Sana's hand, “If you do not succeed perhaps I may take a crack at it? The weight of my mind has much power to bring to bear.”
Once the particulate had been reabsorbed and the dus5t settled, Marble began to close the distance between her and her other half. Her upper left quarter was shorn off entirely, revealing a hollow phsyical makeup, along with several other 'cracks' that had formed along the rest of her body following the impact. The hollow cavities produces an uncomftorable tone as the wind of the abandoned city passedf through them. Behind Marble, the largest parts of her body began to coalesce into a strange thinf made almost entirely of limbs, collecting itself before trailing behind Marble.
Ridhuan and his psionic bubble vessel ‘floated’ a few steps back upon Hesione’s rejection of their request for information, instinctively putting some distance between him and the giant living VPN. An instinct held over from his old mobster days - when a party rejects an offer 99% of the time no one would walk out of the room without some gunshots, blade parrying and punches.
“Well, well, of course things wouldn’t be so simple isn’t it,” the disembodied voice of XO Kazeher echoed at the back of his head. “You think it’s about time for a fight?”
The monk-commissar’s left hand was just inches away from grasping the handle of his blade, but at the last minute he shifted onto its sheath. “Hesione has a powerful mandala. A fight would be unnecessarily costly. And she likely knows everything we are about to say and think of doing before we do ourselves.”
He gave a look at Faleka, transmitting his thoughts. “Madam Faleka, I hope you have something to offer Madam Hesione here.”
The only sound left in the air after Arkol’s ghostly strike was the reverberation of a chime, echoing through the lost and defunct city alongside the destruction the once-god himself had inflicted. Had Osten been slower on the draw with his glaive to parry the psychokinetic, he would surely be split in two by now.
But his initial surprise had turned to jubilance at such a sight and show. Arkol may be dead, but here his essence was, with consciousness and power to lash out still. The floating figure’s polearm floated from his front to his side, ready should the dead god choose to waste more of his precious life-energy on more strikes.
“Arkol, you have already lost. Remus and his cronies have won, and your people have regressed back to that of mere beasts. Your proud city is no more, your people are no more, and you are no more,” Osten spoke as he pushed with his power ever so slightly, to make a gust of wind to blow the debris, smoke, and dust that obscured the main street. To show what was left of all that the fallen god had made.
“Would you like to take revenge on your killer?”
A smile formed on the edge of his mouth as he bowed to the red mist before him. “I would like to offer you a second chance at life and an opportunity for vengeance, in exchange for your knowledge. My name is Osten, and I am at your service, shall you choose to make use of I.”
At Hesione's declination, the corners of Menmuer's mouth drew slightly downward in a light frown. I suppose I should've expected as much, she is after all, a VPN he thought to himself. Electronics and computing weren't really his specialty, at least outside of a decent understanding of them. That was Cinder's field... who unfortunately, wasn't here. He sighed, reminded of the fact that as much as she sometimes rubbed him the wrong way, the Isoterran leader was quite good at things like this, and there were many times when he was in fact, grateful for her company.
Ending his brief jaunt into reflection, he decided to ask the living computer a follow-up question "Lady Hesione, I understand that your nature precludes you from simply giving us the information we seek. But could you perhaps point us to someone who can help us further? We would be most appreciative"
House of Asterion: Lost Star
Faleka glanced at Ridhuan and shook her head slightly.
”Hesione is above bribes. The fact that she is a VPN means that giving out any information that comes from her is an anathema to her. I came here to get the information, prepare yourself for that” the last part was also sent to Menmuer and Arvel-Naret.
Hesiones great pearlescent mask seemed to ever so slightly move to look at Menmuer before she then spoke. The Angels around her seemed to be somewhat agitated, of course Hesione had enclosed the group in her bulk but the Angels flitted about more actively none the less.
”I thank you for understanding my need for secrecy, a being such as me giving out information would necessitate my self-destruction. That is willingly however. This is not the first time Faleka has come to me for needed information on one of my clients, unless you can somehow break into my very programming you will not find the information you see anywhere else Menmuer of the Nuclean Ecumene. I presume, Faleka you are here for the same reason as last time” The form of Hesione tightened at the mention. Faleka nodded her head.
“I am. I know you wish to help me just as you did last time, but your very existence forbids it. I am sorry for what we are to do my friend” Faleka moved extremely quickly covering herself in bubbles as the water moved with her, a long pink sword of energy appearing in her hands “I am sorry my friends, we will have to subdue her and extract the information we need from her systems, do not kill or cripple her. Hesione is a good friend and an important part of this place”
Xullis System: Ex Limawa Space
The small box that La Sana and Crimson oversaw did indeed seem to be some kind of puzzle box, the strange markings making some sort of pattern which could be pressed to open it. Despite the violence that was now seeming to go down from where they came from this box seemed extremely important. As La Sana slowly pieced together the pattern with help from the Dreamers extension the box clicked open, the top of the box peeling back like a flower to reveal a kaleidoscopic series of colours and sounds and more from within, none of which appearing in the normal spectrum. Words, or rather emotions and instinctual genetic commands bombarded both.
“REVERT. FORGET. DEVOLVE. GO BACK. REVERT. FORGET. DEVOLVE. GO BACK. REVERT. FORGET. DEVOLVE. GO BACK” Over and over again as if it was some kind of command of a powerful being. It was not quite enough to fully overpower the two entities but it would have been more than powerful enough to revert the Limawa in a huge radius. This was how they had crippled Arkols power base and people.
Initially there was no reply from the enraged remains of Arkol, only two more strikes with the psychokinetic power. Another as a long slash aimed at Osten while another was aimed more like a bolt of explosion energy hoping to catch Marble and Jormungand. The force before them lashed out with anger and rage, the energy varying wildly as Arkols extremely fractured form fought to try and undo the very thing that had broken it. It was clear the form was not the full consciousness, it was just a fragment of Arkol left behind due to his immense passing. Still the offer of enacting revenge calmed the entity, at least in a way to cease its attacks.
Remus will burn, he will not succeed, he will perish” was all that was said on the wind, like a whisper which contained all the anger in the universe. Clearly the fragment was not as intelligent as was hoped, but it was something and it was in some way communicating.
La Saña staggered a little as the wave of coercion crashed over him. For a moment he fought it, before consciously rearranging the Eightfold Fence of his mind and allowing it to flow freely through his subconscious, which reveled in the base emotion of the message.
Enjoying the sensation for a moment, he closed the box with a snap and turned to Crimson with a raised eyebrow. "So now we know how they robbed Urkel of his powers. Most devious. We do not want a folderol like this falling into the wrong hands" he said, pocketing it inside his voluminous shirt and turning back towards the flashing red lights.
"It seems our friends are having the fun time." he commented, setting off at a quick stride towards Arkol's former residence, his katana drawn and glowing with scarlet energy.
Menmuer sighed, disappointed that combat was necessary with Lady Hessione. It seemed wrong in a way, to force themselves on another like themselves, in order to gain the information they needed. However, he knew the issue at hand was larger than simply avenging Arkol. #IMAGO had made that clear enough when they had issued their very public threat against those who were beyond normal beings.
He closed his eyes "If this is the way it must be, then so be it" he said, reaching out with his power towards Hessione and her angels. Around each of the swimming 'angels', he froze the water in a large bubble around each, encasing them in a solid sphere of hardened blue ice. These, being less dense than the liquid water around them, suddenly gained a large amount of bouyancy, and would promptly shoot to the surface, isolating the massive leviathan.
Towards Hessione herself, he decided against worrying about grappling control over her, and simply seized the liquid around her, fixing it in place so that she wouldn't be able to move. He hoped that would be enough for the others, as despite his power, he was non-psionic, and would have trouble countering Hessione's mandela without harming her directly.
The psionic detonation took out a great deal of the surroundings, a hailstorm of fragmented roadwork, gravel and dirt clouded the streets. Marble, having a lighter frame between the two, and having already sustained a fracture along her arm, was unable to redirect the force of the impact, and was shattered against the ground. Crimson showed no concern or discomfort towards the secondary lashing attack, having witnessed it before. Lacerations formed on her upper body, but she had already perfected a particulate shield that could ‘break’ the strike and diffuse the energy over multiple vectors. The whisps of blood and viscera the emanated from her body quickly animated and stretched to reconnect to her body.
“It seems like. “ Crimson glanced o the box, constantly attempting to assert its will onto its surroundings, “Keep that thing well hidden. Study it at a later dat. It may be a useful tool we may use to assist in dealing with a threat in future. She broke into a run to return to the main group.
Marble on the other hand had deliberately absorbed the shock of the blast, deliberately forming fault lines within her body moments before the blast, diffusing most of the heat in a thin ablative layer that burned off, While her body fractured and fragmented, the pieces broke along ordained faults, shattering only the large body, while keeping the many smaller pieces in tact,. Quickly they flowed into one another. And began to reform marble’s body.
One of the dirge craft in orbit vectored deeper into the atmosphere. Portions of its grey matter and quantum lattice armor liquified into a psionically charged slurry and dropped from orbit, spitting into two masses to give both of the Dreamer’s representations a larger pool of bio-mass to work with to compensate for their lack of psionic shielding or protection.
The woman looked up at the towering form of Hesione and then over to Faleka. "Perhaps it may have escaped your attention, but engaging a construct like this is not something you can do without damaging it. That said..."
Here, she broke off, and slammed the maranil against the ground, the weapon flaring with sullen light as plasma flowed along the edges, before pooling in the space between the blade. Reaching inside herself to the roiling fury of Her/It/The Star, she tapped the well of power and channeled it. The glow began to increase until it was near blinding, before she leveled the tip of the weapon at Hesione's face.
"...I can improvise." Then the glow sharpened, before a roiling column of plasma lashed out at Hesione from the tip of her weapon.
Ridhuan sighed. The protective bubble around him shrinked, reshaping itself to follow along the contours of his figure. He unsheathed his heat katana, brought its guard where the state emblem was engraved to his face as it was the tradition for all officers to do so when unsheathing the sword and then finally slashing it down to the right, brandishing it for action. His eyes locked onto the Angels surrounding Hesione as Faleka and the High Imperium woman made their attacks on Hesione.
“I will go for the Angels,” his left arm reached out to the nearest one and pulled it towards him with telekinesis with the intent to cut it down when it was in range of his katana.
As Arkol's psychic attack ripped through the air towards Jormundgand the blast began to waver and reshape, narrowing to a point until it eventually faded as it got closer to the now fully alert draconian god. The energy coursed its way into the man's open palm, the center of which had ripped open into a tooth filled bestial maw and split down and through his forearm ending at the elbow like a disfiguring wound. Bones and fingers had cracked and twisted into razor sharp teeth and fangs, muscle shifted into gums and a long slathering tongue, and a thick black liquid gushed from a newly formed throat like saliva. The attack funneled down this new gaping and hungry pair of jaws as though pulled by a singularity, it forced the attack to continue, the black fluid reached out like tendrils, further tightening the unseen grip Jormundgand had on Arkol's assault, creeping up the psionic blast like serpents trying to reach its source as Jormundgand himself snorted and chuckled, a brief glimpse of his true gluttonous self was visible, and he wasnt going to let the disembodied spirit get away from it, forcing the entity's attacks to focus solely on him while the others tried to do their part, lest he do his.
Back with the Lost Star party, Jormundgand's reaction was more subdued as he analyzed the situation. This entity had neither angered him or paid him any attention, which was fortunate as he was unsure if he'd learn anything by consuming this machine other than its physical history. He had never tried eating an AI before and the unknowns weighed heavy on him. Would it be like consuming a soul? Or would he just gain the physical history of the shell it occupied, destroying any valuable knowledge the construct may know. He quietly questioned the possibilities while otherwise ignoring the others readying their own retaliations, staying close to Faleka.
It was quite spectacular given its roots, the city that had grown up replete with its shining spires and glittering architecture had been little more than muddy fields and open land just 100 years earlier.
In just 100 years, the Limawa peoples had been transformed from undeveloped plane grazers to a fully functioning and highly socially developed spacefaring species. All because of the guidance of one who had come to them from the sky, united their peoples and taught them of the great journey. They had named him ‘Arkol’ ‘The one who guides’ and none officially knew who or what he was, only that he was benevolent and held immense power.
Arkol had uplifted the minds of the Limawa people and guided them forwards to the next step whenever they were ready, teaching them of the wheel, of the harvest and of the space fold systems of FTL travel. He had taken such a backwater species and turned them into a pacifist but incredibly socially advanced nation, nothing was wasted, and everyone had a purpose. Arkol had of course imparted his knowledge much slower now as they progressed, the next step taking ever longer to achieve, and so the being sequester himself away in the first hut their people had created for him to live.
And it was where the foreign individuals were heading now. Of course the world was no stranger to foreign tourists or even scientists, coming to study the wondrous uplift of their species. Or the attempts of pirates who had seen easy pickings, only to be erased by Arkol himself in his protection. But these were different, it was like a catwalk which proceeded down the main avenue of the capital city, their truly abhorrently extravagant different dresses and suits and designs glittering with kaleidoscopic light which danced off the towering silver spires that surrounded the way. They strode with an air of total superiority, as much a swagger as true movement like every step, action or thought had to be for the perfect pose. To them everything was a statement, every breath, every action and their mission here was no different. To anyone else they were known simply as #IMAGO to the Limawa peoples who were oblivious to their nature, they were some odd curiosity.
The individuals were part of a larger group, which had landed not only around the planet but also on the other colonies of the Limawa, each person was a bedazzled unique wardrobe of designs which the uplifted species did simply not understand or appreciate. Which made this task all the more important, what species could be allowed to live if it had no taste? As the main band strutted down the avenue the spires grew taller as they reached the governmental district, but it was the lone mud hut at the end in a small mostly untouched area of greenery that they aimed for.
Limawa had no military, Arkol had defended them since their first songs about the stars, and none moved to bar the clearly heavily armed mad men. And at last they stopped. Each of the 30 pulling poses like the backdrop to some poor funk band who was far out of date. They held a close formation, almost obscuring something inside their small clique, but it was the huge male at the front who stepped forward. His armour, a segmented plate which had each individual section playing a holographic scene of every atrocity #IMAGO had ever committed was made of pure pearl and shone brilliant in the mid-day sun. His equipment was just as insane as the rest but he carried a huge club, a mockery of the wooden cartoon cavemen clubs from the old Ancnet Saturday morning shows.
“Oh cooey!” He shouted, the entire group making a choir sound that echoed as a backing to his every word that followed.
“Arkol, I know you’re in there, why don’t you come out and play?” As the backing choir stopped a veritable crowd had assembled to watch what was happening. For a few moments there was silence, then the small flap on the mud hut was pulled back and the quite bland and normal form of Arkol walked out and over to the group.
The #IMAGO group collectively threw up, repulsed at the sheer…. Normality of the creature. For one with such godlike powers to be a deity and to look like this? Shameful, heretical even. An affront against everything. The being before them looked like a Limawa, with subtle differences and paint marks across its face. It wore a worn robe, and went bare footed, but despite the appearance they all knew its power.
“Oh my silly billy, how such high and mighty can go around looking like that makes me disgusted. You know why we are here don’t you? Having seen you like this honestly makes me want to forgo the flashy bits and get it over and done with” The man sighed, melodramatically acting as If he was in great pain.
“I know why you are here yes. I ask you to kindly leave. There is only death on the path that you wish” The voice of the deity was soft, calm and surprisingly hard to pick out, like a mumbling sound in a crowd. Honestly, this was more pathetic than they had thought, was this a terrible pick? Did they choose wrong?
“Death for you perhaps Hmm? They say you derive your power from these people is that correct my dirty friend?” again more melodrama as if this was some sort of poor theatre act. A series of small drones were deployed by one of the team to hover around the area and record.
“They say a lot of things. Now leave” Arkols voice changed, anger had crept in and for a brief instant the man in the armour thought the god had let his perception field down as he gazed however briefly onto a burning, roiling multi-coloured inferno. A smirk came across his face.
“Guess we will do this anyway then” He clicked his fingers, and one of his entourage brought out a small black box, they all seemed to pull out various headphones then and put them on, some were small air pods while others had enormous and hand sculpted huge headphones. Once all were on he clicked his fingers again, and the box was opened. Along with every box across Limawa space. At once, they began to scream, a low moaning wail as the higher functions of the Limawa mind were ripped away. Arkol roared and fell to his knees. The effect only lasted a minute before he snapped his fingers and the boxes were closed and put away.
In 100 years, Arkol had uplifted this species, in one minute, #IMAGO had reduced them to the grazing animals he had found. The being, dropping all façade revealed itself to be the blazing inferno that was glimpsed before, power coursed through it, and despite the huge reduction in power by the destruction of its people Arkol would be no easy fight.
”I will take your life like you took my legacy from me” It boomed, the voice of the being shattering the silver spires and rocking the area.
“Oh no silly I don’t think so, after all, we have our own ways of making this work” The group stepped aside, to reveal a single man who was silently sniggering to himself. And with the click of a pair of fingers the whole group including the new surprise got to work.
Foremunda System: Unaligned Space
Faleka sat at the rather large table in the traditional robes she always wore. The small china tea set before her had been laid out perfectly, down to the exact special alignment needed to be total perfection. It had been hand crafted by the very people who she had discovered were now for all intents and purposes gone. She sighed as she poured some rose tea for herself, the sakura tree behind her blowing in the wind and covering the entire area in beautiful pink flowers, each one curving as to not fall onto the table. The sound of water complemented the situation as the stream where this beautiful vista was set up flowed freely and clear.
It was a difficult thing to summon others like her. It wasn’t like calling for help from a conventional nation, one didn’t just put up a distress call on the Ancnet for other gods to come and meet up. As such Faleka was reduced to other ways, she had sent a subtle psionic message across the galaxy, using natural mandalas and more to amplify it to all corners for what she needed. To any normal being it was unperceivable, to psionics it would be like a fleeting sensation but to those with power like her it would be a message a call to arms in a way. Faleka had spent her entire existence wandering this galaxy, and while the many nations were substantially linked, the beings that resided here were as divided as ever.
And yet one of their number had been hunted down for a statement, so this had to change. They had to act.
And so she had sent the call out, asking any who would come to meet her here in this tranquil place.
Zaoth System Capital of the High Imperium
To most, the small chunk of rock meandearing around its orbit was unimpressive. Except that when scanned, all signals seemed to just vanish, as if they'd never been. Further observation might note that in a system that functioned as the beating heart of an interstellar empire, where no one and nothing was left unconnected in some form, this object existed in its own personal bubble of silence and peace.
And to those who knew the truth, all of the above would hardly have been a surprise. Mortals had no place intruding on the affairs of the divine, after all.
---
Several kilometers deep into the asteroid, there was a long processional hallway, decorated with tapestries, covered in jewels and precious things. And at the end of the hall, there was a dais with a perfectly formed crystal sphere sitting on it, glowing from within.
As Faleka's message swept through it, the light spilling from the sphere stuttered, then began strobing and flaring. The asteroid itself began to shudder as the wrath of a god shook spacetime itself in the immediate vicinity. This was beyond all reason. A god slain simply so the mortals could pretend themselves above it all? No. And with that, a single thought rippled in the air.
THIS CANNOT BE BORNE
And with that, all that remained was to find a suitable vessel and answer the summons.
Foremunda System - Unaligned Space
A slight shiver in the breeze was the only indication before reality seemed to flicker, and there was suddenly a woman standing several meters away from Faleka's table. She was tall, but fairly slim, although that detail seemed lost in the intricate silver plate she was wearing. She'd come armed for war, with a polearm of some sorts in her hands, and a plain longsword in a scabbard across her back. But for all that, she was obviously far from ordinary, with light rippling and shimmering around her, almost as if she was producing the light herself.
Smiling slightly, she bowed smoothly to the goddess. "Madam, may I partake of your hospitality?"
Ruminating on the unusual feeling he had just experienced, one apparently unrelated to the sweetroll he was eating, Juan Carlos was intrigued. He preferred to live life under the radar - the showy and ostentatious natures of other powerful beings usually served as their downfall, and spoke of a motivation other than his own pure driving force: curiosity. So when Faleka's message had rung through the aether, it had piqued his interest. The Merger were boring him, as the more he delved the more he realized they were single-minded beasts, no matter how complex their methods, and he needed a new project. This seemed to fit the bill.
The idea of mortals trying to hunt down their betters in a fit of hubris was certainly worth taking a look at. Finishing the fruity sweetroll and sucking on his fingers, he stepped out of an airlock on the crudely-named IJN Hellfire and fell slowly towards the distant planet, eventually accelerating through the atmosphere and landing in a heap. Brushing himself off, he strolled past fallen petals and a bubbling stream towards Faleka and the avatar. Dressed in a simple red kimono with black hems and white embroidery, his sandals crunching with a pleasing noise, the feline humanoid came to a stop without ceremony, a hand resting on the hilt of a hikatana.
"Ah, I see we are already gathering. Buenos dias! I am Colonel la Saña of Ingen, though you may call me Juan" he announced cheerfully, his accent soft and purring as he adopted a more serious tone, his face practically mournful.
"It was most distressing to hear about Urkel. Someone should do something about these hashtag people, yes?
Menmuer meditated within Stella Prime's shell, basking in the photosphere of the yellow dwarf that it encapsulated, his cloak flowing as if in the wind, moved by the scorching currents of plasma. Even after millions of years, it was still a calming experience to be able to just sit and percieve the universe around him, using his sense for his 'domain', seeing layers upon layers of detail in each eddy and granule far beyond what his normal senses could.
His attention was swayed by a sudden message entering his mind, a psionic call for help it seemed. With a smooth intake of breath, a needless gesture given his lack of metabolism, his eyes opened and he rose upward, emerging presently from the inferno as he spent a moment thinking. While he usually didn't concern himself with much of the events in the Ancerious galaxy that didn't directly affect the Ecumene, the fact that a group of normal beings were able to seemingly snuff out a rather powerful being's life with ease was concerning, especially since the same group apparently planned on doing more such executions on other entities. This was precisely the type of threat that he dealt with when it came to the Nuclean interests, and thus, he decided to answer the call.(edited)
It only took a moment to move to the location, his form abruptly becoming fuzzy and out of focus as he adjusted his wavefunction, disappearing from the sector capital and arriving on the planet from which the call had emanated.
Next to Faleka and the others, what appeared to be a Nuclean clothed in nothing but a glistening silver cloak quickly came into focus. He was of respectable height, standing 1.83 meters tall, with soft brown eyes. The being addressed those present in galatic common, with a beautiful flowing accent, while giving a respectful nod to those around him. "Greetings, I am Emperor Menmuer, of the Nuclean Ecumene." After greeting everyone, his eyes focused on Faleka "Might you be the one who has summoned myself, and the others here?"
"That is certainly the question of the day..." A cold voice answered from the far side of the gathering. A man stood where none had been standing before, dressed in dark green silk pajamas and slippers, and covered in a plush green and red striped house robe. He looked like he had been woken up by rowdy kids in the middle of the night as he looked among the gathering with a tired expression marring his otherwise handsome and young features. His messy long brown hair was swept back into a short pony tail leaving only a few strands to dangle over his gaunt, pale, clean shaven face. He was thin, with wide shoulders and stood roughly 7 feet tall, had he been there the whole time there was no way he'd of not been noticed.
"Why did you wake me...do you have any idea how busy and tired Ive been?" The man's eyes flashed a golden, serpentine glare to Faleka as he looked her over. "Consider yourself fortunate you did not attract the others. They would be far less forgiving. Assuming of course, you didnt gain their attention by chance." A cup of what could only be assumed as coffee materialized in the man's long bony fingers and he took a drink from it. His features subtly changed as he drank, becoming more healthy looking and full, younger, stronger, as he seemed to wake up more.
The dreamer's body, formerly the Cerulean Cluster
The message received was not unlike the psionic burst she had release upon her own birth, Though the message it conveyed was significantly more dire.
For the first time since her inception, the Dreamer became aware of its own position in the universe. While it had personally met the being Elwar, the presence of other deities and entities operating within the galaxy has always been a vague notion they had been more or less Irrelevant to the preservation of all things. She recalled a memory, not her own, but the preacher Surafael and the beings of light that wept for all creation that had uplifted the Ceruleans. She felt a strange sense of loss at the death of the alien God. Soon that loss became dread as she realized her own vulnerability, so soon after her creation. In her current state, she had little influence beyond exerting it's will through the Dirge as a medium, though the engineered race provided a versatile medium.
She decided at once to respond to the call, and send a representation of itself. Her previous incarnations had been for diplomacy and grandeur of scale. A small flotilla of heavily armed Dirge craft, along with a constituent unarmed support fleet formed in the wreckage of the abandoned nation they resided, and made the Jump. All the while, within the largest of the Dirge craft the Dreamer meticulously engineered a new Dirge form, taking full advantage of the spices inherit traits, while sequestering a component of it's own ego to empower the Avatar.
Rubikon II
AGA-Occupied Capitol Space
Commissar-Lieutenant Ridhuan stood before the hole in space and time, a void of purplish energies, a tear in the fabric of reality that connected the material and astral.
Rubikon II was still the hellhole he remembered in the days of the 2nd Ancerious War - black skies and streaks of lightning wrecked havoc on the arid wastes below. But now it was hellish in a different way. Gone were explosions, nuclear mushrooms, tanks and guns, replacing them were esoteric anomalies ranging from benign wisps and harmless ghosts to malignant entities, what he theorized to be corrupted gestalts of the dead. At least the lightning storms remained the same, though sometimes they seem to switch to a haunting red for no explicable reason.
The First Sage’s visions brought him here, back to where his worst nightmares lay. In its meditation, it picked up a plea of help and its wisdom has discerned it to be the voices of none other than the fallen of the 45th themselves.
Ridhuan had his suspicions, but being here...hearing the familiar whispers emanating from the tear...feeling them...there was no mistake; these were the souls of his comrades. He and his monks have travelled the barren deserts in their pilgrimage to these hallowed grounds, fighting off all sorts of demonic spirits and monsters along the way. After coming this far, doubt will not stop his blade.
Clear in intention, he summoned all his physical might and psionic mana as he stuck his sword deep into the ground, kneeling as he pooled his thoughts concentrating them in drawing in the souls of the 45th. A bright flash illuminated the stormy night, engulfing Ridhuan in a sea of warm, blinding light.
-------
“Corporal Ridhuan, it’s been a while” his eyes opened to the sight of a familiar figure in uniform.
Lieutenant-Colonel Kazeher. The second-in-command to Gharshall Lein and XO of the 45th Expeditionary Force. Renowned for rising through the ranks all the way from the bottom, he was the father figure of the unit. His life was taken by an Abyssal Golem, the mental despair it emanated was nothing compared to that of the soldiers he considered his sons who saw him being eaten alive.
“Lieutenant-Colonel sir…” Ridhuan saluted. “We heard your call, sir. What do we need to do to break you all out of this prison?”
“Prison?” Kazeher asked, puzzled by his choice of words. “Well, I guess being trapped on the battlefield you died on is a prison in itself, though I don’t certainly see it that way…”
“Sir?”
“We brought you here because we do indeed need help, but not to break free from this place no, there is a greater threat out there. Even stuck here, we are still able to observe the galaxy from the astral plane. And I bear grave tidings.”
Kazeher played the Faleka’s message about a group of mortals killing a god. “A force powerful enough to kill a god. Such a force can destroy the balance of the universe itself. Who knows if one day this force would come and threaten the Republik?”
“Sir, so you want me to take on these...god-killers?”
“Not just you my friend,” Kazeher motioned Ridhuan to follow him up the stairs.
----
Ridhuan’s eyes widened at the sight. The familiar tune of drums echoed throughout the land as a million soldiers in combat gear marched into formation, along with tanks, APCs and howitzers that had been deployed in the Battle of Rubikon II. Strike fighters and dropships that had once been downed by neutron bombardments and Capitol AA flew overhead, their engines screaming through thunder and lightning of the skies. The wastes of Rubikon II were their parade ground, once all 1 million or so soldiers were in view they stopped and presented their arms to Ridhuan and Kazeher.
“All of us are in this together.”
The Colours of the 45th was marched all the way to the front and was presented to Ridhuan. He stood in awe of its insignia, a tiger superimposed on a white shield in a sea of orange, an insignia long forgotten by those who deemed the 45th as extinct.
“You will be our Champion, our powers shall flow through you,” Kazeher said as a glowing mark appeared on Ridhuan’s hands, the marks revealing themselves to the very insignia of the 45th.
“Wield us as your weapon. Wield us as your army. Wield us against those who would threaten the Republik.”
----
A small wormhole opened up to where Faleka had chosen to meet those that answered her call to arms. Ridhuan emerged from the wormhole in a brief flash of bright light, before he fell down on his knees, disorientated from the journey throughout space and time.
He felt a new found power coursing his veins. As he stood up, he could sense many of those assembled here were beings of power, equal or even perhaps superior to his own.
“A fair share of the galaxy’s finest have assembled, I see,” a voice mused as an almost-lanky young man, clean-shaven and sporting a soft yet mischievous grin materialized from thin air next to many others. Sporting some sort of relatively simple mobile wear of indeterminable origin, he floated just off the surface of the ground, where he seemed to be content to hover with a few items in his orbit; a glaive of glistening, exotic bronze, a grimoire thrumming with arcane energy, and a Puppeteer datapad that, as of current, floated just before him to read.
But a mere glance into this avatar’s eyes betray a different story. Unfathomable depths, innumerable calculations and an eternal hunger for input. A being that surpassed the annals of conventional history, who has been, is currently, and perhaps shall forever be.
“Osten, at your service, ma’am.”
Avrel-Naret was in his Bondrealm, the small personal dimensional alignment each Harvester or Battlefortress Bondpartner possessed. Pale shadows of the mighty realms found in Nelyssa or Makel'va's ancient vessels, the Bondrealm nonetheless offered Avrel-Naret a place to be alone to contemplate things-philosophies, situations, and actions alike,
All three of those things had come into play with the recent events at Decoroso. There had been so much death.... and yet so much new life. He recalled the oath all those who commanded Harvester ships had taken; "One Death, One Life". It had been there since the early days, despite or perhaps because of the actions of such notables as Xe'Metiel the Reaper, Nathrael the Angel of Death, and Naelle-L'Thren the Snow Wraith during the days of Eternal Night's Phoenix Program. "From Death we bring Life" Lord Midnight had said. Strangely but unexpectedly things did not go like Midnight had intended,,,
He had known that the events that were going to happen at the climax of the Dectrose War were going to be both trying and unusual. And he was not disappointed. His Harvester Protocore had just been mated to it's Lyrium matrix, indeed the Protocore itself was newly formed. Formerly the commander of a Scintillator, he had been asked by Blessed Laenas herself to take on this assignment in the wake of the destruction of Kaikoma by the Shade-possessed Annointed Archon, Skalia.(edited)
Laenas had wanted to return Skalia to her pre-Shade condition, which was only possible because Laenas had met Skalia at an AGA meeting long ago, before the Crucible, before the Zaingraf Incursion, before all the pain... By returning Skalia Laenas had actually meant resurrect Skalia, as her gestalt souls had been mostly destroyed or dissipated when the Red Letter Day Soldier had stabbed her with a weapon much akin to a Singers' Nightblade. The problem was twofold. Firstly Skalia was like all Annointed a gestalt consciousness of millions if not billions of souls and soul fragments, the second part was of course, "One Death, One Life". That philosophy had shown its grim truth at Decoroso. His Harvester had gone from it's newly "Hatched" state to Stage 3 in an instant in the cataclysmic flood of life energy released in the battle between Laenas and the Shade-possessed Skalia. He had fulfilled his oath though, regardless of the cost.
Should a Reaper feel regret? he thought, before thinking Of course, lest we become monsters... Still, it is a rough road we all walk...
There was a ripple in the realm's brane alignments and matrixes. A message, a resonance message. It was not a carrier for psychometric or spiritual attack-the wardings had sensed it and let it though. Avrel-Naret sensed Faleka's call and realised it's implications. This is something I cannot take independent action on, I must inform Lae- As he thought this the "air" of the realm shimmered and two female forms manifested. Blonde women of incomparable beauty, one he recognized instantly as Blessed Laenas. The other he realised with a bit of shock and even apprehension was Skalia, The two stood together, their arms around each other's waists.(edited)
Don't ask, don't tell... a part of his multidimensional mind quickly thought.
"Blessed Laenas, Archon Skalia, it is a great honor. I presume this is about the Resonance from Faleka?" he said softly, still unused to his now multiresonant voice. So much had changed... "Indeed." Laenas said. "I would ask you another favor, Avrel-Naret. Go and speak with this Faleka. See what she has to say. An invitation from a being of this magnitude deserves both tact and yet prompt attention. You can be my Herald in this matter."
"Herald?" he said, knowing the cultural and other implications of the term. "For this mission... but perhaps also in the future as a formal position." Laenas said, smiling. "After all the three of us share a bond because of our recent---convergence." As Avrel-Naret thought of the term convergence he looked at Laenas and Skalia, odd but understandable thoughts filling his mind which he quickly squelched. As Nathrael himself had once said "Things of the flesh" thought none of those present was truly comprised of it,
Skalia walked over to Avrel-Naret and held him close for a second. "I also wished to thank you for helping in my resurrection. The Archon could see and feel what Avrel-Naret was likely thinking, with a mix of intuition and the subconscious resonance the three of them would share now and forever. She then broke the brief embrace and returned to Laenas, The two of them spoke together-not the perfect synchronized voice of the Anais Twins, but a level that those who shared something special had. "Go now, give our regards to Faleka, and see what her motivations are." They then phased out in an intertwined cloud of nanites and calabi-yau manifolds.
"Were they ki..." he said before thinking Sometimes the greatest wisdom is knowing when to shut the fuck up.
Avrel-Naret and his Harvester phased quickly to the Xullis system. Once there his hypersense could sense the presence of....multiple entities. My first foray into Nth-Dimensional diplomacy he thought before sending an identification communiqué to system traffic control and then phase shifting to the area where Faleka and the others were physically present.
The air shimmered near the assembled group. Avrel-Naret's physical form manifested, a beautiful androgynous form roughly 2 meters tall, with wisps of black and amber energy surrounding him. He had platinum blond hair reaching straight down his back to his waist, and for a traditional Naacal robe worn by the people of Mu, a silk like thing that showed his form yet concealed any hint of immodestly. His eyes-pools of black with flickering dark amber flames visible inside, regarded the group before he spoke.
"Greeting to you all, My name is Avrel-Naret, ambassador from Blessed Laenas, ruler commander of the Anais Unity's forces and peoples in Ancerious. I bring you all greetings on behalf of the Anais Unity and have come in answer to Faleka's resonance."
So many assembled in one place.
Truth be told however, Faleka had expected more. But then that was rather naive, many of the beings she had encountered in the galaxy were arrogant. Assured in some way of their power and untouchable nature, to them there was no threat, and they could never be affected by happenings on the mortal realm. She wasn’t surprised that they did not care, but it was also ironic to her, a man did not pay attention to ants until they were already swarming all over him.
As the various guests appeared, some conventionally and some less so Faleka gestured for them all to take a seat at the large round intricate metal table she sat at. Holding up her thin hand she gestured for the various pieces of the tea set to move over to each space before pouring some tea into her own cup only for tea to appear in every cup.
“Please, sit, have some tea. You are all welcome here.” Her voice, rather than her psionic voice, was kind and almost entrancing. Faleka was known across the galaxy for being a wanderer, one who brings guidance unbidden in dark times. She even had a following, believers who worshipped her. But she was one of many gods and beings in the galaxy, many of which were now since unknown or now sought to blend in.
“As to your questions, yes I am the one who summoned you all here. My name is Faleka, and I have brought you all here because of two reasons. The first is that while beings like us exist in this realm, we are divided, and divided we are weak. The second is because of that very reason, one of our kind. A deity if you will, Arkol, was murdered by barbarians all for the sole purpose of making a social and political statement. Arkol was a gentle soul, he was a gardener who cultivated civilisations and he had never used his power once in anger within the galaxy as long as I had known him. The Limawa peoples, his pride and joy were also reduced to non-sentient creatures in the process, just before Arkol was killed.” She sighed.
“The group belonged to the movement known as ‘#IMAGO’ no doubt many of you will have heard of them. The problem is, this particular ensemble is led by an ex Götterdämmerung order individual. Now they, I am positive you have heard of, they try hunt us down actively but they are simple individuals and they are honourable in their actions. While they are a threat to all, they do not lash out within reason and they never make a kill a public political statement. The individual in question as I have found out is Remus Dragalina, as I said he was once in the order before he was rather unceremoniously expelled. He and his ensemble are our target, along with one other unknown”
La Saña stroked his whiskers in contemplation. In truth, he had vaguely felt the psychic torment of the Limawa as their sapience was stripped, and the rage, fury and misery of Arkol as he fought his final battle. He had not understood what he was witnessing, but then Faleka's call had made all clear.
Someone had figured out how to kill a god. He had seen it done before, but never by normies, and this new development represented both a danger and an opportunity. Change was everything, and he thrived on it. He spoke into the silence that followed Faleka's explanation.
"So unfortunate that thinking beings feel driven to such cruel and senseless acts. You are right, we must band together to stop this evil."
He took a seat, his hikatana clattering, and leaned his elbows on the ornate table.
"But I am thinking, this Urkel was very powerful, no? As they say, he was filled with beans. So if he was such a god, able to uplift an entire species just with a wink of the eye, then how did these mortals manage to overpower him?"
The man in the green robe had chosen to recline in his seat with his slippered feet resting on the table as he drank his previously summoned drink, openly refusing to partake in the tea offered to him by his host. His head was buried in his shoulders and wrapped around by his robe's cushioned lining as his eyes scanned everyone over. He had intentionally not introduced himself, not out of fear nor pride but out of indifference. He was clearly used to being around other deities or similarly powered beings. He looked more alive now than when he first appeared, he seemed to take up more space as his revitalized appearance had gained muscle and a youthful air about him, improving the longer he was there.
The man began to yawn, though his mouth continued to open. From ear to ear he opened a bestial maw filled with dozens of large and razor sharp teeth with not a space between them. A pair of long serpentine fangs individually flexed from their sockets from being tucked away behind his gums. As the yawn ended his face had quickly returned to normal, his human form was nothing more than a mask worn by something greater.
" This 'Arkol' was no threat you say? Was he native to this cramped little galaxy? He certainly put all of his eggs in one basket..." The man commented calmly as he took a drink from his mug. "This is certainly an interesting turn of events, though it is not uncommon to my pantheon. These mortals are still victim to hubris."
At Faleka's invitation, Menmuer had carefully walked to the table and taken a seat, giving off no aura of power nor other little sign that he was anything more than an ordinary mortal, apart from the manner in which he had arrived. He grasped the offered cup of tea, taking in the details of its contents in an instant, before taking a small sip as the others spoke. Deciding it needed something extra, a scone appeared in his hand, which he quietly took a bite of, enjoying the pleasant taste.
I'm not sure how honorable a group organized around killing innocent sentient entities for sport or to make a statement can be... he mused internally, listening to Faleka's explanation of the situation and the others' responses to it. Menmuer wasn't very acquainted with either #IMAGO or Götterdämmerungsorder, as that was more of Minister Tiicelebria's field. However from what he had gotten thus far, it still seemed a surprise that they were able to take on a being so powerful as Arkol had been.
After the unnamed being had commented, Menmuer finally took a turn to speak. "Regardless of it being hubris or not, the more important aspect is that this group has succeeded, and I share Colonel la Sana's desire to know just how this was accomplished, as well as what sort of other resources this group might be able to access, as that will tell us the severity of the threat."
The Dreamers body was created in a half second whilst Falka spoke, With her internal physiology complete, all that was required was to establish the Final link. The fragment of power propagated throughout the Dirge, opening a direct link with the Dreamer, creating an artificially induced avatar. A wave of psionic energy supercharged the natural properties of the body she was inhabiting, transforming the tumultuous sphere of biomatter into the form of the Dreamer. She was relatively humanoid with pearlescent porcelain flesh interspersed with red patterns that constantly shifted. She was a humanoid entity with feminine features, roughly dozen arms, with two spry legs.
Shifting directly from her previous form to this one required little more than a thought. She placed an open palm upon the offered mug, and created a small vaccum within, ingesting the hot liquid directly through her hand,
“We have memories of another being, very similar to Arkol. His loss was... painful to us. To watch such an event transpire in such a... mundane way, as though he were little more than an animal to slaughter, made the act all the worse.”
Though the face did not change, the notes of disgust within the Dreamer's voice were apparent
Ridhuan sat down and listened to gods talk, in silence. The only gods he knew were those of human religions back home, gods which seemingly only exist in scriptures and worshipped through pure faith alone, despite their followers having neither seen, heard or felt their deities. These beings may not be truly ‘gods’, given the tenets of his own religion that had him believe in one unseen supreme god, but nevertheless, they are powerful beings like no other. Being marked by the 45th only served to heightened his awareness of such fact, since now he can roughly feel the power emanating from them. Despite the ascension to Champion, he still felt pretty human. At least the tea was something familiar to him, such a drink was a staple during his time in the Sangha’s temples.
There was nothing he could ask Faleka now, La Sana already asked the most obvious question that came after her explanation of the events - how could the god-killers achieve such a feat? He sat there, eyes closed as he sipped the tea patiently, waiting for Faleka’s answer.
Osten floated forwards, taking his seat amongst the others as the teacup floated up to join his datapad as he reached out to take a hold of the chinaware to take a sip of tea.
Götterdämmerung, an order that hunts the divine and those who might try to lord over sentients. No tolerance for defeat, it was the Spartan way--to come home with your shield, or atop it in death. No wonder this Arkol fell, this order was the real deal. So a fragment of his self began to dive into the Ancnet for answers. Staying far away from the Götterdämmerung and White Maginot encrypted databanks, there was little point drawing attention while their quarry was one of their disgraced. Who was this Remus Dragalina?
“This was not random. #IMAGO may be the brute muscle for this act, those shallow terrorists could not have conceived the means to have killed him… but then, why is an ex-Götterdämmerung member leading them? Is he trying to reclaim his lost honor? Continue his crusade?” Osten spoke up even as he searched the vast archives of the Ancnet.
“Götterdämmerung kills our kind on the regular, their armory must be filled with tools designed to bring us down low for the killing strike and it’s not even unlikely that their former member still possesses one or more of their tools. Just as important as the method he had used, we need to know if they have a next target, and who it may be. To that, I would like to ask ma’am, is where we can start searching for answers. Perhaps where Arkol himself was formerly based upon, where the once-Limawa lived? They cannot be allowed to continue on the offensive.”
Avrel-Naret listened to what Osten had to say, occasionally nodding slightly. His energy aura flickered as he thought of what needed to be said. "There is something that occurs to me. We are currently under the assumption that the presumed assassin is continuing his work that he did as a member of his former Order. But what if he is being used as a tool?"
He waited for a moment to emphasize his point then continued. "One of the greatest enemies being such as us have are others of our level. What if #IMAGO were hired by someone or something else? Or perhaps psychologically manipulated. Fanatics are often easy to steer along a path that coincides with their own beliefs. The irony for a being of our level to turn a group that hates what they are into a tool and puppet would be epically delightful."
"But whether they acted on their own or as unwitting agents of another, something needs to be done about this threat."
The woman set her pole arm aside and unlimbered the sword, setting it down with her other weapon before taking a seat at the table. As she listened to the others, her face became drawn in thought. A flicker of alarm could be seen as Avrel voiced his concerns.
Once the other being had finished speaking, she took a sip of tea and savored the rich flavor for a moment before clearing her throat.
"It would seem to me," she said, "That while your point about these mortals being pawns has merit, it is still secondary to the more immediate threat posed by #IMAGO. Further, I personally find them repugnant and a threat to galactic stability. Not to mention, it may well be that we uncover information about any potential puppet masters while we remove their pawns."
Her eyes burned with a fire that shimmered white and gold for a moment. "Nevertheless, I maintain that our first priority should be ensuring our security by destroying the scum who murdered Arkol, root and branch!"
Faleka took a sip of tea before turning to La Sana and replying.
“He was indeed powerful, but Arkol was not a militant being, he was never one for fighting. It is a likely case that he lost much of his power when the Limawa were regressed and that he was blinded by hatred, but my thought is that Remus had some kind of help. He was definitely no threat, and as far as I could tell he was a native however I do not of his origins for one day he merely came out of the Expanse.” She narrowed her eyes at the yawning man “And who might you be?” She added on, despite having her own suspicions. Before turning to answer the next question.
“As far as I am aware this is a self-acting group inside of #IMAGO but that just makes it all the more suspicious, It means they should have less resources not more. It is why Remus ability to enact this kill confuses me.” She paused before continuing to address Osten next “He is most certainly looking to reclaim his honour, and re-join the order. While it is true he may have several objects which can bring us harm he personally lost some of those objects that were trusted to him. I know Remus, I know the reason he was expelled by the order, and you see if you are given a target by the order they expect an honourable fight. A duel to the death, either you come back with the head of the being or you die trying. Remus failed his mission, and he ran, the god that he was sent to kill was me. I made the mistake of letting him live, and now it has come back to haunt me” She sighed.
“As for someone behind Remus pulling the strings I do not doubt it. However those are questions we may have to uncover as we go. First we need to look for answers, indeed travelling to the Limawa peoples home may yield fruit, but I did some digging before this meeting. The signal that Remus used to broadcast across the galaxy was routed through a VPN on Lost Star, inside the House of Asterion. However for note, anyone who wishes to pursue that lead must be able to resist extreme temperatures, extreme pressures and being able to breath super-heated water” She smiled “I just check, after all I don’t know your limits yet”
Menmuer continued drinking his tea while listening to Faleka, dipping his scone in it occasionally as he finished polishing it off, leaving what would have been a suspicious lack of crumbs from the ordeal, had he not been at a meeting of powerful beings.
He considered Faleka's hypothesis concerning Arkol being weakened and therefore becoming vulnerable to this Remus, turning it over and finding it solid. After all, there were myriad sources of power depending on one's origin, and this could lead to some unpleasant endings if one's enemies knew how to exploit the limitations of such. It made him grateful that he was fortunate enough to be more intrinsically based, as it had likely preventing the Spinehk from undoing him many times during their various conflicts.
"I can travel to Asterion to investigate the VPN" he said after Faleka had finished, thinking that this would be a good opportunity to become more acquainted with Lost Star and the galaxy as a whole. "But I would also like to know more about the items that Remus may have which can threaten us."
“I can follow Muenmer to Asterion. I’m somehow quite certain a psionic bubble can protect me from the elements. That, and I can summon spirits to scout out areas and distract enemies,” Ridhuan spoke up. The thoughts of the 45th are slowly starting to meld with his own, that was why he was starting to be more aware of what his powers can accomplish despite never having used them before.
La Saña was distracted by a faint beep on his holo. A newly arrived JIAN report indicated that the Gauss warship had been discovered, surrounded by destroyed Merger vessels, but with no sign of the Princess. At least not alive. He nodded to himself in satisfaction, then glanced back up to catch Ridhuan offering his assistance to Muenmer.
"Well, that leaves the Limawa people. I can go and visit them for you, although I do not know how much sense they will make after their brains have been turned into the tamale."
He stood and stretched, not having touched the tea. "Perhaps I will find some trinkets, something to tell us what marvels #IMAGO used to kill our good friend Arkham."
“Perhaps you are too quick to pull the proverbial trigger Muenmar, This Remus is Arrogant, but confident. To commit such an act in such a public manner must mean that he has many methods with which to bring us low. “
She turned to face La Sana,
“We would like to accompany you to visit the Limwa, if you will have me. We are capable of assimilating individuals in their totality. Conciousness, genome, memories. Everything. Perhaps some information of the process involved could be gleaned. We believe the consumption of a few pre-sentients will be acceptalbe. What i am most interested in however, is if in Arkol left any trace of his presence. A corpse if you will, though We know such a thing is unlikely for a being of his nature”
The robed man looked at Faleka and locked eyes with her after her question. His eyes were golden and serpentine with red rings around his irises, a sharp intimidating and predatory gaze, but he remained silent as the others replied, still reclining in his chair, though now he seemed fully awake and with that his form was now youthful, healthy, and strong. She had to of known what her call across the galaxy would ultimately summon; that it only summoned this single specific "man" to be physically present was in truth an incredibly fortunate outcome whether she or the others knew or not. The air around him was smothering, binding, like an unseen coil wrapped around the very soul, but he physically gave off no intention to harm anyone present. He was calm and passive, happily listening to everyone's conversation for his turn to speak.
"My name is 'Jasetrethes'" He answered Faleka's question calmly. "though you've probably never heard that name uttered in this galaxy before. No, the name Im known by these days is hardly my own, yet you may be more familiar with it. You may call me 'Jormundgand'".
“The House of Asterion… a tempting endeavor, but unfortunately, this vessel of mine would be too fragile for such extremes, at least without preparations that would stall our efforts for too long,” the man spoke as he finished his tea, the only other sound being the clattering as chinaware was set upon chinaware.
“I shall accompany my peers to the once-Limawa, if there are no objections.”
The woman grimaced as the others spoke amongst themselves. "While I disagree with this council's refusal to assault #IMAGO directly, I am not willing to risk our plans by launching an attack by myself. As a being of fire, I will accompany the expedition to Lost Star and the House of Asterion if that is fine with all of you."
Having said that, she leaned back, crossing her arms and proceeding to glower in sullen silence.
"I too share the belief that direct confrontation may not be the best way to go about this. After all besides the potential of being a trap, we will be dealing with the presumptive enemy on their home ground. For a number of reasons that I am sure you all recognize this is not the best idea." Avrel-Naret said to those gathered in the room.
"That being said, it would be self-serving at best, and cowardice t worst to watch you go off and not assist, and though as I mentioned my normal method of protecting myself from the environment would be too... conspicuous, the Aenyrre Argallenn do provide a solution to the dilemma."
Avrel-Naret concentrated, and the air around him shimmered. His clothing shifted, becoming a skintight black bodystocking-like garment. Small crystals glowed for a second at the neck, wrists, and ankles. Upon his head was a narrow black and gold circlet, and what appeared to be a gold filigreed hair net covered his hair. Small amber crystals likewise were worked into the thin chains.
"This should provide me with protection from both the environment and attacks of many types....oddly more effective the more exotic the attack form is." Around his waist were slung a sheathed Nightblade and a holstered NFD pistol, "Weapons will unfortunately likely be needed as well, and would prefer to bring some means of attack not directly linked to my salient abilities. With all that out of the way I am ready to depart with the rest of you, but we should all remember one thing,,,
"Things may well not be what we expect."
“I myself will be travelling to Asterion. As for the weapons Remus has available to him those that I still know he has and didn’t lose are likely three in number. He firstly uses a strange whip made out of some kind of anti-energy substance like nothing I’ve seen before, likely some ancient design it will drain you and incapacitate you if it touches you. The mans an eccentric but the whip is his pride and joy. The second is a suit of Nightstone which has within its pieces an extremely intricate anti mandala so that many attacks will have little effect on him unless you fight directly. The last is a strange small gem which he acquired somehow which allows him to almost manipulate the fundamental forces in a short distance around himself. I am sure he still has these items, but Arkol should have been more than aware and capable of defeating him with them” She rubbed her chin before finishing her tea.
“Either way those of you who travel to the Limawa peoples we need to know how they regressed Arkols people. I have my theories but we require proof, also find anything that could indicate how Remus killed him, we will need everything we can get in order to finish this.”
Faleka stood up then brushing down her dress and making sure it was nicely padded out. With a small gesture space-time seemed to contort into two knots just ahead of the table, the unmistakable forms of wormholes appearing to form.
“I have taken the liberty for any of you here who cannot easily traverse the distance. I wish those of you going to Arkols tomb good luck, please pay my respects there” She smiled.
House of Asterion: Lost Star
The wormhole had specifically designed not to let the huge amounts of water beyond rush into their idyllic set up that they had come from. Good thing too as the heat, pressure and overbearingness of the surroundings was practically instant. This was the House of Asterion, and it was nothing like most thought it was.
It was dark, extremely dark. The heat was immense and columns of bubbles rose through the darkness as water rippled from the heat of the ocean floor upon which they now found themselves. Only it wasn’t an ocean floor at all, it was a bio mechanical server wrack. The entirety of Asterion was one giant server farm and the huge ocean which sat atop it was there for cooling. The only light nearby came from a sinister orange glow as a canyon of molten salt for cooling purposes wound its way through numerous data stores. All around Fellstavn and Vasitiu maintainers went about their work uncaring of the sudden arrivals, making tweaks or performing maintenance tasks. Their bio luminescence also making them stand out in the pitch black boiling dark.
Falekas dress hung heavy as it soaked with water but the women didn’t seem fazed. She smiled, talking psionically to those who had come with her.
“Welcome to Asterion, or the heart of Asterion. Here this way” She pointed through the darkness towards a large jut of bio-mechanical plastic being attended to by Vasitiu and strange organic tubular worms which clustered around the outcrop as it bellowed heat like an oceanic deep sea smoker.
Xullis System: Ex Limawa Space
Almost as a direct opposite to the conditions deep within Asterion the crowded and extremely dry old city that the group arrived in was almost totally dead and devoid of life. It had been nearly a month since Arkols death directly and the Limawa space, now bereft of its guardian had been ransacked by those pirates and forces who had sought to make a quick credit.
The wind howled in the small street that they stood, sand and grit in the air with almost no moisture as the planets star shone down upon the city. The silver spires that the Limawa had been known for reflected the sun to create beautiful dancing lights that moved with the day but they now seemed hollow, like their soul was gone and that they were only a hollow shell. Given that this city seemed deserted it was very well the case, this had been the capital of the Limawa peoples and home to Arkol himself and yet there wasn’t a soul in sight. But for those who could sense life forms there were plenty nearby and not all were of the same species.
Still Arkols home had been at the centre of the city, a place held in great reverence. The one good thing was that there was no bodies, which made sense, the Limawa hadn’t been exterminated only devolved into what they had been before the uplift. The city held nothing for them now, no grazing opportunities or watering holes just a maze of structures which they could no longer use.
While the howling wind was clearly the only active thing meeting the group the sound of far off jet engines also was apparent. They were not the only ones present it seemed.
Menmuer noted the items as Faleka described them, expecting the obvious possibility that Remus had another item or some other unknown method for dealing with entities such as Arkol. He was quite curious, as the items in question, while impressive, shouldn't have been a threat to someone of sufficient power, unless of course they were psionic.
As Faleka stood up and created her wormholes, Menmuer put his musings aside, deciding to deal with them further when he had more information. Standing, he walked towards the wormhole to Asterion that Faleka had made, following her through into the boiling water beyond, adjusting his buoyancy to be neutral. As he floated in the scalding liquid, he glanced around at the others who accompanied him, while taking in the whole ocean around them with his sense, looking for possible threats as he appreciated both the scenery around them with a neutral smile.
Following Faleka's gesture, he straightened his arms and legs out into a diving position, while manipulating the water around him into exerting directional pressure on his body, quickly propelling him forward towards the plastic outcropping. He lacked the ability to respond to the female entity's message, instead sending a narrow beam of sound at her head, powerful enough to transmit his words but nowhere near even to even try to cause damage "Do you know of anyone who might take offense to our being here?"
XULLIS SYSTEM
La Saña had negotiated the wreckage of the Xullis system, ships, stations and satellites gutted of valuables and left to float as broken debris above a planet newly restored to a primal state. The sensors aboard the aging Hellfire, which had been an Arcadian piece of junk even when new, had been able to tell him they were not alone, but not much more.
Now, his boots crunching on the gritty pavement of what had once been a gleaming city as they walked towards Arkol's former residence, he smiled. Barely a month had gone by and already the wild was reclaiming the city, a few hardy plants winding through cracks and climbing up towers, the occasional animal roaming freely where once there had been busy, industrious citizens. The brutal forces of Xullis were already grinding away all trace of Arkol and his works...
La Saña concentrated. An adept user of matjushi-shu, trained many years ago in the temples of New Paraguay, he reached out slyly, feeling for more details on the distant life forms. Outwardly, he seemed nonchalant, strolling in his new outfit, black leather boots, brown trousers and a bright yellow ruffled shirt beneath a black leather jacket, a broad brimmed hat jaunty on his head.
"Such a beautiful city. Such a shame! How barbaric, to cast down a whole species just to prove a point. What monster would do such a thing?" he mused aloud
The small Dirge fleet, and the Dreamer's bioform latched onto the largest of the craft followed la Sana. The Dreamer departed several minutes after la sana had arrived, allowing him to take the lead while the small Dirge force remained in low orbit above the city.
As she touched down, and the reverberations of jet craft sounded throughout the skeleton of a city, the dirge fleet orbiting overhead spread out, while adjusting their physiology to become hyper specialised in motion tracking, radiation and heat emissions, as well as an immensely powerful set of ocular lobes that allow telescopic vision throughout the horizon.
In response to La Sana's musings the dreamer offered her own retort,
“A man with a complete disregard for life”
While the fleet scattered overhead, the Dreamers form became planted in place, and began to partially fuse with the ground as she focused her perception through her 3 sensor craft. While the other deities explored the city, she would support them from here.
Ridhuan followed Menmeur closely behind, encased in a bubble of protective plasma created by his psionic powers as the scenery transitioned into that of the magnificent ocean servers of Asterion. Through means unknown, he was breathing normally, he himself speculated that the gestalt was keeping his body alive. The bubble itself perhaps was acting as a membrane, an unconscious filter where air was extracted from the raw seawater all around him. Ridhuan wished he could stare more in awe at the very heart of the Ancnet itself, but his soldierly instincts dragged him back from the depths of his long forgotten imaginative past.
"I'm dispatching a few spirits to scout out ahead," Ridhuan extended a hand out. From his Mark, five wisp-like orbs emerged. As they traveled through the water, they morphed into shapes of the local sealife to blend in.
Subtly and unknown to both groups, Jormundgand had simultaneously joined each party, though when was not sure as he did not take the provided transportation the others had used, simply appearing where he needed to be. Both instances of the draconian were identical but did not reflect each others actions. They were both the same irritated looking man in pajamas as before who silently took in his surroundings as the others moved on to their respective missions.
The only action both entities took in both settings that was even remotely identical was holding out their palms to allow several drops of black liquid drop to the ground. The drops only briefly pooled before quickly disappearing into whatever surface they had landed on as each Jormundgand rejoined the other deities and entities
The portal flickered as the woman passed through it, a nimbus of faint light shimmering into place around her. Perhaps it was merely a mirage, but her eyes seemed to burn from within, something unfathomable and inhuman looking out from within.
A slight curl of her hand had a swirling current of water pulling her along towards Faleka even as she swapped the polearm over to her other hand. Alighting smoothly next to her fellow divinity, she looked out towards the server stacks.
"Where do we begin?"
“Yet another race to add to the list, but perhaps they may have records to keep yet,” Osten mused in voice even as his body materialized alongside his peers in Xullis with no care as to what he had just done. All but his halberd had disappeared though, as his focus was on the task at hand, listening in on the ambience of others who had come to scrounge what they could from what was left.
“Perhaps, we should start at Arkol’s former residence? There may be clues yet that the scavengers have yet to collect, or have little care for,” the floating man offered.
Avrel-Naret passed through the portal shortly after Ridhuan. He thought i t more prudent to minimize the level of transdimensional displacement events to confuse potential hostile observers. The borders of the environment around his physical form showed a slight distortion from the phase barrier his battlesuit projected around him to prevent environmental damage, He looked around at the "Ocean" and smiled. "I hope they at least have fish, just wouldn't be the same without them." he said with a chuckle.
Noting Ridhuan's summoning of the spirit essences, he said "That's actually a good idea." Concentrating, he manifested what looked like 4 small fish from his fold storage. Then wisps of blue light came from his eyes and infused the fish, which came to "life" and then swam off, each in a different direction. "There are perks to commanding a Harvester it seems... In any case those will scout ahead as well and also contain technological and technomantic systemry that may be able to gather ELINT on our opponents-Never underestimate the Power of Fish." he said, smiling,
House of Asterion: Lost Star
The muffled sound of Asterion was palpable as the group made their way through water that shimmered in its own heat haze practically near to boiling point. The heat was immense, down here the server stacks ran at full power while the natural ocean method of cooling circulated water and heat to the surface through simple convection currents. Asterion was like a typical ocean, it had stratas each with its own tailored and engineered wildlife, but down here it was the most extreme. Bubbles continued to rise as the gathering neared their destination, Faleka pointing ahead to answer the High Imperium women.
It was a large outcrop, at least 5 stories tall made of congealed and melted super plastics, formed into the shape of a deep sea smoker black thick smoke poured from openings in its form. The smoke had traces of heavy metals and salts, likely excess gasses from the deeper molten salt and metal cooling systems which ran below the surface in the most intense parts of the servers. Tubular worms, or at least, imitations of them crowded the artificial smoker, each one biting at the smoke to clear it of the harmful substances which erupted outwards and ensuring that the outflow of harmful substances did not taint the ocean around it. They were engineered cleaners it seemed. As they reached the smoker the scouting spirits and fish summoned by Avrel-Naret and Ridhuan spread out, searching the area beyond which glowed orange. Just ahead of the smoker was a large canyon, dropping down into the server abyss and with a river of molten metal running through it. Plenty of Fellstavn and Vasitiu scuttled about slowly around the canyon, tending to various maintenance needs. Other than those of the sea floor, they had not yet seen any other Asterion denizen.
To Menmuers comment Faleka seemed to smile.
“I can think of plenty, come” She beckoned them to move. They were heading for the canyon and its myriad of life signs and energy readings. But one stood out, somewhere beyond the canyon something truly gargantuan lurked.
Xullis System: Ex Limawa Space
With the Dirge and La Sanas vessels in orbit, it was very much clear they were not alone. There were 7 other vessels in orbit, each belonging to the same species. The Bolosan Scavengers. Known for their casual disregard of both life and themselves the species mechanically mutilated themselves to improve and scavenged anything they could. They were galactic bottom feeders, scum who cared only for the next scraps. And it seemed they were here on this planet in force.
The sound of engines surrounding the party were from several dropships which circled the area several blocks beyond their own, and they had for now not noticed the rather powerful arrivals. Still the wind howled through the deserted streets as if some final moan of mourning from the city itself. The main thoroughfare was the quickest way to Arkols residence, it was lined with beautiful silver statues which already seemed to have started to abrade in the sandy environment and whipping winds. The mosaic patterns upon which they now crunched too had begun to be piled up with sand and the city now seemed to take on a dull yellowy orange glow from its spires. The sun was setting and while it still looked beautiful as it glinted from the spires this place was a shell.
As they continued down towards Arkols residence things began to change. There were blackened scorchmarks, twisted and distended segments of buildings or the ground which appeared like they had rebelled against physics and there were huge gouged out craters. The damage only became more prominent the closer they got, what had once been an idyllic square in the centre of the city ringed with a garden and with a humble small residence which had been Arkols home, now existed as a blackened site of ruin. Like some atomic detonation had occurred here in ground zero, even the buildings around the area looked near totally destroyed or half collapsed. The apocalyptic final fight of Arkol had happened on this very spot.
La Saña sniffed in annoyance. There was little left in evidence at the site of the battle, although clearly great energies had been expended in the fight. He closed his eyes and reached out, searching for traces of psionic or otherworldly energy, any clue as to what had happened here. The wind picked up, ruffling his shirt and pants, whipping the feather in his hat back and forth.
After a moment he opened one yellow eye and cast a leery gaze at the dropships nearby. "Tch. Pests. Perhaps we should go see what sweetmeats they have discovered, and take them for ourselves. Maybe there will be clues there."
“Champion Ridhuan, possible contact. Big. Just beyond the canyon,” one of the spirits reported. “What are your orders?”
“Hold,” he replied, turning to Avrel-Naret. He had heard of the Singers from their involvement with the AGA in the 2AW, but had never seen or heard much about one until now.
“Avrel-Naret, right? My spirits picked something big just beyond the canyon. Have your fishes detected anything unusual?”
Avrel-Naret looked to Ridhuan and then his eyes glowed a brighter amber in the middle of the blackness. "Aye... Essence fish 3 is reporting a large energy contact. Just beyond this canyon, possible metaphasic variance. I wonder though..." he said to Ridhuan as his eye-glow went back to its normal level.
"Should we send the Essence Fish and Spirits in for a closer exam> Whatever this is it is of a magnitude that it may well be able to detect them. Worse, it may be able to track the spiritual connection back to us. We just hve to balance the risk of exposure to the danger resulting from a lack of tactical intel."
Osten had begun his work too, near Arkol’s residence and where he stood his last. Reaching out with invisible tendrils of his own energies, the man sought to analyze the scene for what had transpired. The fabric of reality had been warped and distorted in this battle, and the ancient being sought to unravel Arkol’s former capabilities and, perhaps, a clue as to what had forced such an entity to his knees to behead.
He only casted a glance at the interlopers on the planet with them. A quick search on the Ancnet brought him the answers he needed, cross-referenced with their technology presently witnessed. One strong match; the Bolosan Scavengers, the lowest of the lows, worthless enough that the Galactic scene did not care enough to mention them nine out of ten times.
“Those are mere bottom feeders. If you wish to pilfer their findings, that is none of my concern,” the floating man merely hummed, as he continued to dissect the scene before him. Every second wasted is another clue lost, and Osten wanted knowledge.
The woman shook her head, her hair drifting slightly in the current. "Avrel is correct. There is a time for caution, and there is a time to be bold. The longer we sit on our hands, the greater the advantage we deliver to the God-Killer and his ilk."
Saying so, she pushed off from the cliff, focusing will into the water to draw energy into herself and generate a current from the temperature differential as she shot off towards the canyon, a building glow of light emanating from her.
Menmuer listened to the others speak as they arrived at the outcropping, but was interrupted in replying by the unnamed woman diving towards the canyon. Speaking through the same method as before, but now in a broadcast faction so that the others could hear him, he replied "I can sense the signature as well. It's cyborg, about a kilometer in size, but it's not alone, there are many smaller things of similar nature around it. I think it prudent to press on, although if we can avoid fighting it and attracting attention, all the better."
Leaping from the outcropping, he once again angled his body into a diving position, manipulating the water to push him forward rapidly, following after the unnamed female being with the polearm.
The dreamer observed her allies as they moved further down, she offered a grin at La Sana's lackadaisical attitude,
"sweet meats... an apt description... I'm not particularly keen on capture, I can extract their memories just as well from the corpses.."
As she turned towards the nearest dropship, her biomass began to quickly shift. Many of her secondary limbs began to flow and ebb into one another, quickly forming a small scale gravatiic accelerator out of the left most portion of her body. The weapon was a sickly crimson red, with flecks of marbled white structure containing the pulsating mass. her legs had split into multiple branching limbs to provide bracing for her newly christened arm,
"You two should take the lead.. I'll follow"
Far above the dirge craft entered a higher orbit, a single of the exploratory vessels began to shift the enhanced ocular organs dissolving and beginning to form the scaffolding for numerous defensive and offensive weapons. Below this, the ocular craft continued to feed targeting information to the dreamer herself.
House of Asterion: Lost Star
As the recon methods had pointed out, the large contact was indeed ahead of them and just as Menmuer had stated it was just over a kilometre long with a large amount of smaller contacts all around it. As the unnamed women and Menmuer now propelled themselves over the orange glowing abyss of the canyon there was a stir within the water, a slight ripple which had emanated out from the large contact.
Avrel-Naret had been right, it had detected them.
As Memuer had made his comment about avoiding it and avoiding to fight it, Faleka merely opened with a broad smile “My friends. This is what, or say Who, we came here for” As they now crossed the canyon to the other side the huge motion of the titanic being made its way over to them, disturbing sea currents as it drew closer, an even darker form which upon getting closer now seemed to have an almost ethereal glow. It was like a huge deep sea leviathan, long and serpentine made to look like the deep sea creatures that attracted others with their pretty lights. As the being came closer it became apparent that it was both organic and not, a strange amalgamation of bio-technology which now regarded them with wary and curiosity. A pearlescent white mask adorned the very top of the things massive head, and it brought it low to survey the individuals before it.
Surrounding the great being also swam many smaller creatures, deep sea creature looking things which swam around or clamped onto the larger being. They acted more defensively, swimming around where the party stood as if on guard.
“My friends, meet Hesione, one of the great beings of the House of Asterion. She is who we are here to see, for she is the VPN for powerful private individuals across the galaxy” Faleka talked via psionics. The surprise was when Hesione answered them all using the same.
”It is a very rare sight to see such guests in Asterions deepest depths. Many years it has been Faleka, who are your guests, and why are you here?” The voice was soothing and angelic but the fact it existed heralded that Hesione was despite the cyborg nature, clearly had a mandala, and a seriously powerful one at that. This artificial being had a soul.
Xullis System: Ex Limawa Space
The Bolosan dropships which were circling the area at high altitude did not seem to notice the Dreamer as it morphed itself into a new form capable of engaging one of them. The targeting data from the Dirge vessel was easily fed down and gave a sighted clear shot to the Dreamer, the round in question which was fired disturbed dust and sand across the whole area as the shockwave spread out, within less than a second impacting one of the dropships and smashing it from the sky. The burning wreck quickly descended to crash somewhere in the city several blocks away, the fiery glow becoming clearer with the encroaching dark.
But while the Bolosan may have had clues within their holds it was the efforts of Osten which gained the first inklings into what happened. The entire area had been of course devastated, but the powers unleashed here and the emotions which had been felt had left subtle imprints which could be observed. It was not a definitive exact picture but it certainly gave them some idea. There was a strong energy residue, likely from Arkol itself, its roiling anger was clear to identify along with several subtle imprints which gave off a sadistic glee, perhaps some kind of assistants of their main target. Remus was also easy to identify as being here with his emotions of elation and relief, likely as a step towards him regaining his title.
But another residue was present too, this one was cold, like a ball of ice which hardly gave off any emotion at all. It also was extremely strong, its residue clearly more powerful than even Remus. Perhaps he had not been alone in this?
Before any deeper analysis could be attained the area rumbled, and wind blew suddenly up and around the area of the residence. An ominious red glow permeating the area.
”You come her-“ ”Death, I will end y-“ ”No more”
The haunted words could almost be heard upon the wind.
Menmuer's surprise at the turn of events manifested on his face A living VPN... now that is interesting he thought, while gazing up at Hesione's great masked face, and continuing to sense the surrounding area. He was pleased that at least so far, the gargantuan being seemed to be a friend rather than a source of conflict, especially given its powerful psionic mandella.
Rotating into an upright position, he floated in place with the others. In answer to her question, he spoke, still limited to mundane sonic communication. "I am Menmuer, Emperor of the Nuclean Ecumene. We are seeking information about one named Remus, who broadcast a message through yourself recently."
Osten blinked slowly as the red glow surrounded himself and his companions. Perhaps there was still valuable knowledge to collect yet, but this would have to suffice. For now.
Remus was certainly not alone. Asides from the simpletons that had assisted the dishonored godslayer’s quest, he had a new piece of information that made this trip almost worth it. A new person of interest, and perhaps one of the more important clues as to what Remus had brought to slay Arkol with.
Or in this case, perhaps, who.
The floating man finally shifted his gaze from the reminder of carnage before them, to the Bolosan vessels, and then to the scarlet aura around them. It felt… familiar. Not unlike the rage and fury he had felt before.
“...Arkol, is that you?” Osten ventured a guess verbally, even as his grimoire appeared from thin air and fluttered open. He would distill this remaining essence, should it be necessary.
La Saña put his hands on his hips, leaning back and staring up into the sky, twisting around theatrically to peer about them. It seemed that Osten was managing to stir something up, and he knew how delicate these things could be, so rather than interrupt he turned to stroll in the direction of the crashed Bolosan vessel, which was close enough that even from the wreckage of Arkol's former home he could faintly hear the crackle of flames from the downed ship.
Enjoying the night air, he turned a corner to see the broken vessel in front of him. He approached it casually, whistling.
"Hello! Anyone there? That crash seemed very violent, amigos. Please lay my fears to rest and let me know you are alright!"
“And I am Lieutenant-Commissar Ridhuan of RANGSI,” he hesitantly said as he eyed the swarm of smaller beings surrounding Hesione, wondering if the artificial VPN would suddenly just get the slip on them. He cautiously pulled back slightly from the group to provide overwatch if things went sour. His blade remained sheathed for the time being.
“A great being of the House of Asterion...things just got interesting Champion Ridhuan…” A voice from the gestalt commented, belonging to XO Kazeher.
As the red glow suffused the area ahead of her, the Dreamer shuddered, unwilling to venture into the site of the death, though that had been her original intent. “This is far from my area of expertise, I'll leave it to you Osten.”
Taking gauge of the scene she decided perhaps her current form was a little much. While she was not adept dealing with esoteric dealings, downing a few more ships and maintaining a tight perimeter should be child's play. Her form seemed to pull into itself, violently stretching, ripping itself apart, splitting down the centre, before thin tendrils of viscera and biomatter began to pool into new limbs. Her physical size had not changed, rather she had made much of her form hollow. Naturally the weapon she held was quickly reabsorbed, the level of firepower not needed again such vessels, and replaced it with something more resembling a contemporary auto-cannon. One of the Dreamer's bodies, Crimson, stalked towards the crash site with la sana,
“Apologies my friend, it appears that I was a little rough with them. Call it first time jitters..”
The Second form, marble, coiled its legs into a tightly wound spring before explosively releasing the pent up energy, within a few quick bursts placed herself directly opposite of Crimson, with Arkol's residence in between the two . Both forms while travelling moved in perfect unison while the craft in orbit continued to feed them targeting information on the scavengers.
Avrel-Naret observed Hermione and her cloud of ancillary entities with both his normal sense and a limited degree of Hypersense, mainly to detect any energy buildups that could indicate potential attack. For the moment though he remained calm and spoke to the massive being in a calm tone.
"Greetings. My name is Avrel-Naret of the Anais Unity. My associates are here at the House of Asterion on what amounts to a murder investigation, we are hoping that you would be willing to assist us in this matter? We bear no ill will to yourself or to the House of Asterion."
He then floated there waiting, 2 of his Essence Fish swimming around him in a much smaller way as Hermione's entities did her, the other two fish were further out, passively scanning for threats. After all, perhaps even Hermione had enemies.
The woman titled her head as Hesione replied, then shrugged in a fluid movement. "A name is unnecessary at the moment and seems superfluous, but as my colleagues say, we are here to uncover further information about Arkol's murderer and the personages behind such, that we might put an end to them before they threaten us in turn. Do you have answers for us or not?"
House of Asterion: Lost Star
Hesione seemed to coil around the group, the great being akin to some deep sea serpent, her white mask and head however stayed perfectly still as her body slowly coiled round akin to a snake. The others, known only as ‘Hesiones Angels’ continued to swim and circle the area, now enclosed Hesione seemed to be intrigued with the group. Bright lights and other dazzling patterns flowing up its massive form, part bioluminescence from the various organic components on Hesiones skin part electrical as the massive power of her body flowed through hyper advanced internal server stacks.
Hesiones body like those of her Angels after all were somewhat transparent, like deep sea creatures the group could ‘see’ into her, the machine and organic components which made up such a massive entity all working in unison, and on the top of her enormous head nestled deep within was the beautiful form of her mandala, glowing with a soft blue light.
"I greet you all to the House of Asterion travellers” Hesione replied to all, the water around them all being warm normally from the under server activity now visibly heating and becoming disturbed by the heat given off by Hesione herself.
“My thanks great Hesione, but my compatriots tell the truth, we are in need of information regarding Arkols death. It is rare that one of our kind is killed, and such a matter is a great disturbance, I have seen that the information related to it has passed through your honourable form. We would be grateful if you would provide us with aid” Faleka added. There was a long pause.
” Arkol. That is a name I have not heard for many decades. I am sad to hear he is gone. But I do not listen to those who pass through my virtual form, it is against my very being. You are aware of my purpose Faleka, I cannot divulge information from the clients who use my great power, it is against my entire existence”
Xullis System: Ex Limawa Space
As Osten spoke aloud the far off emotions of the scene of the devastation changed. Suddenly it was not like echoes which floated on the wind, it was replaced by a sudden pressure, of anger, of dread. The emotions were exceptionally strong, seeking to overwhelm the man as the air shimmered and stuttered.
”You are here to kill me. Perish” It was a whisper laced with extreme venom and hate. Arkol may have died here, but not all of him had departed this realm. A violent red last of energy sprang out of thin air and swept the area that both Osten, The Dreamer and the man in bed robes, aiming to slice them all in half. The attack was one of pure anger and rage, and the air seemed to shift and shimmer with a red tint, like some part of Arkol still lived, still trying to fight against its already met fate.
As the violence of the city now came alive once again the destroyed dropship was scattered across a wide area, the round having torn it apart and the wreckage having crashed into several buildings. Flames lapped up from poorly engineered flight surfaces as La Sana and Crimson found the main body of the craft. None had survived the impact, dismembered Bolosan left thrown about the area partially charred. No calls came in return but the wreckage itself was easy to open up.
The Bolosan seemed to have been scavenging whatever materials they could find, pieces of valuables and other detritus lay about the inside of the ruined craft, but it was inside a large safe which La Sana and Crimson found the prize. A cube, large enough to fit into someone’s hand but engraved with all kinds of unknown markings, it was a box of some kind, and clearly out of place for the Bolosan and this planet.
Cutting delicately through the safe with his hikatana, La Saña picked up the cube. Before he had the chance to examine it, something prompted him to glance upwards and back the way they had came as a ripple of furious emotion, coupled with a red light faintly visible over the rooftops, burst from the direction of Arkol's ruined home.
He paused for a minute, then threw a glance at Crimson. "Maybe they need our help. We should head back, yes?"
As they turned, he casually tossed the cube in one hand, squinting at the details. "I wonder what is inside?" he said, sheathing his sword and taking the box in both hands, applying both physical and psionic pressure to try and open the box or unravel the puzzle that was keeping it closed.
Jormundgand's response to the assault was sudden as his body immediately split apart into a multiheaded trunk of writhing emerald green and red serpents. His reaction was instinct, sudden and effective. With his new form he managed to easily avoid the sudden assault from Arkol's remains. Jormundgand quickly reformed to his seemingly harmless human form, clearly irritated at this sudden distraction. He had always been a god of the physical plane, spectral forces only annoyed him unlike the rest of his draconian brethren. While he was no stranger to what Arkol now was, he did not look to the entity with the same passive interest he had shown previously. The ghost of a supposed god now had his attention.
Unlike with Arkol, back with the group at Lost star the draconian paid close attention to this new entity with a pleased fascination, his golden eyes scanning over the massive coiling form which only reminded him of himself in both form and function. He resisted his urge to "investigate" this entity further, his own way, and let his party continue with their own questioning.
Marble, being closest to Osten and the man in bed robes was subject to the attack. Her weapon was quickly repurposed into a basic magnetic shielding unit, enlarging the acceleration organs within. She held out her hand towards the attack, and 'shed'; the outermost layers of her flesh, forming a layer of suspended particulate. The attack was not entirely blocked, but much of its energy was robbed. She watched the slash penetrate the shielding and split into many smaller vectors. Her hand and arm, formed primarily of the dense bone structure from her previous merged form ablated and fragmented off in a deliberate fashion, allowing the dreamer to control the damage dealt to one of her halves.
“Perhaps that would be wise” Crimson spared a glance towards the object held in La Sana's hand, “If you do not succeed perhaps I may take a crack at it? The weight of my mind has much power to bring to bear.”
Once the particulate had been reabsorbed and the dus5t settled, Marble began to close the distance between her and her other half. Her upper left quarter was shorn off entirely, revealing a hollow phsyical makeup, along with several other 'cracks' that had formed along the rest of her body following the impact. The hollow cavities produces an uncomftorable tone as the wind of the abandoned city passedf through them. Behind Marble, the largest parts of her body began to coalesce into a strange thinf made almost entirely of limbs, collecting itself before trailing behind Marble.
Ridhuan and his psionic bubble vessel ‘floated’ a few steps back upon Hesione’s rejection of their request for information, instinctively putting some distance between him and the giant living VPN. An instinct held over from his old mobster days - when a party rejects an offer 99% of the time no one would walk out of the room without some gunshots, blade parrying and punches.
“Well, well, of course things wouldn’t be so simple isn’t it,” the disembodied voice of XO Kazeher echoed at the back of his head. “You think it’s about time for a fight?”
The monk-commissar’s left hand was just inches away from grasping the handle of his blade, but at the last minute he shifted onto its sheath. “Hesione has a powerful mandala. A fight would be unnecessarily costly. And she likely knows everything we are about to say and think of doing before we do ourselves.”
He gave a look at Faleka, transmitting his thoughts. “Madam Faleka, I hope you have something to offer Madam Hesione here.”
The only sound left in the air after Arkol’s ghostly strike was the reverberation of a chime, echoing through the lost and defunct city alongside the destruction the once-god himself had inflicted. Had Osten been slower on the draw with his glaive to parry the psychokinetic, he would surely be split in two by now.
But his initial surprise had turned to jubilance at such a sight and show. Arkol may be dead, but here his essence was, with consciousness and power to lash out still. The floating figure’s polearm floated from his front to his side, ready should the dead god choose to waste more of his precious life-energy on more strikes.
“Arkol, you have already lost. Remus and his cronies have won, and your people have regressed back to that of mere beasts. Your proud city is no more, your people are no more, and you are no more,” Osten spoke as he pushed with his power ever so slightly, to make a gust of wind to blow the debris, smoke, and dust that obscured the main street. To show what was left of all that the fallen god had made.
“Would you like to take revenge on your killer?”
A smile formed on the edge of his mouth as he bowed to the red mist before him. “I would like to offer you a second chance at life and an opportunity for vengeance, in exchange for your knowledge. My name is Osten, and I am at your service, shall you choose to make use of I.”
At Hesione's declination, the corners of Menmuer's mouth drew slightly downward in a light frown. I suppose I should've expected as much, she is after all, a VPN he thought to himself. Electronics and computing weren't really his specialty, at least outside of a decent understanding of them. That was Cinder's field... who unfortunately, wasn't here. He sighed, reminded of the fact that as much as she sometimes rubbed him the wrong way, the Isoterran leader was quite good at things like this, and there were many times when he was in fact, grateful for her company.
Ending his brief jaunt into reflection, he decided to ask the living computer a follow-up question "Lady Hesione, I understand that your nature precludes you from simply giving us the information we seek. But could you perhaps point us to someone who can help us further? We would be most appreciative"
House of Asterion: Lost Star
Faleka glanced at Ridhuan and shook her head slightly.
”Hesione is above bribes. The fact that she is a VPN means that giving out any information that comes from her is an anathema to her. I came here to get the information, prepare yourself for that” the last part was also sent to Menmuer and Arvel-Naret.
Hesiones great pearlescent mask seemed to ever so slightly move to look at Menmuer before she then spoke. The Angels around her seemed to be somewhat agitated, of course Hesione had enclosed the group in her bulk but the Angels flitted about more actively none the less.
”I thank you for understanding my need for secrecy, a being such as me giving out information would necessitate my self-destruction. That is willingly however. This is not the first time Faleka has come to me for needed information on one of my clients, unless you can somehow break into my very programming you will not find the information you see anywhere else Menmuer of the Nuclean Ecumene. I presume, Faleka you are here for the same reason as last time” The form of Hesione tightened at the mention. Faleka nodded her head.
“I am. I know you wish to help me just as you did last time, but your very existence forbids it. I am sorry for what we are to do my friend” Faleka moved extremely quickly covering herself in bubbles as the water moved with her, a long pink sword of energy appearing in her hands “I am sorry my friends, we will have to subdue her and extract the information we need from her systems, do not kill or cripple her. Hesione is a good friend and an important part of this place”
Xullis System: Ex Limawa Space
The small box that La Sana and Crimson oversaw did indeed seem to be some kind of puzzle box, the strange markings making some sort of pattern which could be pressed to open it. Despite the violence that was now seeming to go down from where they came from this box seemed extremely important. As La Sana slowly pieced together the pattern with help from the Dreamers extension the box clicked open, the top of the box peeling back like a flower to reveal a kaleidoscopic series of colours and sounds and more from within, none of which appearing in the normal spectrum. Words, or rather emotions and instinctual genetic commands bombarded both.
“REVERT. FORGET. DEVOLVE. GO BACK. REVERT. FORGET. DEVOLVE. GO BACK. REVERT. FORGET. DEVOLVE. GO BACK” Over and over again as if it was some kind of command of a powerful being. It was not quite enough to fully overpower the two entities but it would have been more than powerful enough to revert the Limawa in a huge radius. This was how they had crippled Arkols power base and people.
Initially there was no reply from the enraged remains of Arkol, only two more strikes with the psychokinetic power. Another as a long slash aimed at Osten while another was aimed more like a bolt of explosion energy hoping to catch Marble and Jormungand. The force before them lashed out with anger and rage, the energy varying wildly as Arkols extremely fractured form fought to try and undo the very thing that had broken it. It was clear the form was not the full consciousness, it was just a fragment of Arkol left behind due to his immense passing. Still the offer of enacting revenge calmed the entity, at least in a way to cease its attacks.
Remus will burn, he will not succeed, he will perish” was all that was said on the wind, like a whisper which contained all the anger in the universe. Clearly the fragment was not as intelligent as was hoped, but it was something and it was in some way communicating.
La Saña staggered a little as the wave of coercion crashed over him. For a moment he fought it, before consciously rearranging the Eightfold Fence of his mind and allowing it to flow freely through his subconscious, which reveled in the base emotion of the message.
Enjoying the sensation for a moment, he closed the box with a snap and turned to Crimson with a raised eyebrow. "So now we know how they robbed Urkel of his powers. Most devious. We do not want a folderol like this falling into the wrong hands" he said, pocketing it inside his voluminous shirt and turning back towards the flashing red lights.
"It seems our friends are having the fun time." he commented, setting off at a quick stride towards Arkol's former residence, his katana drawn and glowing with scarlet energy.
Menmuer sighed, disappointed that combat was necessary with Lady Hessione. It seemed wrong in a way, to force themselves on another like themselves, in order to gain the information they needed. However, he knew the issue at hand was larger than simply avenging Arkol. #IMAGO had made that clear enough when they had issued their very public threat against those who were beyond normal beings.
He closed his eyes "If this is the way it must be, then so be it" he said, reaching out with his power towards Hessione and her angels. Around each of the swimming 'angels', he froze the water in a large bubble around each, encasing them in a solid sphere of hardened blue ice. These, being less dense than the liquid water around them, suddenly gained a large amount of bouyancy, and would promptly shoot to the surface, isolating the massive leviathan.
Towards Hessione herself, he decided against worrying about grappling control over her, and simply seized the liquid around her, fixing it in place so that she wouldn't be able to move. He hoped that would be enough for the others, as despite his power, he was non-psionic, and would have trouble countering Hessione's mandela without harming her directly.
The psionic detonation took out a great deal of the surroundings, a hailstorm of fragmented roadwork, gravel and dirt clouded the streets. Marble, having a lighter frame between the two, and having already sustained a fracture along her arm, was unable to redirect the force of the impact, and was shattered against the ground. Crimson showed no concern or discomfort towards the secondary lashing attack, having witnessed it before. Lacerations formed on her upper body, but she had already perfected a particulate shield that could ‘break’ the strike and diffuse the energy over multiple vectors. The whisps of blood and viscera the emanated from her body quickly animated and stretched to reconnect to her body.
“It seems like. “ Crimson glanced o the box, constantly attempting to assert its will onto its surroundings, “Keep that thing well hidden. Study it at a later dat. It may be a useful tool we may use to assist in dealing with a threat in future. She broke into a run to return to the main group.
Marble on the other hand had deliberately absorbed the shock of the blast, deliberately forming fault lines within her body moments before the blast, diffusing most of the heat in a thin ablative layer that burned off, While her body fractured and fragmented, the pieces broke along ordained faults, shattering only the large body, while keeping the many smaller pieces in tact,. Quickly they flowed into one another. And began to reform marble’s body.
One of the dirge craft in orbit vectored deeper into the atmosphere. Portions of its grey matter and quantum lattice armor liquified into a psionically charged slurry and dropped from orbit, spitting into two masses to give both of the Dreamer’s representations a larger pool of bio-mass to work with to compensate for their lack of psionic shielding or protection.
The woman looked up at the towering form of Hesione and then over to Faleka. "Perhaps it may have escaped your attention, but engaging a construct like this is not something you can do without damaging it. That said..."
Here, she broke off, and slammed the maranil against the ground, the weapon flaring with sullen light as plasma flowed along the edges, before pooling in the space between the blade. Reaching inside herself to the roiling fury of Her/It/The Star, she tapped the well of power and channeled it. The glow began to increase until it was near blinding, before she leveled the tip of the weapon at Hesione's face.
"...I can improvise." Then the glow sharpened, before a roiling column of plasma lashed out at Hesione from the tip of her weapon.
Ridhuan sighed. The protective bubble around him shrinked, reshaping itself to follow along the contours of his figure. He unsheathed his heat katana, brought its guard where the state emblem was engraved to his face as it was the tradition for all officers to do so when unsheathing the sword and then finally slashing it down to the right, brandishing it for action. His eyes locked onto the Angels surrounding Hesione as Faleka and the High Imperium woman made their attacks on Hesione.
“I will go for the Angels,” his left arm reached out to the nearest one and pulled it towards him with telekinesis with the intent to cut it down when it was in range of his katana.
As Arkol's psychic attack ripped through the air towards Jormundgand the blast began to waver and reshape, narrowing to a point until it eventually faded as it got closer to the now fully alert draconian god. The energy coursed its way into the man's open palm, the center of which had ripped open into a tooth filled bestial maw and split down and through his forearm ending at the elbow like a disfiguring wound. Bones and fingers had cracked and twisted into razor sharp teeth and fangs, muscle shifted into gums and a long slathering tongue, and a thick black liquid gushed from a newly formed throat like saliva. The attack funneled down this new gaping and hungry pair of jaws as though pulled by a singularity, it forced the attack to continue, the black fluid reached out like tendrils, further tightening the unseen grip Jormundgand had on Arkol's assault, creeping up the psionic blast like serpents trying to reach its source as Jormundgand himself snorted and chuckled, a brief glimpse of his true gluttonous self was visible, and he wasnt going to let the disembodied spirit get away from it, forcing the entity's attacks to focus solely on him while the others tried to do their part, lest he do his.
Back with the Lost Star party, Jormundgand's reaction was more subdued as he analyzed the situation. This entity had neither angered him or paid him any attention, which was fortunate as he was unsure if he'd learn anything by consuming this machine other than its physical history. He had never tried eating an AI before and the unknowns weighed heavy on him. Would it be like consuming a soul? Or would he just gain the physical history of the shell it occupied, destroying any valuable knowledge the construct may know. He quietly questioned the possibilities while otherwise ignoring the others readying their own retaliations, staying close to Faleka.