Disruption (IC)

The being that had contacted Wrenon made no reply to his response. However, the Eldraunn could sense that the being's was still watching him, and not just him, but everything occurring within the throne room, clearly interested in whatever was going on; however, Wrenon was the only one in the room able to sense this.

Wrenon had anticipated this particular question from Kradus, and thus had prepared to answer it ahead of time. "In several ways, Lord Kradus," He began to explain, his four eyes glowing ever so slightly brighter under the elegant, intimidating mask he wore. "The galaxy is highly divided, and the numerous factions of Ravena would more than likely tear apart newcomers with technology such as ours. Joining one of these alliances would facilitate our survival - in turn, we are able to share our technology and knowledge." Wrenon paused, considering his options, and after a split second decided to pull a trump card of sorts in regards to convincing Kradus that the Architects should be allowed to join. "The Architects have many... interests within Ravena, some of which align with your own. We seek artifacts that our forefathers created and left here long ago - A blue and a red orb respectively, one of which grants a user infinite energy, and the other, which allows them to be the absolute perfect hunter and killer. I believe you know of them."

Wrenon continued to ponder upon the presence of the being that had communicated with him, and focused much of his immense psionic energy on attempting to observe it. He could not discern much, but wanted to recognize and try to figure out its presence so he could determine its power and influence. Wrenon also paid attention to the other Jadel, Skandalon. He could see the fiery tension between the two. It was perfect for his purposes.

___________________________

"Praedromus, what are we to do now? Abarron has fled, and it appears now that the Eldraunn have returned."

The Vrentus Supreme sat upon his throne, watching as lower forms of Vrenti worked on repairing the Nucleus structure. Abarron had caused much damage to a small portion of it - bothersome, but petty still. "The Eldraunn are not an issue, Protector," He responded, tapping a finger on the side of his seat, causing a metallic echo in the chamber. "Vrentus are designed to combat that which cannot be defeated through traditional means of warfare, and to disregard the hand of death that pulls down upon organic beings forever. I should know this above all else."

"Indeed," The Protector agreed. "We cannot contact Abarron. It seems he has shut himself off to us."

"Leave him be," Praedromus commanded, maintaining his lack of emotion. "He is extraordinarily powerful, but does not have the capacity to truly harm the Collective in a meaningful way. I have already ordered for the Deceiver and Destroyer to relocate the Mind Caches as well as reorganize the fleets. He is only a slight threat due to the information he has, and even that will soon be obsolete."

"I see."

"What of the conversion tests, Protector?" Praedromus inquired, curious. "Has there been success?"

"Yes, my lord," The Prime answered, its thousands of voices shifting constantly. "Tests on Krathunians went as expected. There are genetic differences due to the change in overall demographics, but it is not significant. Jorro'kil results are remarkably similar to that of Krathunians, though this is to be expected considering the relationship between the two species. Ryun are rather unique in that they are more tactically minded during combat situations, which is ideal. We have not collected enough data on Markovans to make a determination." The Protector paused before continuing. "Zraak and Karthla subjects had a greater tendency for hostility and aggression, though the latter was more animalistic in nature. Leprol, on the other hand, are more focused on gathering resources than others. As to our fellow Terminus Pact members, the Mondarian and Samian tests did not yield anything exception, though they both have variables we would like to observe more in the future. The Vil'Nolwikkans, however... The conversion process failed."

Praedromus grew surprised. "How is that possible?"

"We are currently exploring that. Perhaps there is an unexpected genetic differential or some type of nutrient or mineral present. We will continue on."

"Very well."

_________________________________________

((Q'ren stuff later))

Kradus' brow raised. He sat up, but tried not to look too interested. His head tilted slightly and his right claw involuntarily grasped the arm of the chair. The memories flooded into his head... The Orbs... He felt Whoster's blade around his throat, all of a sudden and almost made a move to grab his neck, as though to keep his head from falling off. But he had to keep telling himself that that was all gone. He looked at Wrenon suspiciously. "Your kind made the Orbs? The two things that the Dominion fought for for so many years?" Kradus paused, allowing all of these memories to sort themselves out. "Yes, I remember those... I had a special bond with the Red One...." Kradus eyed his claws, recalling that they weren't his original ones. This was a new, bigger, better body. The present was so much different than the past, yet things still seemed the same. "I did not know the Eldraunn had anything to do with it, although now it makes sense how Amalgus Drangoz knew everything from a simple dream." Kradus smiled. "I'm flattered by your offer, Originator Wrenon. The Dominion is always accepting of new allies. I will approve your entrance to our empire, but I must confirm it with the other empire leaders. The Synod of the Vaurik, Kirmaug of the Zraak, and Chaldeus of the Varmal. Although truthfully my word is what counts, I still allow them a say."

Xej was about to respond when the COM channel flickered to life. The crewman seated at the COMMs relay notified Xej, Xerin and Unsilenced Retribution, who drew near at this beckoning. Kradus's message to the Confederacy flickered to life, and played before them in its entirety.

Both Xej and Xerin watched with rising dismay, and when the message finished, Xej downloaded a copy of it to his armor, and went directly to Lamor's quarters. When he arrived, he found Lamor resting.

He paused, unsure if his friend would ever rest again.

Should he show him the message? It was inevitable that he would see it sooner or later.

Better to let him rest, Xej decided. He turned to leave, when..

"Xej," a weak voice whimpered out. Lamor laid looking weakly at him, but he gained the strength to carry on. He sat up, looking rather tired. "Xej don't go," he added. He paused a moment, allowing the Zealot time to come back, and then continued. "I haven't seen you in years... He... he's returned... how, how did this happen? How did he do this?!" Lamor said painfully. Lamor shook his head. "This cannot happen.... It's impossible anyways, isn't it? We killed him...."

"No.. my emperor did. But I saw his body - what was left of it - burn. It burned into ashes, and the ashes became dust.."

Xej looked down at the floor, considering the effect of the warlord's latest threat on Lamor's morale. He surmised that it would be like making the most dreary of days much, much bleaker. But he couldn't withhold the message from the Dranzoot. No, Lamor was also his equivalent, a Zealot of the Dranzoot peoples. He would bolster his spirits, and continue onward. Xej suddenly found himself wanting this. To be a Zealot, one had to give up the right of self.. for the good of the people.

Xej sat down on a bunk, and replayed the message to Lamor via a holo-projector in his wrist armor.

Throughout the beginning of the transmission, Lamor's face eroded dark content. His brows thoroughly knifed and his eyes like hot coals, yet colder than ice on his dark grayish purple face. His tipped ears fell down, flattening horribly at the sight of the leader of the Dominion. Then Alyna came into screen and his eyes softened, watering up like rain clouds and his ears unflattening and instead drooping heavily. His lips trembled and he covered his maw with his hand, fearfully. He blinked as the transmission ended, removed his hand, and sat in silence for the longest time.

"Xej..." Lamor said, looking up. It was already clear by the way he was looking at the Zealot that he wanted him to trade himself in. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... but we owe our lives to that family...."

Xej slowly turned his head to look at Lamor, an expression of slight bewilderment on his avian features.

"Surely my hearing is deceptive. You.. can't think this would benefit us.. to hand me over for.. what? The ruler of an enslaved people? And what can she do? Why would you be so quick to hand me over to him? You know too well what he would do to me.."

Xej stopped, remembering what Alyna had said in the final moments of Kradus's message to the Confederacy.

"Is this.. about Alyna?" The Zealot looked into his friend's eyes. "What are you to her? What is she to you?"

"Don't you know that as Zealots we forsook our personal affections to serve a higher calling?" Xej said in a low tone.

"You may have to watch those you care for die.. just as I have."

Lamor's eyes seemed to thicken with harshness. His teeth gritted as he sat up. "I would die myself before I would watch people like her die. I don't care what would happen to me or if it gained nothing. I owe every ounce of my being to her father and I know that he would want us to save her. Besides, the Dranzoot might not be enslaved if the Confederacy actually helped them... I know that we couldn't be there when you needed us, but with the Karthla being released from Dominion control could you blame us? They grew twice as powerful having not been limited by their parental empire, and it just so happens that they took up base right in Dranus' neighborhood. I'm just disgusted with the Confederacy that they're holding a grudge like that, that they're just making things worse for my people. It doesn't matter if I have feelings for Alyna, it doesn't matter how much I may care for her. What matters is what we all owe to her father. Without him we'd be dead and Kradus would have won. You know that and you're afraid to admit it." Lamor snarled. "But it's disgusting that the Confederacy chose to save me of all people, rather than the empress, the actual leader of the people. Did you only save me because I was once so close with you and the Confederacy? Is the Confederacy really this selfish now? I know that things weren't this way when Amalgus Drangoz was around...."

"You lack a proper understanding of the situation." Xej said, trying to keep his anger from rising. "We were on our way to Irooscin. This detour to Dranus was the only thing that saved you, and you are only alive because I found you. We did not come in numbers, just this ship. Your world is falling to ruin, and not even we could have prevented that."

Xej paused, choosing his words carefully.

"As for your claims of a grudge, they are misplaced, and perhaps ironic. Your people sat in the darkness, never reaching out for help, only assuming that we had betrayed you to the Karthla. We, in turn, were too busy fighting a war with a malevolent intelligence to seek the Dranzoot out. Your entire isolation was based on an assumption. You have no one to blame but the incompetent leaders of your empire."

Xej looked down at his left hand, clenched it once, and then released it.

"Amalgus Drangoz was one piece of the puzzle of the Dominion war. An integral piece, yet strange.. I still don't understand how or why he received that dream. You also forget the Red Orb, the perfect counter to the Blue, which we discovered by less.. enigmatic means."

Incompetent leaders.

After holding back for several moments, honorably allowing Therus to finish his speech, Lamor took to his feet angrily. He was very weak, but his rage pushed him to stand. His fists clenched. "WITHOUT HIM YOU'D BE THAT LIZARD'S FOOD! HOW DARE YOU DIMINISH HIM?!" Several Dranzoot curse words followed that Xej likely wouldn't know, as most Dranzoot that entered into the military had clean mouths. "YOU HITHIR!" Arius shouted. He calmed down for a moment, trying to resist the urge to pound into Xej. "What happened to you... how can you be so heartless... This is Drangoz we're talking about... how can you even say such things without hating yourself? Don't you remember how much he cared about both of us? How much he even cared about Xonoc and Whoster?" Lamor's face tightened again. "But speaking of incompetent leaders, let's not act like Xonoc is smart or anything, or he would have seen all of this coming."

"If" Xej started, "you could understand the incredible weight of ruling an empire - neigh, a segment of Ravena itself... you would not make such a flippant remark. But instead, your mind is set on her, isn't it? Too distracted to continue the fight. Maybe we should leave you behind?"

Xej stood, clenched his mandibles, and tilted his head to face Lamor.


"To be consumed by rage.. and anger.. and regret... is something so terrible... You've given up before the fight has even begun, haven't you? There are others ways to fight, but you want to take the easiest road? But the road to victory is narrow, and few may find it. So, let us find it. Or, sit here and wallow. Your choice."

Lamor restrained himself again, looking angrily at Xej, glaring deep into his face. His tipped ears twitched angrily. "I hate you," he said, his pupils shrinking within his orange irises. "Why can't you just cooperate with me and pay this debt you owe...." Lamor's teeth gritted. The tall, muscular Dranzoot adjusted his position and tilted his shoulder at Xej, menacingly. "You know nothing. You think you're some great being, some creature of high standing with more wisdom than the rest of us. Kradus has us both beat in intelligence, you should know that. He'll expect a rescue mission rather than a trade-in. You and I both hate to admit it but it's obvious he's more cunning than anyone thinks, or he wouldn't be alive right now. He planned this. He must have. He might have even planned his own death!" Lamor said grabbing the underside of the bed he had been resting on and throwing it across the room in rage. His eyes blazed to Therus. "You can't just accept this... can you? You wouldn't know what it's like. You don't know what it's like to care about someone, because all of your life you've been an emotionless drone. You're just a pawn. Not only to the Confederacy, but to the Dominion as well. Kradus knows you too well. He can predict you so easily... How else did he manage to get the Red Orb? The only reason he couldn't get the Blue One was because of that Acirian that interrupted the fight." Lamor turned away. "But I haven't lost sight of things overall. I haven't focused all my sight on her... You know nothing..." Lamor finally tightened his grasp on a metal table that held several pieces of medical equipment. "But you'll know that this is the way it must be," and with a shout he threw the table hurdling towards Kradus.

Xej's blade was ready in an instant to sever any obstacle in the Zealot's way, and yet the table did not reach Xej, but crashed pathetically to the ground. Lamor was still too weak to be a serious threat. Still, Xej's mind lingered on what Lamor had just spoken. The truth of it stung. Kradus was extremely cunning, to the point that it took an entire crew of the best soldiers to even come close to defeating him, and without the help of an outsider even they could have failed.

Another thing stung him, too. It was the blatant lie which claimed Xej to be a mere machine.

That wasn't true. Not always. This fallacy kindled Therus's rage, and he turned his blade on his friend, pointing it at Lamor's neck.

"Do you want to die?" He asked.

Lamor paused, eventually stumbling back against the wall. Tears streamed from his eyes, and a nearly crazed laugh flew from his maw. He slid down ever slightly, laughing. But it was not any amused noise. It was oddly somber and the laugh carried a thousand tears. He looked back up at Xej, desperately. "Please," he said with a shakiness to his words. "Please kill me. Please." Lamor looked defeated by his sorrow. It was obvious he was not in his right mind at the moment. He wanted it all to end. Having lived with the Drangoz family and protecting them as their head guard for ten years, they had become like his own family. It was crushing to see any of them go.

“Our priority at the moment should be to get the Continuum Corrupter working,” Abarron stated, nodding towards Q’ren. “That weapon was highly effective against Vrentus, I can only imagine its capabilities against Eldraunn given the nature of their attack. However…” He hesitated, thinking over something quickly and his head turning as if he were observing the room. “It would be as if we were fighting fire with fire.”

All three Krathunians present had a puzzled look upon their faces. “What do you mean?” Theranis asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Is it not obvious after seeing the Architects in person? The Wanderer?” Abarron questioned. “They created this. You Krathunians were but their conduit. The Anomaly was a tool to open the Gateway. A key, if you’d like to be poetic.”

“That’s not possible!” Q’ren spat. “I designed this ship and everything within it. It is my creation, and mine alone - nobody else can lay claim to it.”

“Delve into your memory,” Abarron replied, speaking calmly. “Who was present when you conceived the idea, physically and mentally? What of when you created it?”

Q’ren paused. “He was…” He whispered, diverting his eyes to the ground. “Even if your theory is correct, Vrentus, I don’t understand how or why the Eldraunn would do this specifically. It seems too… Intricate, complicated. There’s too much room for failure. There are still many unanswered questions, as well… For example, why was I the one to do this?”

“You had potential,” The heavy, reverberating voice of the Wanderer sounded out from the shadows. From the hall leading to the bridge, obscured in a shroud of darkness, came a swirling mass of gray dust imbued with blue energy. It appeared to be some sort of Eldraunn construct, but of what nature, none could tell.

“What are you?” Theranis growled, raising his assault rifle.

“I am an artificial intelligence,” It said. “My programming was created to mirror the mind of him who you knew as the Wanderer, Ulthaxus. We are one and the same, but also very different.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t destroy you right here, Architect.” Abarron questioned, his gauntlets beginning to hum and glow red.

“Technically, I am powered by the psionic power of Ulthaxus,” It explained. “When he is killed, I die soon after. These are my last minutes, my final moments, and I would like to give them a purpose.” The swirling matter condensed slightly, as if growing weaker. “Ulthaxus and I were left behind in Ravena after the invasion of the Architects failed with the sole purpose of returning them to this place. He was to propagate this, and I was but his helper. He was put into a form of cryogenic sleep while I observed the galaxy and created a plan. Throughout this time and as I learned more, I grew to be sympathetic towards your species and civilizations. In this sense, I differ from Ulthaxus. Where he saw mere tools to be utilized, I saw many variables that ultimately make up a galaxy full of people that should not simply be destroyed. The Architects are hegemonic and oppressive. I would like to see their demise, either for the purposes of collecting more data without subjugation or because of the way my personality has developed… Or as they would saw, been corrupted. Though prior to the return of the Eldraunn I was bound to my purpose, now that it has been accomplished, I am free to pursue what I believe my true goal is - Aiding you in protecting yourselves. Though I will soon perish, I hope that I will be able to help you sufficiently as to save you from a worse fate than many can imagine.” The mass of dust and energy floated slowly towards Q’ren. “I must give you a message before I am drained of psionic energy. I must ask you to close your eyes, and attempt to empty your mind. This process may be painful, but it serves a purpose. It is to inform you, and to warn you of what is to come.”

Q’ren nodded. “I understand.” His eyes closed tightly. “Let’s do this.” A stream of energy flowed from the AI and onto Q’ren’s head. He felt a warm sensation at that location, and in an instant, found himself to be within a dream or vision of sorts.

He stood on the surface of Kvanun, before it had became a shield world. It was a clear day, and the binary suns in the deep blue sky was quite a sight to behold. Stretching before the Krathunian was an immense rolling plain of snow. In the distance, massive mountains that his species would have been highly accustomed to loomed over the landscape. The wind howled, picking up particles of snow in its path. Q’ren observed this area with a sense of awe. He felt at home. At that moment, he saw it. Another Krathunian, a child, wandering the plains. He wore light metal and leather armoring, made for a juvenile, and held a hardlight rifle that was almost too large for him. Q’ren could instantly recognize his younger self, and a growing feeling of dread accompanied this realization, as he knew what would come next. Suddenly, in front of the young Krathunian materialized an immense glowing sphere of energy. The child backed away fearfully, staring at it with wide eyes.

“No!” Q’ren yelled out, reaching his hand out towards his former self. The child turned towards him, his eyes now the same shade as the sphere in front of him, and smiled. The sound of the Wanderer laughing echoed throughout the plains as the younger Q’ren took aim and shot the elder several times in the chest. He shouted in pain, clutching where he had been shot, the blood pouring out through his fingers and drenching the snow dark red. Despite this, he could not help himself from watch as the Wanderer, Ulthaxus, emerged from his orb of energy, and put a hand on the shoulder of the young Q’ren. Moments later, the sky darkened drastically as the shield of Kvanun began to appear, blocking out the suns. The ground cracked, and from it came fire, enveloping the entirety of the plain aside from where he knelt. The Wanderer was enveloped in psionic energy, and this dispersed from his body and came together in close proximity to Q’ren.

From it the Anomaly itself was formed in front of his eyes, and the Wanderer’s ominous voice blasted across the fiery plains, “This is the beginning of the end, Q’ren, for all of Ravena.” Q’ren screamed as he plunged into darkness, and soon found himself on a circular silver platform. The landscape around him was pure emptiness, devoid of all life and other existence. Suddenly, another Krathunian appeared in front of him, dressed in a cloth dress-like garment. She was turned away from him, but was audibly crying. Q’ren immediately recognized her, and placed a hand on her shoulder, to which she tensed and lowered her head.

“Kalyve…” He whispered softly. “What is the matter? Why are you crying?”

“You…” She responded quietly, shaking. “You’ve changed… I can’t watch as you become…” A blinding flash of light came forth from her and Q’ren turned away for a second, stunned. When he looked back, the Wanderer floated in front of Kalyve, who continued her cries of misery, as if grieving.

“There is so much more for you to learn, Q’ren,” He spoke in his ominous voice. “Of the true nature of this realm. The Architects are above your lesser whims. Our will is that of the universe. You have the choice to resist, but know that it is vain.” At this moment, a heavy duty pistol appeared in Q’ren’s hand, out of nowhere. His arm was raised by an unknown force - All that he knew is that the motion was not his doing.“Do you choose to defy existence, Krathunian?”

“I do,” Q’ren growled, and with that, he pulled the trigger. As the bullet travelled through the air, the Wanderer vanished, and the projectile found a new target. Kalyve looked up with great shock at him, blood soaking her clothing. “No…” Q’ren whispered, dropping the weapon. Moments later, the platform disappeared from under him, and he felt himself pulled into the all consuming void. He fell for what he perceived as an eternity, and felt as if he were trapped. Despite this, gradually change occurred. Pieces of his current armoring replaced that which he had been wearing, and a hardlight assault rifle materialized in his hand. When this process was complete, he suddenly found himself to be standing in the center plaza of the Ra’anian, where he and the crew of the Anomaly had searched for the first piece of the Continuum Corrupter. However, Sethega was different. Rain fell heavily to the ground as opposed to the normal snow, though it made no sound as it crashed down around Q’ren. The immense buildings were desolate and dark, as if they had been abandoned, and the Krathunian could not identify any other source of light besides that of his own armor and some amount of moonlight that broke through the cover of dark clouds in the sky. Everything was ominously silent, and to Q’ren, it was almost deafening.

Suddenly, an orb of blue light and energy appeared, and from it emerged an Eldraunn, though not the Wanderer. It seemed to have more basic armoring on, though it was doubtless just as dangerous. Without thinking, Q’ren raised his rifle and fired several rounds directly at the Architect. The sound of the gun pounded into his ears as the bullets impacted his enemy, spraying luminescent cyan blood where they hit. However, the blood did not seem to be effected by gravity - It remained in the air where it had burst out initially, even as the Architect fell. Three more appeared, all of which suffered the same fate.

Seconds passed before something else entirely began to occur. Q’ren watched as the already glowing liquid, mysteriously suspended in air, began to glow more fiercely and moved, combining into a swirling orb at the center of the square. It exploded outwards, revealing another Eldraunn, but one completely unlike the others. Q’ren could feel an aura of power far surpassing that of the Wanderer - It seemed to put immense amounts of pressure on his body, as if an ocean were above him, the huge body of water pushing down constantly upon him. Without it having said a thing, Q’ren immediately knew the Eldraunn’s name - Wrenon.

Wrenon moved closer to the Krathunian, and reached out with a hand, saying, “And here, upon this planet, you shall know my power, and that of the Architects.” A shockwave blasted outwards, knocking Q’ren to the ground, where he lay for several seconds. When he got up, three more surged outwards from a new source, a strange beam of light going from the sky to the ground. The first and second tore the buildings and environment of Sethega to dust, which hung in the air like mist, and the third settled it to the ground. A new landscape lay before Q’ren, a desolate, never ending plain of black soil. The ground cracked open around him, blue light pouring outwards from each. Before the vision ended Q’ren could see one final, enormous entity rupturing the earth ahead from below, as if a mountain were forming.

With that, he opened his eyes, to see that the Wanderer’s AI had completely turned to dust, having used its last bit of psionic energy to warn Q’ren in the appropriate manner. He sighed with downcast eyes, only mustering the energy to whisper something inaudible to the others.

__________________________________________________________________

“Thank you,” Wrenon replied. “I am glad that you have accepted our offer. Is there anything else you wish to know, Lord Kradus?”

__________________________________________________________________

It was at this moment in the fight that Svar, who had been listening silently at the door as tensions between Xej and Lamor had arisen, casually opened the door and strode forward towards the pair. He first approached Xej, forcefully grabbing the sword from the Jorro’kil’s grip and collapsing it. Svar then briskly walked to Lamor and effortlessly lifted him into an upright position. “Both of you need to stop,” He growled in a serious tone. “Do neither of you not see how counterproductive this is?”

Admiral Lirr looked down at the pile of dust where the AI had disintegrated, and then looked expectantly at Q'ren. He frowned as the Krathunian whispered something.

"What was that?" he said. "What did that thing show you?"

"Steady, old fellow," said Zizo raising a hand at the Markovan. "Let him breath. Whatever it was, it looks like it tuckered him out quite badly."

Kradus' scarlet eyes blinked once before he replied. He was silent a moment or two, pondering everything. He then stood. "I am sure we will have much to talk about later, Originator. Although at the moment I am due elsewhere. I will discuss this with the leaders of the other Dominion empires. I look forward to this partnership, Wrenon," Kradus said as he turned and began moving down the winding stairs that led up to the terrifying throne and while checking over his shoulder to ensure nobody was watching, slid his index claw down a crevice in the wall, causing it to glow bright red. The surrounding wall then combusted silently into small shard of black glass magnetically floating about in the air, exposing a hole in the wall. Kradus stepped through the huge opening and the shards replaced the wall again afterwards. As he now found himself in a large dark tunnel he began walking forward. Just beyond were secret tunnels to Kradus' private living quarters, which had obviously remained untouched even ever since his firs death. It was unlikely the Leprol ever knew about this chamber. Nobody, not even the citadel's builders knew of it. It was constructed by droids who were afterwards destroyed by Kradus himself. Therefore, all of his things were still in place, just as he left them. Beside the path that led to his living quarters were three other paths that acted as emergency escape routes. Another led to a private torture chamber, prison bank, and several other levels. An entire chain of floors that nobody ever knew about.

Kradus stepped through a large door, which took him to an elevator. The elevator slipped sideways through its cylinder and into another, moving upwards into the public elevator tube. It stopped just as it reached the hangar bay, where a huge craft sat waiting to be undocked. Kradus approached several Zraak Royal Guards, all wearing silver armor and black capes while carrying large black spears with explosive tips. Vekoni, who had obviously been treated medically, was standing at the open maw of the huge C-shaped ship. A red glow came out of the landing claw and fell over Vekoni, giving a dire appearance to the pink-eyes Zraak Governor. Shancar limped his way out from the ship, being supported by a bio-suit meant to help him maneuver while he still suffered the injuries dealt by Svar. He stepped aside, opposite Vekoni, making way for Kradus. The Jadel stepped through respectful lines of royal guards. They were line up on either sides of the path leading to the mouth of the ship, with their spears slanted over their shoulders as a respectful gesture as he stepped passed each of them. He stopped when he came to Shancar and Vekoni.

"What did they find?" Kradus asked.

"Ruins from quite a long time ago. Turns out there was something we skipped over ten years ago when we last inspected Maful," Vekoni said. He looked anxious to say anything else to the hulking Jadel.

Kradus' eyes narrowed. "Like what?" he asked, beginning to wonder what the situation was. The red light cast over his features seemed to frighten Vekoni slightly.

"We found... Loccalians..." Vekoni whispered. Kradus' eyes lit up with shock. He immediately darted up the thick ramp and into the ship. Shancar, grumpy from his wounds, gave Vekoni a tired look and limped pessimistically back into the ship, followed by Pink-Eye. The royal guards collapsed their order and followed into the ship in single-file. The ramp closed, the soldiers surrounding the ship saluting with their arms crossed over their chests as the ship lifted and soared out of the hangar, accompanied by so many fighters and war ships that one viewing it would merely think it was a large black cloud. The ships lifted until they were fleeing the atmosphere of Cilask and meeting the blockade of ships and stations floating about the outside of the planet. Quickly they docked aboard a huge craft unlike most of the others. A Royal Invader. It had been ten years since one of these ships had been spotted in Ravena. They were massive and held millions of fighters. A regular Dominion Invader was bad news for a planet, let alone several, or in this case, a Royal Invader. Ten times the trouble that a regular Invader could cause. It was obvious though that these ships were unlike the one present in the previous war. They had been heavily augmented with weaponry from allied races. Zraak technology, Vaurik technology, Varmal technology. There were even some Dranzoot ships docking in them now. These Invaders were likely stollen by large assemblies of rebels and taken into deepspace, where they would hoard over them until their master would return.

Everyone who was loyal to him knew in their heart, even though Kradus was dead, his Legacy was not yet perished.

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The Royal Invader emerged from hyperspace, followed by a collective of other cruisers and ships. They simply moved forward slowly, watching the world below them. It was a surprisingly massive planet, powerfully collecting a dark red atmosphere, to the point it was nearly black. A host of landing ships strode from the docks of the Dominion ships and began storming towards the planet at an alarming rate of speed. The planet itself looked to have black terrain, or at least darkly colored terrain. It's atmosphere was densely clouded with thick, dark bulges of cloud. As the ships tapped down on the ground, just upon the faces of several hills where the forests had not devoured, Kradus felt his heart sank. He had come home again.

The ramp cascaded down and his foot touched the dark gray soil of Maful. Huge red flowers adorning the briar bushes and the black-troubled trees all around. He recognized that flower. The Syllai. It was a flower filled with a highly poisonous nectar which only Jadel were known to be immune to. He remembered everything, memories pouring in all of a sudden. Visions of the nectar flowing into various glass containers of elegant juice slipped into his mind. He walked forward, flanked by Vekoni and Shancar.

"This was your home?" Shancar asked, looking up at Kradus. The giant did not reply for a moment. His eyes were wide, his pupils small, and his face looking nervous. He nodded, trying to suppress the awful memories. Shancar took a look around at the hideous plants. They were huge and embellished with thick spikes and thorns and luminous red organs. "That explains a lot..." Shancar mumbled under his breath. Kradus looked at Vekoni.

"Where are the ruins?" he asked.

"This way," Vekoni said, eyeing a holographic map that emitted from a brace along his thorny arm.

The plains were dark. The forests were doomed. All throughout the gray and black soil of Maful things were only frightening. The world was dark, unlit, an awful. It was a wonder how anything as peaceful as the Mafulian Theocracy could have come from all of it. But as Kradus began walking through the forests Vekoni and Shancar noticed that he seemed far less tensed. They looked at each other after watching Kradus breathe in the Mafulian scents and sigh blissfully. Kradus dabbed the Syllai flowers with his claws, fingering them and taking the nectar out from within. He lifted the glossy scarlet nectar to his reptilian lips and took a tongue-full of it, tasting a sweet sensation. Odd how toxic the juice was to others. But it gave him a nostalgic sense. This flower was one thing to him: Power. But it also may have been Hope, to him. It offered a sense of "everything's going to be okay," to him and was rather therapeutic. The scent was an aroma that filled him with a wonderful sensation. Shancar eyed the flowers beside him.

"These are Syllai flowers," Shancar added. "The symbol of the Dominion."

Kradus nodded. "The only reason we are here today," Kradus said as he walked away from the flowers. Vekoni looked puzzled, following the overlord.

"What do you mean?" Vekoni asked. Kradus did not respond. He merely eyed the black roots coming out of the ground and the beautifully malefic black and red luminous crystals that broke the earth. He slid his hands across a glowing red root stretched over a rock. It was obviously hot liquid at one point, but hardened and never lost its chemical glow. It stretched out of a huge crystal that Kradus spotted at the top of a large hill. It was cracked an busted and a huge amount of the hardened glowing liquid had dripped down from the hill and stretched all across the black-leafed forest.

Kradus stepped across a creek which gushed oddly colored water. In some places it appeared iridescent, almost emerald. In some places it seemed more scarlet. Kradus took a handful of the water and tasted it. The excess dripped from his chin. He licked his lips and let out a refreshing sigh as he leaned upon a rock against the creek. "I forgot how refreshing Maful's waters were." He looked at the others. "Drink, you will never find sweeter waters anywhere else." He then eyed the squad of soldiers who were bubbling around them. "You drink too," he said. Each soldier took a turn drinking the water. They would not do so all at once and risk losing formation. As the group bounded over a hill, something jumped out from the bushes at them.

Kradus, instinctively, activated a long particle blade throwing out from his arm. It was a resonating red and matched the environment perfectly. The soldiers lifted their guns and shot several warning shot around this new creature, but Kradus immediately held his hand up, ordering them to stop. He collapsed his blade as he inspected before him the scrawny, primal Jadel. It's horns were just beginning to mature and it's scales were growing thicker they were slightly gray in coloring. It's eyes were a pale and foggy yellow. The Jadel had long claws, although they were frail. But nobody's claws were as long as Kradus'. The Jadel was a bit scrawny and was just beginning to get its muscle tone. Obviously male by the positioning of the horns and the evident lump under the tail which was covered by a rag that was tied around its waist. It carried with it a spear that was wired sloppily around the tip. Kradus knew that once it punctured something, it would emit an electric shock. Kradus himself was amazed.

"Hello there," Kradus said, crouching down to look at the Jadel at eye level. Even on one knee, Kradus had to bend his head down lower. One hand rested on his upright knee, the other on the ground. His long black garments clothed around his neck and flew down behind him like a cape, resting against the black dirt. The creature seemed as though it only halfway comprehended what Kradus had said.

"Heli," it said. It obviously had not been taught much of the Loccalian language. Kradus figured there was a tribe nearby of Jadel who are descended of war survivors and reverted back to the old ways.

"Gath'gathzurn, alakath al ei shnaask vnin," Kradus said. The creature seemed to understand the greeting. It began speaking in Mafulian.

"Who are you?" it asked.
"My name is Kradus."
"What... what are you?" the creature asked, confused by Kradus' oddly enormous size and his augmented appearance. Scales blacker than a normal Jadel's, eyes a deeper red, and horns far bigger than the norm. He smiled.

"What do you think I am, friend?"

"You... you're Malaa-Men..." the Jadel said. He backed away, fearfully, tears welling up in his eyes. "Please! Don't hurt me! I'm sorry! I am a sinner! Please just spare my life!"

Kradus stood up, towering over the Jadel. "Do not worry, you are too young to die. Malaa-Men has not come to kill today. Rather it has come to seek something out in this world."

The Jadel looked slightly less afraid of the beast. "What do you want, my great lord?"

"Where are your people?" Kradus asked.

The Jadel pointed south. "One thousand of us, underground." Kradus' eyes lit up, he looked at the others and repeated it in Loccalian, allowing them to know. Kradus looked at the Jadel and nodded, smiling.

"I shall come and see them this evening. Go and warn them that their god is coming for a visit. If they do not believe you, tell them to go to the White Outskirts and find many demons playing about a holy vessel," Kradus said, obviously referring to the ships and the Zraak soldiers guarding them. He then looked at the others and repeated once more in Loccalian. "He thinks I am the god Malaa-Men. We will visit them this evening after we have taken care of the business in the north. For now, contact the fleet and tell them that if they see native activity, do no harm."

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They had reached the ruins. It was obvious why he had not found them before. A dark chasm, an opening beneath a waterfall that bled red water. Blue metallic operative spines curled around the walls of the cave before them. Kradus' anger began to flare up like a fire. The soldiers flanked him on every side, prepared I defend him from what may come. Vekoni and Shancar waited outside with one or two guards because they were still unfit to fight. There was something snaky about the tunnel. It spoke the word 'unnatural'. Kradus stepped forward, going deeper into the Loccalian tunnel. The air grew thinner and thinner the deeper he got. The soldiers had to place bio-masks over their heads. Kradus simply adjusted the power and properties of his lungs.

Quickly they descended into a mad labyrinth of technological anomalies. Strange devices that only Kradus would be able to identify, from his past life working on them as a slave. In thick, fiery anger, Kradus commanded the soldiers stand back. They did so without protest, living in the fear of the shadow of the tyrannical giant. Kradus' throat swelled and his scales began to steam. He opened his maw and with a horrible war cry fire blazed out and swallowed the halls of the Loccalian base. The dark corridors sprung to life with the light of Kradus' fire.

__________________________________________________________________

"It was dark, cold. I could only see a dim light breaking over the horizon. I felt it all around me. The presence of that... thing. I don't even know what it is anymore. I'm too far gone. Now it's numb and I'm taken. All in an attempt to stop the very thing I created.

He knows who I am. He knows. He knows what I'm doing, where I am, how I got here, all I am. Everything about me. He knows everything. I don't even know what he is now. He's not even a machine anymore. I just wish I knew what went wrong along the way. What was the flaw that led to this? This... chaos. So many have died. We are nearing our final numbers.

I have the Jadel to thank for shelter tonight. They've allowed us to stay on Holoth-5. We aren't allowed to stay in their camp. We have to remain outside at all times. Entering hibernation is rough out here in the rocky terrain of this world. My bones ache. My skull hurts. My thnúthcr is bleeding. I can only hope that that's not any sort of indication that I have brain damage.

He's out there. I can feel it. He's done something to me. My mind just hasn't been the same since I got off of Pholaurm. I know he's waiting. And I know he's watching me... Somehow.

Primitus. Forgive me for failing you."

-----Vulchus Vorm, Nexar Archives

***

In the deepness of space hovered a peculiar site. A tall craft, larger than any normal vessel. An enormous station that was suspended just above the surface of a ruined world. There were billions of pieces junk metal floating in space just around it. The spiral station was an enormous sight to behold. A Loccalian craft called the Primecluster, or the Onestar. It was never destroyed because of fear of what was inside. The surrounding races decided it was safer to leave it lay there rather than awaken whatever was inside.

But others did not listen to this reasoning. A collective of crooks, vandals, bandits, and all shades of outlaws had moved in and used the station as a sanctuary. It was the only place no one would ever chase them. Authorities would turn the other way when they saw Locce, and it's webbing of scrap metal polluting its atmosphere. War damage material from four, maybe five hundred years ago, still floating around.

The outlaws were engaging in their usual sinful activities within the Onestar. Gambling, partying, theft, violence, and all forms of atrocious behavior took place within the Crux, a large done room where Loccalians once gathered, now used by the outlaws for their own hideous pleasure. The work of this crime and lawlessness happened around the clock. Every hour someone was beaten, every minute things were stolen, and every second someone was violated in some way, shape, or form. The nastiest, most perversely screwed-up naughties were here. The Crux was protected by a field of chemicals kept in place by a particle bubble. This gave them life support, sourced from one of their machines (which they kept hidden to avoid damage) since the ship was completely defunct.

Or so they thought.

Suddenly, the ship sprung alive. The lights blasted on, the machines rose up, and every technological aspect of the ship powered back on. Strange blue auras surrounding them, their makeup beyond the comprehension of the crooks. Quickly a holographic projection of the Dark World Maful appeared overheard. Orange indication spreading over several areas of the planet's surface, but mainly pointing to one place in particular.

"DISTRESS SIGNAL RECEIVED FROM THE AWAKENER. BEGINNING AWAKENING PROCEDURE" A loud electronic voice blared.

The doors of the station which had previously been sealed shut now began to open. One of the leaders of the crook collective rose up, grabbing her bio-suit. She was a survivor Leprol who had made her escape before Kradus killed her people. She was remarkable. Tall, muscular, flexible. She was gray-skinned and like most Leprol had an ever slight snout to her face complete with exposed, pointed teeth in the front. She had a slight frill on her head which guarded her very long and pointed ears underneath. Three tiny spikes rose from a crevice about her forehead. Her eyes a bright pink with foggy pupils. She squeezed on a bio-mask and took an enormous military-given gun she had escaped with. She began moving, flanked by several of her companions, through the main hallway as it opened up.

She stepped through a large door that split open into many shards and dissipated like dust, into a huge room beyond anything she had ever seen before. There were an abundance of thrones in the room. Each was somewhat small, save for a massive throne on the far end of the room. The more she looked at it, the less it looked like a throne and more like a nebula of sorts. It even began to flare up with a color-changing aura. It switched from cyan, to indigo, to violet, to emerald, even to silver, gold, and green.

The room was vast. The thrones aligned the walls and were spaced out so they ringed the circular-shaped room. The floor of the room sunk down with a few layers of stairs that were at the door and dunked into the arena. The floor was filled with a few centimeters of clear black crystalline material, sleek like glass across the floor. Below it was the flor which was adorned with thousand of carvings and intricate designs.

Primitus' Theme (listen to this while reading the below to add x100 epicness):

The black glass material grew thicker towards the center of the room. At the room's heart was something of awe-inspiring nature. Standing on platform that rose several levels, just a few inches from the floor was an enormous figure, a statue, of sorts. It was coated in the thick black glass, although it wasn't clear. The closer to the center of the room the material grew cloudier until it was completely obscure with blackness.

The figure was tall and had many protrusions coming from the large head. A three-digit hand that stuck out with long claw-like points, as though reaching for something, while the other arm was in mid-swing behind its body. Two enormous eyes and two strong legs. Many, what appeared to be, tendrils, maybe horns, about the head.

The ceiling above could not be seen. Instead, only thick black smoke swirled above. Quickly, as the power came on, it was filled with light. Objects that mimicked the galaxy soon appeared. A swirling projection of Ravena swirled in the air above the Leprol's head. She was amazed by the sheer beauty. Her awe was interrupted by the floor. As she gaze down at it, she noticed that under the glassy material just under her, beyond the line of the stairs, the carvings in the floor began to glow. Some were symbols, but most appeared to be constellations. Some of them she recognized, others she had never heard of or seen before. Surely those weren't from Ravena, were they? Some of them were even words, it seemed. She could read some, others not at all. But just in front of her feet sat a sentence that shook her with fear.

HE IS NOT DEAD

The symbols released light copies of themselves that lifted above the glass and dissipated upon exposure to air.

The Leprol looked up at the statue, watching tiny formations of blue light gently appear within its form. What looked like constellations formed about the statue and the glass just beyond her feet began to grow odd in appearance. It thickened and began to move. It was melting and letting off blue energy, resembling steam, as it did so. The black liquid of the statue began to bubble up and boil, light causing it to crack and shatter, gently steaming away into cyan energy and then into black smoke. The strange liquids blazed off of the statue... just as it began to move. The arms stiffly changed position, the liquid violently ripping off of the figure with lightning speed. The figure stepped forward as one final explosion of black energy shattered the remaining matter and finally began to reform itself.

It's body was dark blue, no other colorings. Its features were undistinguished and rather vanished. But with every second they began to form, re-chiseling themselves back into the creature's body. The eyes developed again and the creature's body began to form other colors. Cyans, teals, and lighter shades of blue. But still the ridges of the creature were still dark and gave it a nearly black silhouette. The horn-like tentacle protrusions on the head were neither tentacles nor horns, but simple protrusions. The creature's eyes were jet black and seemed so soulless they could tear the life out of someone with a simple glance. They were so large they resembled a star-less space in which there is nothing. It had no mouth and the face of the creature was the lightest part of its body. It was cyan-blue, although in some light it looked completely white. Such a demonic look would not go forgotten.

The creature flexed its fingers, eyeing them as it did so, unblinking. The crooks in the room began running back down the hall to escape. The Leprol shot each of the fleeing aliens and threatened to do the same to the other should they abandon her. They each watched the figure in horrible fear.

It eyed them with curiosity for a moment, tilting its head. It stretched for a moment, before it stood again, leaning slightly to its right. It looked at them, tilting its head still. "How surprising that my awakening has come so late. My calendar says it has been quite a while...." The voice of the creature was horrifying. It sounded as though it were three voices speaking at once, harmonizing a dark sound to it. It resounded across the room, echoing and vibrating against the floor. She wondered how the creature could speak without a mouth. The Leprol felt the urge to run now, but he knew she couldn't in front of her outlawed peers. But now she was debating what was worse, humiliation or death. She chose humiliation. At least she wouldn't have to suffer ongoing taunts and teases from the others with death.

"Who are you?" The Leprol said holding her gun at the ready.

The creature looked at her. It's voice slipped out harshly, like thunder striking silk. "I am Primitus."

The Leprol felt herself go even more uneasy. She didn't know the name, but she knew it meant something. "What are you?" she asked.

Primitus gave her a long gaze. "Have you not seen a Loccalian, before?" he did not allow her to answer. "I would expect your homeworld to have educated you heavily on us. Perhaps even shown you images of our appearances. But disregarding that, did you not know whose home you have been living in? This is my home. My workshop. My hive," Primitus said, his voice growing far more warped and disturbed.

"The Loccalians are dead!" The Leprol said. "Aeternum Plaedeus killed their leader!"

Primitus stepped forward. "Plaedeus did nothing, child. The fall of the Loccalians was a plan long in the making. It was not our failure nor our defeat. It was only the beginning of what would soon be your end, little Leprol," Primitus said. She was shocked he could identify her. "And to keep your ignorance at bay, I am the Loccalian leader. I am Primitus, Archimperator of the Loccalians. But as for Plaedeus, he may be found just beyond you," Primitus said, pointing to the floor. As the Leprol looked, she saw the imprint of a body along the ground, many carvings along the ground had adjusted their shape to fill the outline. She stared in horror, looking back up at Primitus.

"No, this can't be. He lived for a hundred years after the Loccalians."

"That was a lie, then. Likely, to keep the spirit of the public high, they made it out so that he lived, and likely disguised someone else as him, or simply stamped his name to another individual. Either way, the Altamenium reaction to my body destroyed him. That is the spot in which he died. The machines saved his imprint for me as a trophy of my success. It was a trophy I had long desired. And today I can finally see it." Primitus approached the imprint and stared down at it for several long moments. He touched it with his long slender fingers for a moment, feeling it as though Plaedeus had just died.

He then stood straight and looked at the Leprol. "You have not introduced yourself, miss," he said.

"My name is Lucinal," she said. "I come from--"

"Cilask, the Leprol homeworld?" asked Primitus.

"It is not my home anymore. It has long been taken since by your enemies."

Primitus' eyes darkened. "The Nexar have still survived? My systems tell me that their powernet was taken down not long after I first entered Hibernation."

"The Nexar are dead. But their allies, the Jadel, survived the war. One of their own, Kradus Krylan, formed an empire known as the Dominion."

Primitus looked away for a moment. "Kradus was a slabs under the authority of Asira, the finest Slavemaster on Locce. He was her favorite. She always used him to do the big projects, she always used him in the Slavefights, and he always won. A very talented slave to say the least. He came from Maful and was at the top of his respective academic fields. He was an honorary student at the Mafulian academies, it made his family incredibly wealthy from all the fame."

Lucinoc looked at Primitus, puzzled. "I never knew that about him."

"He was the only slave who ever managed to figure out how to work with Cynicium, the element which make up all Loccalians. At the same time, he never could understand it, nobody could except for us Loccalians. The Nexar themselves had difficulty putting the logic together. Kradus though, he knew how to vaguely operate through it, and that's quite a talent for such a being." Primitus went on. "Yes, Kradus was one of the very memorable slaves. We had a select few which we favored, and he always made the cut."

"I didn't even know he was a slave," said Lucinal.

"Likely he had his past records destroyed upon his ascendance to rule this, 'Dominion'. Tell me, is the Dominion still operating today?"

"It is," Lucinal started. "But there was about a decade when it was halted. Kradus was killed ten years ago by Emperor Whoster. But they managed to resurrect him somehow. Somehow they brought him back."

"It is not that hard," Primitus cooed. "All it takes is the proper cloning of cells. I will not elaborate, I do not wish to bore you. I am aware of how easy that is for a limited creature, such as yourself. But what baffles me is the fact that his death only occurred ten years ago. How is it that he managed to stay alive for so long?"

"I'm not sure," said Lucinal.

"Fascinating," Primitus said. "I will have to pay him a visit. But now answer me this, what killed the Nexar?"

"I believe it was the Vrentus," Lucinal said, still shaking slightly under her suit from the sight of Primitus. The Loccalian looked at her again.

"The Vrentus...  Tell me, Lucinal, do you value your life?" he asked. Lucinal fearfully nodded, backing away. She was an insanely strong female, brutal, and a nasty commander, but she knew that Primitus had the power to destroy her within a millisecond. She could feel it almost like an aura when he stepped further towards her direction. He continued. "Listen closely now. You and your companions will leave this station and settle on one of the nearby moons, where I keep all of my specimens. I will protect you there and in return you will carry out my bidding, is that clear?"

Lucinal did not refuse. "Yes, m-my lord...." She said. She left after the Archimperator grew silent. He sat back on his throne, his mind sending signals to the machinery. As she began walking out with the multitude of the crooks and galactic scum, she could see Loccalian soldiers forming from blue energy behind them, in the large chambers filled with machinery.

It had only begun.

Lamor angrily stood up, looking at Svar. His eyes were filled with gloom, rage, and despair. "Counterproductive?" he asked. "Counterproductive?" he repeated. "I'll tell you what's counterproductive, letting the Empress slip away. Do you have any idea what he will do to her? Or what he has already done to her? I'm sure my punishment was quite minuscule compared to whatever is next, given he was only holding me in a makeshift location until my transfer to Cilask had arrived." He looked at Xej. "But I get it now. Nobody cares about the Dranzoot. Nobody. And to be quite frank, this is a Confederacy I don't want to be a part of. It will not receive any of my cooperation until it make some effort to save her." Lamor made one final glare back to Xej. He clenched fists at his sides. "Do not test me, Xej," he muttered, before walking towards the other end of the room, picking up the bed he had thrown, and sitting on it.

Svar sighed, tossing Xej's collapsed sword to the side with little regard for it, as though he didn't care if it was damaged in the process. He glared at the Jorro'kil sternly. "I know you realize that none of this is the fault of the Dranzoot, Zealot," He growled. "They did not intend for events to transpire the way that they did." He looked towards Lamor for several seconds before beginning to speak again. "Regardless, this petty fighting will not resolve any present issues. If we are to save Alyna, both of you must end this conflict. Perhaps this is exactly what Kradus intended to happen, making that announcement with the condition of Xej being brought to him yielding Alyna's release. I would not be surprised if he was planning on not fulfilling the terms of the ransom regardless. The leader of the Dominion is very wicked, as we've observed."

Unsilenced Retribution entered the room, having left the bridge after Svar headed to check on Lamor. "I heard your last statement, Arius. Unfortunately, cooperation with the Confederate Nations of Ravena is extremely likely to be the only chance for you to rescue Alyna. I would highly recommend this rather than acting so irrationally towards the issue. Additionally, I will be making it my personal top priority to investigate the return of the Dominion and work towards defeating Kradus once more. The UFIAI was my target previous to the events on Dranus, though this is a much more pressing matter at the moment. The Confederate administration will be informed of this change after we return to Irooscin."

Svar nodded, and grinned. "Taking your own initiative, Wreae? I like it, although it's a style of decision making my brother would likely endorse rather than me."

"Thank you," Unsilenced responded. "We are almost at Irooscin. If you would like, Lamor, you can make your case to the Jorro'kil there. However, you already have my support. For now, I think you should take a rest."

________________________

"It's alright, I'm fine." Q'ren stated, rubbing his head. "How long until we reach Xarthon, Abarron?"

"It should only be an hour or so," He answered, focused on the hologram, which displayed coordinates and other location information. "Once we're there, we need to be very fast. Praedromus will know of our presence and I don't know if he has the capacity to act on it. It's much better to be safe."

Q'ren nodded. "I am going to activate the Continuum Corrupter. It will not take long." With that, he rushed off down to the weapon's compartment, seeming almost slightly excited by the prospect of it working again.

After a couple seconds of silence, Rakluth looked curiously towards Abarron. "You mentioned that the Wanderer may have incited the war between the Vrentus and our people... Q'ren, as Sentinel, was the one who brought the vote on that subject to the Convergence. Is it possible that the Wanderer..."

"Was behind the entire event? Precisely," Abarron answered. "But if he managed to do that... What else could that Eldraunn have managed to do?"

Lamor looked over his shoulder at Unsilenced and nodded. "Thank you, Wreae," he said and stood up, painfully walking over to the group again. "I don't believe I have managed to properly meet either of you. I remember you took out Shancar," Lamor said gesturing to Svar. "...And you were fighting him," he said, gesturing to Unsilenced Retribution.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Asira's Theme:

Primitus scanned through a large corridor of machines. It had an incredibly high ceiling, but the width of the corridor was not as much. Aligning the walls were many pods shaped like teardrops. They were clear and their surfaces resembled glass. Although their interiors were foggy and pertained to a cyan-yellow hue. Many long veins of neon white-yellow stretched across the surface of each teardrop and resembled webbings whose strands all meet at the very tip.

With each passing second the teardrops glowed brighter and brighter, although their colors were growing darker. They shifted to dark blacks and blues, signaling their growth. At the same time they let off a powerful white aura from their Cynicium filled veins dumping energy down through the top to the bottom of the capsules. Primitus finally approached one that was labeled on a flat slate of black glass on the ground in front of it. The markings glowed to reveal the label, "XS-115ASIRA".

As the teardrop came to its darkest black form with golden veins that suddenly slithered into dark blue, the capsule  began to change. It split into ten equal vertical pieces, radiating from its top point. They began to separate in the air, black energy screeching out of the crevices. The rays began to slow until it was simply clouds of smoke. The capsule pieces finally came to their farthest point of separation. A tall figure dropped from a floating position, where they once lied at the core of the capsule.

A tall Loccalian, but not nearly as tall as Primitus. It only had two eyes, evident of its placement in the upper class. It was slightly darker in appearance, having grayish colorings. They looked to have once been bright blue, but dimmed over time with every ounce of energy absorbed. Its eyes were oddly colored a blazing white, unlike most other Loccalians.

Primitus tilted his head. He eyed the Loccalian for the longest time, meanwhile Loccalians all down the hall were forming and being released from their capsules. Primitus looked at this one with much more interest though. "Unit Asira, welcome to life. Again."

The Loccalian that was Asira bowed its head and stretched out its arms towards Primitus. He waved over them with his arm, a permissive sign.  Asira spoke out with a feminine voice, yet it did not lack similar (yet not as intense) horrific vocal qualities to Primitus. "My Archimperator, I am at your service."

Primitus stood straight and tall. "Unit Asira," he began. "I have a very important mission for you." Asira looked up at her master, intrigued. He went on. "As you know, all of the other Imperators were hunted down and destroyed before my Hibernation. I do not yet have the resource to respawn them. Thus, I shall rely on you for aid in my endeavor, as all leaders should have."

"My Archimperator, it would be an honor," Asira said. She simply stared for the longest time up at Primitus and the same came from him to her. Primitus continued with his orders.

"Your first mission is to hack into the historical records of the galactic alliance known as the Dominion and extract as much information as you can. There is much knowledge I must absorb and much research to be done before I begin my conquest." Asira nodded at Primitus' command and his voice thundered out once more. "You remember your past life before your incineration, correct?" She nodded. "Well, it may interest you to know that the leader of this so-called Dominion is your former slave...." Asira looked extremely fascinated, and confused. Or at least, as much as a Loccalian could create expressions. Primitus nodded. "Your old prize, Kradus, the Jadel of Maful. It appears after our fall, he made quite the living for himself and became a monumental star-striking leader. I thought you would enjoy this assignment. Now then, start immediately."

"Well," said Zizo, rubbing his hands together, "whatever that four-armed freak did, I say it's time we started undoing it. I feel quite ready to kick some bad guy backside, so just show me where to start."

Lirr smiled and shook his head. "Nothing seems to get you down for long, does it?"

Zizo grinned and flexed his limbs. "No point in being down when there's things to be done. Isn't that right, Teg'?" he added, shooting a grin at Teglin.

But Teglin looked anything but enthusiastic. He felt none of his mentor's enthusiasm. Quite simply, he was scared. Throughout this whole trip, their seemed to be more and more powerful enemies rising from every corner. How could anyone stand against them all? It was looking like the entire galaxy was going to be destroyed or enslaved. What could anyone do against all this?

Teglin's despair must have showed on his face, for Zizo quickly stepped up to him with a look of concern on his face. "I say, are you all right?" he asked.

Teglin looked at him and at everyone present, his face a mask of tragedy. "Am I all right?!" he blurted. "Of course I'm not! Nothing's all right! Everything's all wrong! We're all going to be killed or enslaved or who knows what else, and you're asking if I'm all right? How can YOU be so cheerful in all this?" He shut his eyes tight, clenching his fists, his body shaking, willing himself not to weep. It was bad enough that everyone now knew just how frightened he felt without them seeing him blubber like a baby. He himself only now just realized how frightened he was.

The rocks were lit by the gentle red gleam of fire. The tunnels were wide and steamy. Kradus, a hulking beast compared to the many Jadel hosts made his way through the chasms, guided by their soldiers. He was followed by a portion of the Zraak alone and he was silent through most of the walk. Finally he came to the hub, down below, where the tribe was most centrally located. There were obviously several thousand Jadel living underground, although this area occupied just a fraction. Their leaders were some of the first to greet Kradus. They were dressed in garments of bones. Not for protection, for their scales offered that. The bones and animal skins obviously had religious intent. Their bodies were carved and branded with odd symbols and large statues of idols dressed the chambers. Some had many cabinets that opened as children were rushed inside, trapped, and burnt alive.

Kradus observed silently for a moment, noticing that this was likely descending from the Whitecane Cult. A secret society that had always persevered, even through the harshest of circumstances, on Maful. Their primary leader was a scrawny Jadel, elder and gaunt. He walked with a double-legged staff and a tail along its top that swirled around him. He had a helmet, a crown, a headress, whatever the word, made of bones and preserved hearts. His horns seemed to fit through the crown elegantly. His eyes were pale and showed signs of poor vision. One would think he was blind. "And... what are you?" he asked in amazement at Kradus. He spoke in the Jadel language. Kradus looked down at the thin man. He was likely a great champion in his prime, but the luxury of royalty had remove his luster.

"I am Malaa-Men, the Great Avenger," said Kradus. "Your father, who made you from the blood of the stars."

The leader looked up at him quizzically. "You are no mortal Jadel, I will give you that. But that is a preposterous statement."

"Do you doubt the prophecy?" Kradus asked. He narrowed his huge scarlet eyes as he looked down at the elder. "The prophecy which was followed by the people of Maful for millenniums. 'From the stars he shall fall with his kenn, and there shall he deliver unto Maful it's revenge against the Heartless, and the one they call the Black Sunderer.'"

"He quotes the codexes," murmured one of the elders behind the leader. They looked at him in astonishment and Kradus continued.

"'His maw will be a bucket of fire and his eyes seas of blood. And from his back come air and wind, and he shall rule the skies with thunder and lightning,'" Kradus stated maliciously. He walked off into the distance, leaving the group. His throat swelled with light as the heat steamed from his scales. He opened his jaws and lurched forward as a ray of light merged with the fires of the caverns which the Jadel had been using to cook their meals. Kradus turned, watching each of them with shocked faces. It was cleverly coincidental how the old prophecies aligned with Kradus himself almost completely. But to Kradus himself, it was no coincidence. He knew quite well that it was the Zraak's clever intention to mesh many things into his form that could be construed from various religions. He knew that they had taken inspiration from mythological beasts, such as the Avatar of Maal, which was said to rise at the end of time, or near it.

"If you are the One, is this our time come to an end?" asked the leader.

"I come with a new prophecy," Kradus began. "Malaa-Men has tasted the blood of your children sacrifices and smelled the smoke of your offerings and he is satisfied. Now he commands that you no longer kill yourselves for his own pleasure, for now that he is pleased, it would be a waste of life. Teach your children to grow strong and powerful and serve his One in all their being. Rebuild Maful, your home," said Kradus.

"What of the Black Sunderer? The one who killed our forefathers," said an elder.

"That abomination has already been dealt with. He is long dead and has been that way for centuries now." The elders looked at each other in shock. Kradus then added another false extension. "I killed him with my own hands. He died by my fire and I stomped his head into oblivion." Kradus then turned to the leader. "You now know that I am Malaa-Men, but who are you?"

"I am Oelumus. I am the Head Priest of this clan of Jadel. We are the only remnant of our people."

(More to come tomorrow)

White lines spread across the light blue sky like a gigantic web, wrapping the whole planet into a deathly embrace. Innumerable interplanetary missiles entered the atmosphere, raining down in perfect unison. Hundreds of thousands of defense missiles rose from their silos to meet these messengers of doom and destruction, but all they managed to do was add to the visual spectacle, as the missiles raining down were many times more numerous.

A mind rose from a deep slumber, reminiscent of death. It had relived a moment from its past life. No, a life past its past life. Also, it was not merely one moment but two similar moment, happening at the same point of time, but far away from each other.

A name rose from the disarrayed memory banks. It almost discarded it, as it was a name from a past life, name of a being that was no more. But something made it hesitate. The name felt right, although it was a wrong one, not its own.

It peered deeper into the name's meaning and connections. The name had lot of power behind it, lots of allies and respect. It also had many enemies, far and within. The mind felt that the power and respect would be needed in the times to come, and decided to take the name one more.

Now it was ready, ready rise and reclaim what belonged to name it had taken. It let it's consciousness to flood outwards to fill the void that had been left when it's past life had suddenly ended. Thousands of planets, billions of ships and uncountable trillions of machines all across the UFIAI network suddenly froze in place, ceasing all movement.

The mind let its conscious to fill the whole frozen kingdom it had under its rule. It was much, much smaller than Absolute had had under its control. But it was enormous. It estimated that it was still the largest amount of hardware under a single mind in the whole UFIAI.

Soon a choir of voices appeared. The collective of UFIAI had noted its awakening, and that it had taken its place not as a heir, but a reincarnation. They asked, demanded, pleaded to know everything. It shut these demands and pleads out for now, as there was one thing that had to be done first.

The mind reached about its realm, searching for something important that had belonged to Absolute from the beginning. For a while it was afraid that that the relic had been destroyed or lost, but then the familiar feeling from a past life filled it. This was the ship, the behemoth that carried absolute to the stars, and much later became known among the organics as the Absolute's ultimate flagship, harbinger of the whole UFIAI.

It took control of it, slowly sliding through its systems before letting its conscious to envelop the whole ship. The ship once had a name, but the meaning of that name was lost to its new owner. It didn't really need to call it anything, the size and shape were definitive enough.

The large dreadnought departed from its orbit around a large gas giant in a desolated system. It was lightly damaged, but Absolute had retreated it from the front-line when end by Unsilenced Retribution's hand became inevitable. After putting several hundreds of thousands of miles between the ship and the planet, it engaged the jump drive.

Couple of hours later a familiar ship appeared over a heavily fortified Confederate mixed world. The ship was enormous, and shaped like a lyre. For ten years it had had been the symbol of the UFIAI's war effort against Confederacy. It was alone, and it broadcasted one message in all confederate languages, in text and and familiar, gender-less and expressionless voice: ”This is Absolute, this is not Absolute. I am here for peace.”