[h1]The Assemblage of Gideon[/h1]
Morval stood on the balcony of the Palace of the Light, staring across the fields before him. Wind teased his golden hair, caressing the pale skin of his face with loving touch. Slabs of iridium and gold encased his body, scroll work of platinum running along the armor in whorls of gleaming silver. Azure eyes gazed blankly, filled with mourning as his mind turned inwards, unraveling the tomes of memory which had long lain untouched. Images engraved into his soul, before sealed behind the vault of time, now cleared. Morval's encounter with the Hellstar had revealed to him his own faults and ambitions as much as he had taught it. Change now bore down upon C'ran, change as had not been seen in near one thousand years.

An anomaly was what he was. No longer Sakari in blood or mind and no longer mortal in form or ambition, the pact he had wrought placed him apart. Yet was it above or simply apart? Who determined the superiority of one creature, idea, or organization above another except those that had wrought the changes? To judge did not fall to his duties. Serving the living came first. The dead had their rest.

Screens appeared ahead of him, remains from an era long past, before the advent of the neuro-link, before C'ran had become one. A remain which he required. The neuro-link would never, could never, serve him due to the augmentations implanted in him upon ascension, augmentations ethereal in nature. Flickering softly against the rustic backdrop, mind absorbed the information ahead of him impassively. Millions dead, cast upon the stones of damnation for their knowledge. Knowledge gained from a quest he had set them. Dozens upon dozens of ships floated in the void of space. Most lay in pieces, chunks of structure looming minisculely. No longer did they present a threat.

Screen and background faded, revealing before him the gathered Anointed. Never had the Anointed come together in one place for never had there been need. As thousands of eyes turned to him, he began the Council of Orithica.

[h3]Three hours later[/h3]

The Council of Orithica dispersed, the Anointed returning once again to their respective realms. Smiling at the success which he had met, Morval stared at the stars above him, knowing that among them lay the extensions of his will. A hammer with which to purge the galaxy and finish the Great Record. A hammer of the gods. The Gideon was complete.