[b][u]Yrrkeltharl Coalition Space Unknown Region Mlan’entel E’thuur[/u][/b] The dark oblong shape of the ship, covered in swarms of blinking green lights that crawled like unnatural star-born gnats over its smooth, uneven surface, sped through the stygian gulfs of empty space. A mere glimpse of them could not have revealed whether the vessel was traversing the pulsing Core of Yrrkelthar, overflowing with life and activity, or the dread [i]vollnetlle[/i], silent and haunted by deadly terrors. The stillness and shadow of the cosmos, indifferent to such irregularities within its folds, were identical countless light-years across. Out of the sight of planets and metallic simulacra, be they covered by the blight of alien life or corpses at the mercy of unthinking machines, the blackness was as cryptic as it had been at its dawn, and would yet be when even the hardiest of the parasites burrowing their way through it were gone. Yet the ship pressed on, unconcerned by the mystery of its surroundings, as though it knew full well where it should go. And, indeed, it, or rather the ones driving it on, did know. The waves of strange, ethereal signals coursed through the void from the twisted prow into the unseen distance, words in a voiceless tongue being exchanged by synthetic mouths glimmering with electronic lights. The further the craft advanced, the stronger and more numerous the whispering impulses became. First they came only from the front; then more of them appeared to hammer at its sides, until the greatest part of it was engulfed in a sea of them. Eyes of astral steel opened to gaze at it from afar, and immaterial tendrils sounded its hull. Along with this prying, though so far aside from it that spatial metaphors failed, another influence began to gradually permeate the space. It was blind and had no face, not even an artificial one, and it was all the more sinister and oppressive. The breathing of ancient, immensely strong minds of metal and unnatural flesh. Aboard the vessel, Fh’thnal Two felt it, and was uneasy. It had memories of having entered this presence before, and likewise knew that memory could not compare to its actual sensation. Now, especially, there was something in it that it, as one endowed with such powers itself, perceived and recognised all too keenly. The great sentiences were displeased. Whether at it personally, the entire situation or those who had brought it about, it could not tell; but the umbrage lying over the coursing echoes of thoughts was distinct and heavy. There were shades and fluctuating depths in it. In places, it was black, viscous and bitterly venomous, almost as strong as the Hand of Wrath itself; in others, it was but a fleeting gust of choking smoke over the depths of something too immense to be filled by feeling. But it was almost everywhere. The presence continued to grow closer and stronger. Outside, their source was already visible. A cluster of green and golden lights, too dense and bright for stars, had appeared before the vessel. As it drew nigh, it spread out, expanding to fill more and more space, and at length their true nature could be discerned. Akin to the swarm running over the one ship, they burned in recurve metallic walls. But, where the former was a handful of gnats in the dark immensity, they shone like the malignant eyes of a pack of ravenous otherworldly beasts. The sides of the ships they were set in were colossal, as imposing as the walls of a great Nodule, and their own size was such as to rival in places the approaching ship itself. Slumbering amid the swirling of nebulae and the monotonous cycles of the stars, yet ever restless and awake, the Fleet Lastborn waited. Not a moment sooner than Fh’thnal had expected, the door of its cylindrical, metal-walled chamber quietly slid open, the evenly burning lights on the panels parting to reveal the N’vall acolyte who had escorted it onto the ship after receiving it into consign from Ahl-115’s coordinators. The lesser one, only one of its kind it had seen since awakening in the Circuit’s hold, had been in all as deferential as befitted one of its stature towards an I’nler’attul, but it could sense that, instead of the dread and veneration it was due, the acolyte regarded it with nothing more than wariness and disgust. It so longed to wrack that firstborn wretch with all the torment it deserved, much as it had with that vile dirt-dweller of the Coalition, but again it was restrained, and by something greater than an Amaranthine envoy’s instructions. Not even the strange compulsions it had been ridden with could match the fear before the ire of the I’mthal’atl, Them Who Rule. The acolyte beckoned with a nod, and it followed through the [i]unaal[/i]’s dim, smooth, irregularly arched corridors, past more doorways, by the sides of which stood pairs of motionless Fham’nhl guards, through the series of small chambers that led to the exit. The main door was already unsealed, and beyond its semi-circular opening the shadowed interior of a vessel immensely more vast could be seen. They had arrived to their destination. Here, beyond the gates of a void-home that had seen much, but never something so grand, lay the halls of the legendary flagship of Mlan’entel E’thuur, last among all the N’vall fleets. The seat of the utmost dominators, whence emanated the designs that shaped the destiny of the seekers of the lightless day. [i]Unloth A’lthn[/i], the Final Throne. In solemn silence, its head bowed both by the solemnity of the occasion and the crushing vicinity of the Rulers of Substance, Fh’thnal hovered through the portal and into the bowels of the great ship. The chamber was sparsely decorated, with only a few stains of glow piercing the penumbra, and empty save for some Terror honour guards on their silent vigil. A door directly before the gateway led into a further corridor, this one brighter than those on the [i]unaal[/i], but otherwise quite similar. After only three recurve, broad bends it ended in the white, circular space of a small elevator, sufficient for but one passenger. It was expecting its guest, and readily swallowed it before speeding upwards without need for commands. The ascent lasted but a few moments; then the enclosed platform smoothly came to a halt, and an opening appeared in the wall before Fh’thnal. It passed into the short, but high gallery beyond, swept through the tall doorway surmounted by a pointed arch and past the sentries at its sides, and came into the darkness of the great room, acrawl with eyeless thoughts and stagnant rancour. It rose into the heights as an enormous inverted cone, growing wider and ampler as the rows of balconies lining its walls spiralled upwards. Even the lowest of them loomed meters above, the sheer steel wall only giving way to the circular terraces a few times over its height from the floor. Up there, in order of greatness, sat the I’nler’attul of the Fleet; the first ones were lowest, whereas the last were so far above that, had the chamber even been lit, one could not have seen them from below. The I’mthal’atl themselves, it was said, were not even on the balconies at all, but on a platform suspended from the ceiling, so that not even the best of the lesser could glimpse them. None knew whether this was true, for the great ones had never been beheld. Yet they were clearly there. When Fh’thnal Two reached at last the centre of the room, where it knew it was to endure judgement, the hovering thoughts writhed and diverted their course from their unseen evolutions up in the air to converge upon it. They felt, they sounded, reaching into its thoughts with hands of cold bone. It did not try to hold them away, for what good would it have been at that point? From somewhere high above came the resonating mind-voice of a greater I’nler’attul. It was rumbling with ancestral strength, and vibrating with the raw power of a greater shaper. Between it words, the susurrations of the gathering could be heard in slithering fragments of instinctive reaction. [i]”One akin to Fh’thnal, wrought by means false and heretical. You were brought to life (Defilement of the shape! Blasphemy!) by ones who came from beyond this void-realm, who name themselves as a circuit of amaranth (Vermin of the stars! The vile ones will be expunged!) and can imitate the form. The ones from beyond compelled you to serve them, although they have no strength themselves (False claimants to the throne of being! Broken puppeteers! Feeble to be bound by their snares!), and challenged the ascent of the N’vall body by bringing you upon the soil.”[/i] At this point, the whispers grew so thick as to be indistinguishable and untraceable for a moment, the dark wrath swelling and towering over their umbral weave. [i]”That you did not smite them where they stood would have warranted grave penance had you been N’vall. (But – But – But) But you are not of ours, even though you are in all things alike. You are first, unknown and unsounded upon your path. For this, the mandates (Portentous though they may be) of the seekers alone are not sufficient. The I’mthal’atl, who guide the threads of flesh and void (Fist and bone of us all! They will know), will descry and speak their wisdom. Great is their reach (None more than them). May it descend.”[/i] In spite of knowing it was not meet for it to do so, Fh’thnal Two pulled together its thoughts in a tense web. The one who had spoken wielded such force that, under the impacts of its echoes, it had not been quite able to rear even the hastiest spectre of indignation or – absurd – defiance in its defence. For all its life, it had been among the highest dominators of its fleet, and now it found itself paling before a mere mouthpiece of the great ones. Nor would it have been of any use to voice that most crucial fact – that the transgressions for which it had been summoned hither were as much as an affront to itself, if not more, as to all the N’vall, and certainly no will of its own. If Those Who Rule intended to sound it, they would inevitably feel it themselves. Their sight was all-reaching. It came. From the shadows high above, the invisible pillar of scouring flame that was the will of the bearers of the end. Maybe only one of them. Fh’thnal remembered having put its powers to the test in its early days, and having felt the searing lashes of other I’nler’attul as they struck at each other in seeming battle. This was nothing alike it. It did not demand access, or force its way in; it swept by with the speed of a distortion lance, unconcerned about anything before it. It was impetuous and indifferent, a force of the cosmos, that to which all the seekers should aspire, and at the same time thorough, for so vast was it that its tongues crackled in every recess, be it even so recondite. It was power, pure and simple. Painful was not a word in its light. In its wake, more presences crept down, clawing their way more cautiously. The assembled masters of the void-homes dripped down to ascertain for themselves what had led to this point. The echoes of their motions were many, and laden with hundreds of shades; yet, even in the searing grasp of the supernal entity, even among all their faceless numbers, Fh’thnal Two’s attention was spontaneously drawn to one of them. Its resonations, the paths it left, so much easier and more confidently than the others, as it slid through memory, the speed with which it surpassed all but the fiery column were captivating in a fiendish manner. The answer to whom it could be was made obvious by this and more, yet it did not have to ask itself the question at all. Immediately, it knew. Fh’thnal turned upwards, arduously tearing itself from the chains the weight of the great one’s mind had inadvertently laid upon it, and looked at itself. The other did not block its sight. It could smell its smouldering anger, more potent yet than those of most who were assembled there, fade to a surprise it could not quite suppress itself. It had, obviously, expected this, but manifestly had not known what exactly it would find. Little more than an extension of itself. How little was indeed why it was taken aback: instead of the crude, superficial and, beyond any doubt, distinct replica one could have expected from heretics of the form, here was one of itself which had ramified into another corridor of progress. Almost disappointing in its identity, like an extraordinary sight ground into dullness by routine before being beheld at all, but less surprising than that would have been. It was thus all the less surprising that, upon seeing that the one whom the outsiders had constrained in mind – by then, all could clearly see, if not the fetters themselves, their effects – and degraded from its high station was [i]itself[/i], Fh’thnal’s wrath against them should have surged higher than before. Hunger for the torment of the beings it now could itself remember gnashed upon itself with cold spines. Not even a likeness, but [i]it[/i] had been made subservient to incomplete beings, and it had become a symbol of hindrance to serve their insignificant ends. They probably did not even think of what they had done, and upon this the thrashings of violence grew higher yet. Fh’thnal Two found it natural, almost reflexive, to lift up the anger as its own – for its own it was – and hold it at the very core of the inquisitorial pillar. If the I’mthal’atl did feel something, its grip did not betray it. Perhaps it already knew, or its thirst for violence was already absolute. But the others, who not were struck by the arising emotion in the full light of its presence, reached for it curiously, and it spread among them like a plague. The black tendrils of their probing thoughts bristled with slashing edges and tormentous claws, grasping, flailing, invoking censure. Fh’thnal, duality notwithstanding, was no longer the sole possessor of the seed; all of the I’nler’attul had partaken of it, and from them, it would doubtless spread to all N’vall between void and stars. The fleets would blaze forth as they had centuries ago, bearing waste and ruin upon the blindly arrogant dustlings. Abruptly, the pillar split into a multitude of narrow, spear-like rays, which dispersed, sweeping to all sides in a circle mirroring the shape of the room. They cut through the groping feelers, dissipating them and sending the charred stumps wavering back. Fh’thnal Two could no longer feel most of them, though the presence still pierced it with the innermost ones, which had remained motionless. Then, the great one spoke. [i][b]S[sup]S[/sup]U[sup]U[/sup]R[sup]R[/sup]C[sup]C[/sup]E[sup]E[/sup]A[sup]A[/sup]S[sup]S[/sup]E[sup]E[/sup].[sup].[/sup] A[sup]A[/sup]L[sup]L[/sup]L[sup]L[/sup] W[sup]W[/sup]I[sup]I[/sup]L[sup]L[/sup]L[sup]L[/sup] B[sup]B[/sup]E[sup]E[/sup] A[sup]A[/sup]S[sup]S[/sup] I[sup]I[/sup]T[sup]T[/sup] I[sup]I[/sup]S[sup]S[/sup] M[sup]M[/sup]A[sup]A[/sup]N[sup]N[/sup]I[sup]I[/sup]F[sup]F[/sup]E[sup]E[/sup]S[sup]S[/sup]T[sup]T[/sup].[sup].[/sup] [/b][/i] The last rays faded, and for what seemed to be minutes all was plunged into silence and darkness. No thought stirred where others could hear it, though it likely was because they, as well, were clustered together, almost not daring reach out. At length, the I’nler’attul who had been first to speak broke the stillness, either by the daring conferred by its vicinity to the ones above or by their command. No other echoes joined it. [i]”As it was seen, so it will pass. We are to honour our accord with the earth-dwellers, and not move against the blasphemers from without ere great motive is given. You who were wrought in imitation of Fh’thnal have trespassed in negligence and shown the face of weakness, but the I’mthal’atl find no further fault with you. You shall do a penance, and if you return absolution will be dispensed. It has been decreed, and it will be.”[/i] [b][u]Yrrkeltharl Coalition Space Core Region [i]A’thaur I’entil Kotsal[/i], Orbit of Iurthelath[/u][/b] The silence in the chamber would have appeared eerie and unnatural to any not accustomed to its dusky atmosphere. That neither the curvilinear, almost fluid, yet bulky mass of the monitoring and input apparatuses, nor the large cylindrical vats, strange dark shapes writhing and beating about in their obscured depths, nor even the metallic tubes, which appeared to fuse with the walls and floor and now and then pulsed irregularly, should emit even the slightest of sounds despite their evident activity was strange, almost unsettling. The impression was strengthened by the fact that not even from without the room did anything resound, near or far. The entire ship seemed to be dead, a husk fit only for the haunting of warped wraiths. And, after a fashion, it was. But to Xalthil this mattered little. The Skirol presently stood before one of the vats, its proboscis occasionally darting to the nearby control panel and withdrawing without having touched it. In the recipient, a dense bright-blue liquid stirred uneasily, bubbles of irregular size sporadically rising from the centre of its mass. At brief intervals, glimpses of an indistinct tubular form emerged into view. Its appearances followed a curious pattern: almost regular sequences interrupted themselves just as one’s eye was about to begin expecting them, matching the moment with uncanny precision. At times, even this custom seemed to be broken by a flash clearly out of any rhythm. Having finally laid its appendage upon the panel and snapped something on it, Xalthil swung it in a negative gesture and turned sideways towards the further corner of the room, where a cloaked N’vall was hovering before a concentric holo-display. “If these two hundred and three simulation estimates will run their course as probability dictates, the result for this subject will be the same” it clicked, before crawling to reach another panel set in the wall. “We now know with all certainty this approach to be sterile.” The other did not divert any of its limbs from their manipulations at the display as it voiced its reply. “And nothing else.” Xalthil’s proboscis remained suspended over the device for a few moments, wavering from side to side as a snake ready to strike, then drew back as the Skirol paced towards another of the vats. Just as it was midway to its goal, the ghost of a muffled grinding sound, as of jagged metal upon stone, blinked through the air from the display, immediately vanishing in the oppressive ocean of stillness. One of the N’vall’s hands paused in its motions before resolutely snapping through a three-dimensional spiral of light. “Belay the next scheduled experiment” the being spoke, and Xalthil stopped in its tracks. “We will soon have something unprecedented to work with.”