[i]One week before GalaXela's release[/i] 

"We're really not sure what to do with the prisoner, my lord. He's been out cold since the return, it's almost like he's dead. Our only knowledge of life is the fact brain activity is persistent. But, we can't keep him here forever. He's taking up to much space and far too many resources. We have to get rid of him, even if the Overseer won't admit it." 

"Fine, fine. Do what you must, Ensign. I don't care. All any of you ever do is bitch and complain, nobody ever comes to me with a real issue, you know. It's always stupid resources and free space." He grumbled and mumbled beneath his breath as he walked away, his footfalls resonating in the barren, metallic hallway. The glimmering light giving his shadow a ferocity it didn't merit. 

"Well, you are the Resource Manager, fuckwad!" The other man called after him, his voice seething with unrepressed annoyance. "Fuckin' moron chose the damn job, now he's complaining about it. Lazy fuck," he, too, grumbled under his breath. They both hated their jobs, it seemed, and yet they both did them with the utmost effeciency. For his part, though, he walked to the control cluster - his seven-fingered hands working their magic across the console. 

"Tell me to do what I gotta do, fuck it. I'll do what I gotta do. And I'll use his damned keycode to do it." His fingers nimbly danced along, inputting commands and using his boss' codes to do it. As his fingers walked across the keys, a doorway opened in the other room - and then a second, outer, door after that. The [i][b]whoosh[/b][/i] of the vaccuum was the predominant sound, even through the airlocks and the walls. And then, the body laying on the floor was sucked out. 

Closing the airlock and the cell doors back, he turned away from the console and smirked. Technically, it was murder - but when the records were recalled he wouldn't be the one to blame for it. In fact, he wouldn't even be around to see the man being blamed punished. His grey eyes closed, and his yellowed teeth disappeared as the shadows enveloped his body. In that instance, he was gone. 

------- 

[i]Three days later[/i] 

For some, the derelict nature of the endless expanse of space is a thing of pure fear. The very idea of it sends shivers down their spines, a fear of the void that they couldn't shake from the core of thier being. And for others, space was the ultimate adrenaline rush. A place they could go and use that scariness to induce the adrenal gland reactions that so pushed them beyond their limits. That drove many of them, the idea that they could get a rush. That they could get that high. They worked for years and years trying to push it beyond the natural limitations. Trying to get that greatest, largest high. 

Then, you had people like Kishin. She didn't give two fucks about anything, one way or the other. She didn't care about fear, she didn't feel adrenaline. She didn't feel damned near anything, really. Only indifference, only a cold, bleakness inside of her that rivaled only that found outside the walls of her ship. The crew she surrounded herself with, however, longed for the glory of battle. They sought to become known as the greatest, most powerful mercenary force in the whole of the 'Verse. Of course, most of them couldn't lay a finger on her. 

Not that she even held a candle to her father. He was basically a God, and that wasn't just something she saw. That was something that was a given fact. People the Multiverse over worshipped him, they longed for his affection and his touch. Not that he ever gave it, not to them and certainly not to her. No, her childhood was one school after another. Training. Working. Growing. She was sent from place to place, Universe to Universe. Trained in fighting, trained in schooling, trained in magic. She was, for all intents and purposes, a weapon. Kishin didn't mind, though. In fact, she loved him for it. 

That training allowed her to gather these men and women, allowed her to do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. And if someone tried to stop her, if someone too strong tried to stand in front of her. She just brought him up, a single whisper of his name sent most men cowering and running. If that didn't work, well he had a way of showing up to protect her. Even if he barely showed her any love otherwise. He was a great being, a celestial entity whose whispered name still inspired fear and loathing - even if he'd not been seen in nearly ten thousand years. 

Her mind wandered as she thought of him, her eyes glazed over in the daydream. Her rump on the captain's seat didn't move, her body didn't move. She simply looked beyond the world in which they traveled. That was why she didn't see it, not until the loud cracking of something striking the hull set off the alarms. The whole ship rocked from the impact, and immediately she roused from her own memories. 

"What in the actual fuck did we just hit, John?" Her voice cracked like a whip, as she called out to the man piloting the vessel. He just shrugged and turned around, clearly not knowing himself. 

"Captain proximity scans show hull damage on sector four, and a strange object lodged into the side of the ship. It almost seems organic, like...a body...is that even possible?" 

"I don't know, Frank. Why don't you get your ass out there and find out?" 

She shut down the comm-link before he could reply, and immediately opened another on. "Gerald, get your ass down to hangar 2, we might have a body that needs storage. I'm on my way as well." Her finger slammed down on the off button, and she jumped to her feet. She ran to the elevator system, and immediately started descending levels. When the doors opened, the body was already being brought inside. Mechanical crews were on their way out the door, opting to go ahead and repair the hull in-flight. 

She made her way across the hangar floor, toward the object that struck them. It was, in fact, a body. She circled around to look straight on with it. As soon as she saw the face, her own broke out in a smile and then a laugh. The loud, raucous laughter of a crazed, delusional lunatic. The kind of laughter that sent chills down most people's spine. Her hand reached out, touching the frozen forehead of the man laying on the back of the medical bot. 

"Hello, father" 

His eyes snapped open, and his mind began to spool up like the engines of a plane. He scanned the area around him, and within seconds shadows are wrapping themselves around their owners - lifting them from the ground by their throats. In a matter of fifteen seconds, the entire ship became disabled, while its crew hung helpless in the air. Then, he saw Kishin and his mind registered where he must be, where he must have ended up. 

"Oh, hello daughter. Strange...I remember being on the exact opposite side of the Multiverse from you. How'd I end up here?" 

"I don't know, Father. We just...found you. You were floating along in the black, and all of the sudden we hit you, and the...." 

"YOU HIT ME?", he asked - surprised and a little bit hurt. "Well, I suppose I might have earned that. You know, I was never really ther..."

"With the ship...on accident, you old buffoon. You know I don't give a shit about the past, and love you dearly still, Father. Now, if you don't mind?" Her hand gestured toward her men, who still hung suspended in the air, their feet dangling and their faces turning purple. Shrugging his shoulders, the shadows melded back into the ground where they belonged - and the people they held fell to their knees, gasping for their breath. 

"Ladies, Gentleman. I'd like you to meet my father, I'm sure you've all heard of him. His name is Lysander." The last word, the name of the God many worshipped as the end of all life and things in the Multiverse. It sent chills through them, caused them to stop breathing for a second. All except one guy, who was probably born and raised under a rock. 

"Who in the actual fuck is Lys..." before he could even finish the question, his own shadow rose up like the blade of a sickle. With a gurgling, blood-filled death rattle the man fell over and the shadow proceeded to trickle into the well that slowly built itself up at his back. 

"FATHER!" she screamed, "must you kill anyone who doesn't know you? Just because they don't know you?" 

"Yes." 

[i]The Day of The Awakening[/i] 

Lysander, in typical Lysanderian fashion, lounged about. He found nothing worth doing on his daughter's ship, and so he did what he always did and that was nothing. Though, the days were growing longer from the boredom of it all. He needed to get out, he needed to find a way out. Well, not so much a way out as the motivation to just leave. When you've lived for billions of years, and traveled every conceivable highway and byway across the Multiversal lands, you begin to grow weary with existence. Boredom became the most predominant thing he felt, and he found himself rarely feeling the entertainment afforded other people. 

There was no power to match him, no power to test him. Long ago, the Eternal Night housed the only true threat to his might - but Grandfather's energy disappeared eons ago, and Lysander wasn't sure what became of him. Now, he closed his eyes and cast out with his senses. Intensifying his search, expanding his mind, he sought out any entertainment. Then, through the veil of reality and the clutches of space and time he found it. He found what he sought. He found a being of such immense power, that for once he could find himself the challenge he truly deserved. 

Within the span of a blink, his body propelled itself through Jigoku. He lost himself in the darkness of space, the decaying entropy of existence. Then the light broke, and he ejected in the wake of the monstrosity. He stood upon nothingness, floating in the vastness of space - and let his eyes cast around him. Panident. Taluge-X. GalaXelas. They towered him in size, but only one rivaled him in sheer power. With minimal effort, he began to collect the plethora of shadows - forging the well, as Caldecise pulsed with excitement. 

[i] "I hope you guys didn't plan to statt without me."[/i]