A planet teeming with life, nearly idyllic in its beauty. People lulled about their days lackidaisically, without a worry or a care in the whole of the world. Why should they? Robots did their manual labor, machines designed and created specifically just to give them a hedonistic lifestyle. They were soft, as no threat loomed in their near future. Violence was all but eradicated from their planet, save outposts far from the hustle and bustle of the major cities. Even weapons were a thing of the distant path. If need be, the robots could defend them in their own ways - but as far as they knew, they were the only life in the Universe. For those fortunante enough to grow up within the walls of the vast, sprawling cities, it was a dream come true.
Stacey was one of those. She spent her days lounging, indulging in her every whim. A steady supply of food, men, and liquor kept her pushing onward in her life. Her father, the governor of Erebourus, supplied her with plenty of money to see to her every need. At twenty-six, she'd never worked a day in her life. Today, with the sun shining brightly overhead, she found herself lounging beside the emerald waters of her pool. Bathing suit barely covering her body, and her glasses shielding her from her eyes from the harsh rays of the sun. Androids with as near human appearance as one could give them patrolled the grounds. Their sharp eyes and sensor arrays ensuring no ne'er-do-wells entered the premises.
"Stacey, honey, would you mind coming in here for a second?" The sound of her father's voice was soft, gentle. A man accustomed to having everything handed to him, much like the daughter he raised. He was not a hard man, not a man of experience. He knew only what he learned in all his years of life in the docile city.
"Coming, father," she called back, wrapping her towel around her lithe frame and standing up. Bare feet carried her through the opened glass doors at the back of their house. Her father stood in the kitchen, his face belying the turmoil beneath him.
"Sweetheart, have you been having sex with the Griffin boy?" His words weren't harsh, he didn't have it in him to stand up to his daughter - to actually even imply a slight tone of anger. For her part, she just looked him up and down, smirking.
"Him. His dad. His brother. Even their mother, why father? Are you jealous?" She said mockingly, her silken voice barely hiding the undertones of excitement. She'd wondered when this moment would come.
"J...jealous! Prepostorous. They're attempting to extort me, you know. Threatening to release videos of your escapades unless I pay them!" His voice steadily rose, as the anger inside finally began to boil over. It was an emotion he was unaccustomed to, having never felt it in such a meteroic manner. "How dare you put this family in this position you...you...slut." He finally lashed out, the back of his hand striking across her jaw. The resounding crack splitting open her lip.
She didn't utter another word, and instead turned and ran. Out of the house, off the property - leaving her towel behind. She ran into the city, where she used a pretty smile and a silver tongue to retrieve some clothes from a local vendor. She walked the streets, greeting those who greeted her. Smiling at the young men and their fathers. Waving. Here, in the streets, she forgot about the happenings at home. She forgot about anything and lost herself in the tranquility.
Arriving at the local park, she sat on a bench and tilted her head back to look up at the sky. It was then that the first sign of something truly wrong came. A deep, sinking feeling in her gut that forbode something terrible coming. Something that would, she somehow felt, completely ruin everything they'd worked so hard to achieve.
Hunger. That was what she felt. An emotion circling through her, burning away all the rest. Heralds felt little to begin with, aside from the unsatible hunger. The indomitable need to eat, to consume. To destory. It flowed through them like blood through veins. It formed a hole that couldn't be filled. Though they tried. Planet after planet. People after people. They tried so hard. It was the hunger that brought her here, to this planet. It was teeming with life in the right places, and the General Cataclysm would find resources. For her? She would find much needed bioforce.
A high concentration of it sat below them, just beneath the belly of the massive Scourgebearer. It was there the invasion began, yet she did not join the Riflemutants. They fell from the belly to the surface with only a frenzied desire to feed, to kill. It was they that would wipe out the planet. No, The Voidmistress' task was different. Not to consume, not to feed herself - though she indirectly fed through the Hivemind. Her task was simple. Stop all opposition.
A scan of the planet showed nothing of the sort, save a man in the wildlands. He seemed alone, or at least near enough to it - and their scans revealed him as the only one with a weapon on hand. It would be Caitlyn's job to take him out. And trust that she was extremely good at her job. As the last Riflemutant fell from the Scourgebearer, it moved on. Not under any kind of control, save for its own sentient mind. The Voidmistress moved from the nerve center, slipping through the mucus-lined, membrane walls until she sat atop what could only be described as its head.
Finally, they came upon the semi-desolate wasteland town. Caitlyn looked down upon it with disgust. Disdain. That was Isaak, his mind was linked to her own - and even from a distance measured in the thousands of lightyears, she could sense his distaste of what she saw. She felt it so strongly, that it became what she felt as well. As the shadow of the Scourgebearer landed over the city, Caitlyn stepped down. The wind rushed past her ears, but she rarely noticed it.
Her legs hit the ground, and her knee bent. The concussive force of it blasted dust and sod around her - leaving behind a slight crater in her wake. For the first time, her body became fully visible to the people on the surface. A lithe, crystalline structure. Harder than any diamond with enough strength to rip the head off any creature she came across. The Voidmistress was aptly named, her body itself became a void. Looking upon it, one would see the swirling of galaxies and stars in the dark expanse that composed her feminine frame. Once, many centuries ago, The Marquise gifted her with this body. And through him, she became something more than another Val'garan Herald. She became an endless expanse.
She was wrought with power, filtered through the void from her enemies. Magic was useless against her, as if the void itself simply drained the energy which powered it - siphoning it into her self as soon as it touched her, purifying it. Changing and draining it. A sheer touch of her crystal body would drain the bioforce from the living, fueling her seemingly endless power. This man, this guy before her in the unbuttoned coat toting the rifle. He was the only registered threat. Her job was to deal with threats.
So, she supposed, it was her job to deal with him.