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Zyamasiel Member
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<Snipped quote by Zyamasiel>
Really? Cause I don't recall fighting you. That was Laser. I was used as a weapon to start with, then my attention was turned to someone I felt was an actual challenge to me. Then, after we realized the farce you and the others were pulling, yeah...we left the shitty little forum.
However, you are still too low for me to truly care about, and all you do is run your mouth because you could never really be one of us. Maybe after I'm done with my fight against Lee, I might throw up a challenge. But I have a feeling you'd run like a little bitch anyway.
> threatens someone
> makes excuses when they accept.
Make whatever excuses you feel are necessary, and backpedal all you want. Nobody cares. Nobody ever cared.
You'll either nut up, or you'll shut up. You're still fairly useless either way, bruh.
<Snipped quote by Zyamasiel>
You don't know me, though you act as though you do. I'm more than willing to text punch you in the teeth if you want to, though. Nothing but bad blood between us, and I'll let it continue despite the fact we almost had a bonding moment not long ago. Also...what the fuck do I have to gain from alienating myself from literally the only RP group I've ever known or been with? When most are damn near like family to me now? Get your head out of your ass.
As for @AtlasRize and @DLL, I'll explain myself in private on our forums. No reason to keep this going here. The rest of you, sorry for this drama. I, at the very least, do enjoy some of the peeps I've met here and hope to meet most of you on the battlefield at some point.
The last time you said that, you abandoned the forum mid-fight because you were losing. Assuming you won't be doing that again, open a thread.
Indeed, the circumstances of their meeting were dire indeed. A planet was attacked, millions were dead – and millions more were still missing. Those they found, at least until this point, were probably better off dead. In a matter of a few hours, the entire economy based around their mining systems was in shambles. If the people truly understood how dire a situation they faced, even the Gya’kun might not have quelled their anger and their thirst for revenge on the government that allowed such a thing to happen. Now, though, the board was meeting – something that hadn’t happened in a long time, and something he had hoped wouldn’t be needed. Yet, the meeting was called and here they were, filing into the room one after another. Two still seemed to be missing from the group, but they would either make their way in their own time, or they wouldn’t. Regardless, the meeting would be held.
The newest face among them, though he recognized him as the grandson of another councilman, spoke to him. The voice was almost dead-on familiar, but that mattered little. The hierarchy of the council allowed for descendants to take the place of their ancestors, without a vote, but only under circumstances relating to death. News reached him a day ago that Councilman Chamberlain was dead, but in the aftermath of the attack on the Federation, he paid little mind to it.
Now, his replacement stood before him, and was greeting him – and the news popped to the forefront of his mind once again.
“Ah, yes, Kaige the Third, is it? I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather. Unfortunately, there’s nothing that can be done. I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to, as I’m sure all four of us do – but we must meet.
“As of right now, all travel between planets within the Federation is restricted to military movements only. The people are calm, I saw to that a few moments ago, but we’re not sure how long that’s going to last. The truth of this cannot get out, they only know what I’ve told them – and for now that’s enough, but we must keep things quiet. However, we cannot restrict their traveling for long. As such, I propose the ban be lifted now.
“I’ll keep you updated on what the military reports, if they manage to catch the ship that caused this wanton destruction. That’s all I have on the matter, but perhaps either one of you has more to share?”
His words flowed without the aid of the Gya’kun. These people were too strong-minded to succumb to it anyway, and even if they weren’t, they were his friends after a manner of speaking. Though in truth, most of them worked for him in one way or another. At least the General and Kaige, though Raeym corporation wasn’t strictly under his control, they operated in territory owned by the Federation and so obeyed his laws.
Taking his seat at the farthest end of the long table in the room, he crossed his fingers and planted his elbows on the wooden surface, letting his chin rest just on top of his enclosed fingers. He awaited what, if anything, the others had to say on the subject, or any subject that they felt warranted galactic attention. For his part though, he simply had nothing else to say at the moment.
The newest face among them, though he recognized him as the grandson of another councilman, spoke to him. The voice was almost dead-on familiar, but that mattered little. The hierarchy of the council allowed for descendants to take the place of their ancestors, without a vote, but only under circumstances relating to death. News reached him a day ago that Councilman Chamberlain was dead, but in the aftermath of the attack on the Federation, he paid little mind to it.
Now, his replacement stood before him, and was greeting him – and the news popped to the forefront of his mind once again.
“Ah, yes, Kaige the Third, is it? I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather. Unfortunately, there’s nothing that can be done. I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to, as I’m sure all four of us do – but we must meet.
“As of right now, all travel between planets within the Federation is restricted to military movements only. The people are calm, I saw to that a few moments ago, but we’re not sure how long that’s going to last. The truth of this cannot get out, they only know what I’ve told them – and for now that’s enough, but we must keep things quiet. However, we cannot restrict their traveling for long. As such, I propose the ban be lifted now.
“I’ll keep you updated on what the military reports, if they manage to catch the ship that caused this wanton destruction. That’s all I have on the matter, but perhaps either one of you has more to share?”
His words flowed without the aid of the Gya’kun. These people were too strong-minded to succumb to it anyway, and even if they weren’t, they were his friends after a manner of speaking. Though in truth, most of them worked for him in one way or another. At least the General and Kaige, though Raeym corporation wasn’t strictly under his control, they operated in territory owned by the Federation and so obeyed his laws.
Taking his seat at the farthest end of the long table in the room, he crossed his fingers and planted his elbows on the wooden surface, letting his chin rest just on top of his enclosed fingers. He awaited what, if anything, the others had to say on the subject, or any subject that they felt warranted galactic attention. For his part though, he simply had nothing else to say at the moment.
See, though, the problem arose from a simple solution. If the link of the chain touched his groin, that meant the widest part of the blade wasn’t. It couldn’t be, instead it was on the outer side of his groin, twisted flat and fitted to protect him from damage. So, when the spear was pulled back the only resultant action was what was already described – the spear slid its sharp edge along the chain, without ever actually touching flesh. Why that was so hard to grasp, he didn’t understand. It was a pretty simple concept, but if the man wanted to stop the fight he’d gladly draw him a diagram in the dirt of how it happened.
Either way, immediately after the spear pulled free his eyes were already back on the opponent – and in that moment, he saw the next attack beginning. Again, it was one of cowardice and fear. Rather than simply standing toe-to-toe and fighting like a man, with honor, he continued to use the pathetic weapon that already proved useless more than once. The same held true for the newest thrust. It aimed for his right side, from the right side of his adversary – and the solution to the problem was once again just a simple shifting of his hips. He moved immediately as the spear came forward, and its angle belied its target – at least the general idea of it.
Shifting, allowing his weight to imbalance, he could twist the right side of his body. Pulling his right leg backward, and pivoting on his hips while adding a slight lean to his torso resulted in the exact same thing to have happened before. He simply shifted to the side and the spear, once again, missed him completely. As soon as the spear reached past him, he let his right-hand drop – and the chain swung behind him, smacking the haft of the fully extended spear away from his body. At the same time, his body swung back to proper stance, and shifted with purposeful, minute footwork that began to push him forward.
Of course, it didn’t matter. The man was immune to his own momentum, and would immediately have full control of his extended weapon again, and somehow be able to draw back and launch yet another attack in the exact same span of time as the first seemed to be coming. It didn’t matter though, Beatdown was growing tired of the mediocre, boring man who stood before him – and the fight was no longer one of any true value to him, or his Master.
The other had been weighed.
The whole thing was a test, to see if the man was adaptable. To see if the man could deal with fighting someone stronger, and faster than he was, to see if he could change his game to handle a more powerful adversary. He could not.
The other had been measured.
It was clear, throughout the fight, that Brennus – while strong to his own people – could not compare with the peak of human capabilities. He stood no chance in a straight up fight, and that’s why he feared to engage in one. It was something apparent to Beatdown, all throughout the fight, by his inability to adapt. To change.
And he had been found wanting.
As always, they were wanting of power. Wanting of anything akin to discipline. Beatdown, at his full strength, could end it right here, right now. But he wouldn’t. He was toning himself down to be at peak human level, and even that was apparently too much for this man. This man who barely understood what his own actions were, how they worked, or the function of them. The fight was meaningless, and with the others next attack it was over, one way or another.
Either way, immediately after the spear pulled free his eyes were already back on the opponent – and in that moment, he saw the next attack beginning. Again, it was one of cowardice and fear. Rather than simply standing toe-to-toe and fighting like a man, with honor, he continued to use the pathetic weapon that already proved useless more than once. The same held true for the newest thrust. It aimed for his right side, from the right side of his adversary – and the solution to the problem was once again just a simple shifting of his hips. He moved immediately as the spear came forward, and its angle belied its target – at least the general idea of it.
Shifting, allowing his weight to imbalance, he could twist the right side of his body. Pulling his right leg backward, and pivoting on his hips while adding a slight lean to his torso resulted in the exact same thing to have happened before. He simply shifted to the side and the spear, once again, missed him completely. As soon as the spear reached past him, he let his right-hand drop – and the chain swung behind him, smacking the haft of the fully extended spear away from his body. At the same time, his body swung back to proper stance, and shifted with purposeful, minute footwork that began to push him forward.
Of course, it didn’t matter. The man was immune to his own momentum, and would immediately have full control of his extended weapon again, and somehow be able to draw back and launch yet another attack in the exact same span of time as the first seemed to be coming. It didn’t matter though, Beatdown was growing tired of the mediocre, boring man who stood before him – and the fight was no longer one of any true value to him, or his Master.
The other had been weighed.
The whole thing was a test, to see if the man was adaptable. To see if the man could deal with fighting someone stronger, and faster than he was, to see if he could change his game to handle a more powerful adversary. He could not.
The other had been measured.
It was clear, throughout the fight, that Brennus – while strong to his own people – could not compare with the peak of human capabilities. He stood no chance in a straight up fight, and that’s why he feared to engage in one. It was something apparent to Beatdown, all throughout the fight, by his inability to adapt. To change.
And he had been found wanting.
As always, they were wanting of power. Wanting of anything akin to discipline. Beatdown, at his full strength, could end it right here, right now. But he wouldn’t. He was toning himself down to be at peak human level, and even that was apparently too much for this man. This man who barely understood what his own actions were, how they worked, or the function of them. The fight was meaningless, and with the others next attack it was over, one way or another.
Honestly forgot this was even going on, with everything else I've been trying to get done around here.
“My sleep comes to an end, doesn’t it? Soon, I will awaken. Soon, things will become clear. Already I can fell the tug, the pull of a battle I’m meant to win – but have yet seen. I’ve slept for the entirety of my life, and I have no clue who or what I’m supposed to be doing. I know nothing of my destiny, save that I’m meant to rule – to lead. But what I am to lead, and who I am to lead, is yet unknown. I’m not sure I’m ready, the time is too soon. Or is it? I don’t know, I’ve slept for so long. Yet, I can feel it…I’m awakening. O’, but am I prepared for what is to come? Idea give me strength.”
A hundred thousand years of sleep leaves the mind groggy and the body entropic, and when attached to a psychic so powerful as to continue evolving and growing its mind despite those two inevitable outcomes, it projects that same in a powerful field. While his place of slumber was untouched for all those years, many came and walked through the caverns above – many found themselves within the impossibly large range of that psychic field. In the end, despite his body remaining hidden, the vicinity of his chambers was given a name. One that permeated through the Multiverse, and drew in those who wished to usurp it for their own.
The Entropic Passages.
Now, though, the entropic field seemed to be drawing in on itself. The creatures which evolved to live within it could feel it, and they continued to scurry toward the epicenter – trying to keep themselves inside the exertion of that psychic force. They dove deeper into the caverns, they turned throughout the tunnels and continued to follow them downward – until they ran into walls impassable, dead-ends that seemed to be just that. Most of those creatures burrowed, they continued their trip downward. Far beneath the explored part of the cavernous region, they dug deeper and deeper – until it almost seemed like they would run into the core of Soran itself.
Finally, though, they congregated upon a massive cavern, one with no openings save for the ones they created. They moved toward the far side, which was shrouded in darkness so thick even their keen eyes couldn’t make out anything outside a couple of feet. It was there, in that ever-expanding darkness, that they ran into a wall. Literally, and suddenly the entropy which plagued their bodies, fed them and evolved them into monstrosities, simply ceased. Their multilayered eyes shifted, and with their presence light flickered on. They looked upward, in the dimness created by floating, orange bulbs of luminescence. Those with cognitive functions beyond base instincts understood, on some level, that they peered upon their end.
Their eyes focused on the outline of a gargantuan doorway, closed and seemingly locked – and through it their keen ears picked up on the sounds of a voices singing, dulcet tones acting in perfect harmony, though the words were grotesque and sounded like someone speaking through a mouth full of nails. Some undoubtedly tried to run, but no matter which direction they took off in, they slammed into a solid, impenetrable wall of nothing, falling dead at the very touch. Others were curious, or just hungry, and they began to push on the doorway. No matter their strength, no matter their efforts, it would not move. Whatever lay beyond that door, whatever was locked away inside this place, they were keen to find out and sink their ferocious, animalistic fangs into its flesh.
Awakening The Beast
Suddenly the singing stopped, and it was then that he knew his time was here. A thousand years passed since he began thinking for himself, and though he knew the time was coming – he was unprepared. At least, in his mind. His eyes snapped open, and only darkness met them. It meant little to him, for he’d never known what it was to see. His fingers shifted, though he didn’t understand how or what caused them to do such a thing. His body was weak, his energy gone – poured into the psychic web he’d woven in his sleep, which was now unraveled. Powerless, defenseless, he lay on his back atop a stone pyre, a monolith at each corner. The sound of the voices lingered in his mind, threatening to lull him back into that magic sleep. Yet, they slowly began to fade from memory, and with their passing his energy returned. Still, though, he was weak beyond compare and measure. A fly, should it have taken the notion, could have wiped him from existence.
But where his body was weak, his mind was strong. It wasn’t something he thought, but just something he instinctually knew. Casting out with his thoughts, he found someone disturbingly close – though its presence was one he felt for centuries. The Watcher. His watcher, the guard who stood sentinel for his weakened form. It was put into place on the day of his birth, and from that moment on held the unending task of watching over the sleeping form. Finally, though, awakening came. The other felt his mind touch its own, and knew their time together was at an end. The sound of footsteps walked across the stone floor, and he felt a hand touch his own.
“It is time, my lord. The civil war comes, and your awakening is upon us. It is time for you to do what you were created to do.”
“I don’t know what that is, I don’t even know who I am. What can I do?”
“You can fight, my lord. I will teach you. My life, for yours.”
With those words, spoken in a language dead and forgotten for thousands of years – and with great wonderment from the slumbering monstrosity who didn’t even know it could talk, much less knew language – the watcher began to fade. Its hand slipped upward, touching his temple. Without warning, knowledge flooded into him – and strength as well. Suddenly it understood, it knew what it must do – what the prophets meant when they foretold his coming. He knew about the prophecy, he knew how to speak, to walk, to talk. Most importantly, he knew who he was. He knew what he was created for, what purpose he served. The embodiment of the watcher faded, and realization flooded into him that it was simply his subconscious made physical.
Along the coast of Liaita, things were happening beyond the control of the natural born denizens of Soran. Monsters from another world invaded, and they sought to end the life of one of their own. The ground shook with the bombardment of the two opposing forces, and the very sky seemed to be ablaze with the might of their energies. The shark man and the warrior Thane fought for their lives in a brutal battle, Agron and Sarach existed with only their true purposes to uphold – and Singar watched it all unfold with his own devilish grin for plans that could come to fruition. However, deep in the Entropic Passages, something far more sinister lurked.
The massive doorway swung open, and finally those creatures trying their might to get in found themselves with access. They ran in, their variously sized legs propelling them at different speeds – but toward the same thing. They sought food, but yet seemed to not understand that they were the food. Everything was lain into place so long ago. The placement of his body, the psychic field which evolved those specific creatures. It was all part of the greater plan, a plan put in place by Idea himself, long before the Val’gara were fully established as a thing. The gut-wrenching sound of bones snapping, of blood spilling, and the blood-curdling screams of creatures being ripped to shreds perforated the cavern outside the door, but none could stop themselves from entering. A thousand. A hundred thousand. Two hundred thousand. Their bodies were consumed, their life-force shoved down the gaping maw of a man-like creature far beyond anything they could comprehend. It chose this form from memories, but of what and who it was unclear. It called itself he by wrote, for that was the gender it chose to become. Suddenly, the sound stopped. The creatures were all but gone, save the Spider Queen herself, who was by and large the most capable and intelligent of the lot.
Still, though, she was compelled within the room – her massive eight legs pulling her into the light. Her concave eyes landed on the back of the human-like thing, as it adorned itself in its clothing. The horror on her face, looking across the blood-spattered remnants of the room, paled only in comparison to the tone of the other skin. A hundred thousand years without sunlight, after all, would make anyone a little light in complexion. She recognized him not, though it was evident he existed long before her species, much less before her own tiny, infantile lifespan.
The resounding snap of bracers being latched over naked wrists resonated throughout the room, and the creature turned its gaze from the mirror-like liquid, to look directly at the spider queen. “Why, hello there, madam. I must apologize for the mess, but such a long sleep will make you quite ravenous. Your children were delicious, as were the other so-called predators that made my chambers their home for so long. Your survival, however, is tantamount upon your usefulness. I have some business, you see, on the coast of Liaita. If you could be so kind as to point the way?”
One of her arms shifted, without her willing it to do so, to point directly toward the battleground upon which Megalodon and Thane fought. Her eyes widened further than usual, and her thoughts were only of running away – yet she could not make her body move. He stepped forward, his body shifting as he did so. As his teeth sank into her throat, and he began ripping her body to part, eating her like he’d done so many others before he, she could only think of the horror which she’d witnessed. Nothing compared to the terror his true form wrought upon her.
The rumbling ground would have given them warning, if the ground didn’t already rumble so much from the very nature of their meeting. Singar, Thane, Megalodon, Agron and Sarach should have known what was coming – but unfortunately their own actions made it nigh impossible to ascertain anything. However, when it came they were all made quite aware of what was happening. The rumbling intensified, and with a great blast of power the Gates of Doloran exploded. The Entropic Passages pushed upward, rocketing sod and rock, dirt and grass into the sky. The massive structures which made up the Gates themselves cracked and crumbled, falling against one another before crumbling to pure nothingness.
The Niraans, who first prophesized the coming of him, understood what was happening – and maybe Thane could remember enough of their old ways, to know the story of what this meant. The others, though? They’d have no clue. It would be fearful enough, his display of might at blowing apart major locations on the surface with nothing more than a single, concentrated burst of energy – but would they truly understand what was happening? Would they be capable of comprehending the true nature of their enemy?
The Val’garans would. At his creation, he was imbued with such powerful psychic energies that, upon his awakening the Hivemind itself was reconstituted and reactivated. What was lost with Brobdingnag and the death of Idea returned with his coming. They could sense one another again, speak to one another mind-to-mind, and no longer did they have secrets from one another. No longer could they simply hide their true feelings. They flooded through, and fed off one another. The link reestablished itself, and through it he could speak to them.
“What have you done, you insufferable children? Father dies, Mother dies, and you suddenly begin to squabble amongst yourselves? What ignorance is this? What manner of stupidity flows through you? How could this have happened? You were supposed to conquer, to consume. You were meant to destroy, but not one another. Not ourselves. Disciple, come.”
As he spoke the words, Disciple appeared on the battlefield below – though how or what brought him here could only be surmised as the strength the newcomer held. Suddenly, he – too – shifted and appeared before them, once more in the man-like form originally seen by the spider queen. “You were given a task, Disciple. You were to uphold our standards in the event anything happened to Father. You were to hold us together, to protect Mother. You failed.”
With a movement quicker than lightning, his hand snapped closed around Disciple’s neck – effortlessly lifting him from the ground. Arm fully extended, the sheer terror in Disciple’s eyes spoke enough of his true power. Through his hand, he drained the others considerable energy. Almost as soon as he lifted him, he flung his arm to the side and launched the emptied husk of a creature toward the waters. The sound of his body splashing into the liquid resonated in the near-quiet that seemed to have fallen around him.
“And you, Thane…you were meant to convert your world, yet you seem to have failed in your task. You were meant to be more than any before you, but you have become less than nothing. You and the others let the Hellion kill mother. And worse yet, you allowed him time to escape. Have you found him? Do you have even the tiniest, faintest idea where he might have gone? Of course not, you’ve been too busy fighting one of the weaker Heralds, and for what? You are a failure, my child, far and beyond Disciple’s own does your failure reach.”
His head shook, and though he wanted to strike out, he held himself in check. Instead, he turned his attention to the shark-creature.
“And you…your failure runs deepest of all, but only because it is a single, constant thing. You, who have conquered nothing in our name, who has converted and consumed so little that the number itself is negligible, fight back against your Elders. Your superiors. We, the Heralds of true strength, who were created by Anathema, or in my case Idea himself, are the successors to the antecedent’s reign. Not you, who was created from the boredom of lesser beings. You are nothing, a child playing with a loaded gun, and only hoping you don’t accidentally shoot yourself.
“This ends now. You will return to your posts, you will do your fucking jobs, and you will stop this ignorant aggression. If you wish to test me, to test the true power of Idea, then remember this – what I do to you cannot be undone. Your death, by my hand, is eternal. So, you are given your choices. Fall in line, do as you were made to do now that the Hivemind is reestablished, and we can once again be a seamless machine working toward the same goal…or fight against it. Test your willpower against the Will of Idea.”
He made no motion of aggression, and gave no name that any could have discerned throughout his speeches. He wasn’t even sure he had one. He was the Will of Idea, the living embodiment of something that once was and came again. All that meant, for them, was that to fight against him was to fight against the very thing that drove them, that allowed them to continue their pitiful existences for so long. He was, as far as he and they knew, the living embodiment of Idea himself.
Or maybe he was just a complete psycho who slept for way too long, and was given fanciful notions about what his considerable power meant. Either way, it was clear he wasn’t just your normal Herald, since the very act of his awakening reestablished a psychic connection that spread throughout the Multiverse, and touched every living Val’garan mind. Whatever, and whoever, he was – they certainly weren’t up against anything like they’d ever faced before.
A hundred thousand years of sleep leaves the mind groggy and the body entropic, and when attached to a psychic so powerful as to continue evolving and growing its mind despite those two inevitable outcomes, it projects that same in a powerful field. While his place of slumber was untouched for all those years, many came and walked through the caverns above – many found themselves within the impossibly large range of that psychic field. In the end, despite his body remaining hidden, the vicinity of his chambers was given a name. One that permeated through the Multiverse, and drew in those who wished to usurp it for their own.
The Entropic Passages.
Now, though, the entropic field seemed to be drawing in on itself. The creatures which evolved to live within it could feel it, and they continued to scurry toward the epicenter – trying to keep themselves inside the exertion of that psychic force. They dove deeper into the caverns, they turned throughout the tunnels and continued to follow them downward – until they ran into walls impassable, dead-ends that seemed to be just that. Most of those creatures burrowed, they continued their trip downward. Far beneath the explored part of the cavernous region, they dug deeper and deeper – until it almost seemed like they would run into the core of Soran itself.
Finally, though, they congregated upon a massive cavern, one with no openings save for the ones they created. They moved toward the far side, which was shrouded in darkness so thick even their keen eyes couldn’t make out anything outside a couple of feet. It was there, in that ever-expanding darkness, that they ran into a wall. Literally, and suddenly the entropy which plagued their bodies, fed them and evolved them into monstrosities, simply ceased. Their multilayered eyes shifted, and with their presence light flickered on. They looked upward, in the dimness created by floating, orange bulbs of luminescence. Those with cognitive functions beyond base instincts understood, on some level, that they peered upon their end.
Their eyes focused on the outline of a gargantuan doorway, closed and seemingly locked – and through it their keen ears picked up on the sounds of a voices singing, dulcet tones acting in perfect harmony, though the words were grotesque and sounded like someone speaking through a mouth full of nails. Some undoubtedly tried to run, but no matter which direction they took off in, they slammed into a solid, impenetrable wall of nothing, falling dead at the very touch. Others were curious, or just hungry, and they began to push on the doorway. No matter their strength, no matter their efforts, it would not move. Whatever lay beyond that door, whatever was locked away inside this place, they were keen to find out and sink their ferocious, animalistic fangs into its flesh.
Awakening The Beast
Suddenly the singing stopped, and it was then that he knew his time was here. A thousand years passed since he began thinking for himself, and though he knew the time was coming – he was unprepared. At least, in his mind. His eyes snapped open, and only darkness met them. It meant little to him, for he’d never known what it was to see. His fingers shifted, though he didn’t understand how or what caused them to do such a thing. His body was weak, his energy gone – poured into the psychic web he’d woven in his sleep, which was now unraveled. Powerless, defenseless, he lay on his back atop a stone pyre, a monolith at each corner. The sound of the voices lingered in his mind, threatening to lull him back into that magic sleep. Yet, they slowly began to fade from memory, and with their passing his energy returned. Still, though, he was weak beyond compare and measure. A fly, should it have taken the notion, could have wiped him from existence.
But where his body was weak, his mind was strong. It wasn’t something he thought, but just something he instinctually knew. Casting out with his thoughts, he found someone disturbingly close – though its presence was one he felt for centuries. The Watcher. His watcher, the guard who stood sentinel for his weakened form. It was put into place on the day of his birth, and from that moment on held the unending task of watching over the sleeping form. Finally, though, awakening came. The other felt his mind touch its own, and knew their time together was at an end. The sound of footsteps walked across the stone floor, and he felt a hand touch his own.
“It is time, my lord. The civil war comes, and your awakening is upon us. It is time for you to do what you were created to do.”
“I don’t know what that is, I don’t even know who I am. What can I do?”
“You can fight, my lord. I will teach you. My life, for yours.”
With those words, spoken in a language dead and forgotten for thousands of years – and with great wonderment from the slumbering monstrosity who didn’t even know it could talk, much less knew language – the watcher began to fade. Its hand slipped upward, touching his temple. Without warning, knowledge flooded into him – and strength as well. Suddenly it understood, it knew what it must do – what the prophets meant when they foretold his coming. He knew about the prophecy, he knew how to speak, to walk, to talk. Most importantly, he knew who he was. He knew what he was created for, what purpose he served. The embodiment of the watcher faded, and realization flooded into him that it was simply his subconscious made physical.
Along the coast of Liaita, things were happening beyond the control of the natural born denizens of Soran. Monsters from another world invaded, and they sought to end the life of one of their own. The ground shook with the bombardment of the two opposing forces, and the very sky seemed to be ablaze with the might of their energies. The shark man and the warrior Thane fought for their lives in a brutal battle, Agron and Sarach existed with only their true purposes to uphold – and Singar watched it all unfold with his own devilish grin for plans that could come to fruition. However, deep in the Entropic Passages, something far more sinister lurked.
The massive doorway swung open, and finally those creatures trying their might to get in found themselves with access. They ran in, their variously sized legs propelling them at different speeds – but toward the same thing. They sought food, but yet seemed to not understand that they were the food. Everything was lain into place so long ago. The placement of his body, the psychic field which evolved those specific creatures. It was all part of the greater plan, a plan put in place by Idea himself, long before the Val’gara were fully established as a thing. The gut-wrenching sound of bones snapping, of blood spilling, and the blood-curdling screams of creatures being ripped to shreds perforated the cavern outside the door, but none could stop themselves from entering. A thousand. A hundred thousand. Two hundred thousand. Their bodies were consumed, their life-force shoved down the gaping maw of a man-like creature far beyond anything they could comprehend. It chose this form from memories, but of what and who it was unclear. It called itself he by wrote, for that was the gender it chose to become. Suddenly, the sound stopped. The creatures were all but gone, save the Spider Queen herself, who was by and large the most capable and intelligent of the lot.
Still, though, she was compelled within the room – her massive eight legs pulling her into the light. Her concave eyes landed on the back of the human-like thing, as it adorned itself in its clothing. The horror on her face, looking across the blood-spattered remnants of the room, paled only in comparison to the tone of the other skin. A hundred thousand years without sunlight, after all, would make anyone a little light in complexion. She recognized him not, though it was evident he existed long before her species, much less before her own tiny, infantile lifespan.
The resounding snap of bracers being latched over naked wrists resonated throughout the room, and the creature turned its gaze from the mirror-like liquid, to look directly at the spider queen. “Why, hello there, madam. I must apologize for the mess, but such a long sleep will make you quite ravenous. Your children were delicious, as were the other so-called predators that made my chambers their home for so long. Your survival, however, is tantamount upon your usefulness. I have some business, you see, on the coast of Liaita. If you could be so kind as to point the way?”
One of her arms shifted, without her willing it to do so, to point directly toward the battleground upon which Megalodon and Thane fought. Her eyes widened further than usual, and her thoughts were only of running away – yet she could not make her body move. He stepped forward, his body shifting as he did so. As his teeth sank into her throat, and he began ripping her body to part, eating her like he’d done so many others before he, she could only think of the horror which she’d witnessed. Nothing compared to the terror his true form wrought upon her.
The rumbling ground would have given them warning, if the ground didn’t already rumble so much from the very nature of their meeting. Singar, Thane, Megalodon, Agron and Sarach should have known what was coming – but unfortunately their own actions made it nigh impossible to ascertain anything. However, when it came they were all made quite aware of what was happening. The rumbling intensified, and with a great blast of power the Gates of Doloran exploded. The Entropic Passages pushed upward, rocketing sod and rock, dirt and grass into the sky. The massive structures which made up the Gates themselves cracked and crumbled, falling against one another before crumbling to pure nothingness.
The Niraans, who first prophesized the coming of him, understood what was happening – and maybe Thane could remember enough of their old ways, to know the story of what this meant. The others, though? They’d have no clue. It would be fearful enough, his display of might at blowing apart major locations on the surface with nothing more than a single, concentrated burst of energy – but would they truly understand what was happening? Would they be capable of comprehending the true nature of their enemy?
The Val’garans would. At his creation, he was imbued with such powerful psychic energies that, upon his awakening the Hivemind itself was reconstituted and reactivated. What was lost with Brobdingnag and the death of Idea returned with his coming. They could sense one another again, speak to one another mind-to-mind, and no longer did they have secrets from one another. No longer could they simply hide their true feelings. They flooded through, and fed off one another. The link reestablished itself, and through it he could speak to them.
“What have you done, you insufferable children? Father dies, Mother dies, and you suddenly begin to squabble amongst yourselves? What ignorance is this? What manner of stupidity flows through you? How could this have happened? You were supposed to conquer, to consume. You were meant to destroy, but not one another. Not ourselves. Disciple, come.”
As he spoke the words, Disciple appeared on the battlefield below – though how or what brought him here could only be surmised as the strength the newcomer held. Suddenly, he – too – shifted and appeared before them, once more in the man-like form originally seen by the spider queen. “You were given a task, Disciple. You were to uphold our standards in the event anything happened to Father. You were to hold us together, to protect Mother. You failed.”
With a movement quicker than lightning, his hand snapped closed around Disciple’s neck – effortlessly lifting him from the ground. Arm fully extended, the sheer terror in Disciple’s eyes spoke enough of his true power. Through his hand, he drained the others considerable energy. Almost as soon as he lifted him, he flung his arm to the side and launched the emptied husk of a creature toward the waters. The sound of his body splashing into the liquid resonated in the near-quiet that seemed to have fallen around him.
“And you, Thane…you were meant to convert your world, yet you seem to have failed in your task. You were meant to be more than any before you, but you have become less than nothing. You and the others let the Hellion kill mother. And worse yet, you allowed him time to escape. Have you found him? Do you have even the tiniest, faintest idea where he might have gone? Of course not, you’ve been too busy fighting one of the weaker Heralds, and for what? You are a failure, my child, far and beyond Disciple’s own does your failure reach.”
His head shook, and though he wanted to strike out, he held himself in check. Instead, he turned his attention to the shark-creature.
“And you…your failure runs deepest of all, but only because it is a single, constant thing. You, who have conquered nothing in our name, who has converted and consumed so little that the number itself is negligible, fight back against your Elders. Your superiors. We, the Heralds of true strength, who were created by Anathema, or in my case Idea himself, are the successors to the antecedent’s reign. Not you, who was created from the boredom of lesser beings. You are nothing, a child playing with a loaded gun, and only hoping you don’t accidentally shoot yourself.
“This ends now. You will return to your posts, you will do your fucking jobs, and you will stop this ignorant aggression. If you wish to test me, to test the true power of Idea, then remember this – what I do to you cannot be undone. Your death, by my hand, is eternal. So, you are given your choices. Fall in line, do as you were made to do now that the Hivemind is reestablished, and we can once again be a seamless machine working toward the same goal…or fight against it. Test your willpower against the Will of Idea.”
He made no motion of aggression, and gave no name that any could have discerned throughout his speeches. He wasn’t even sure he had one. He was the Will of Idea, the living embodiment of something that once was and came again. All that meant, for them, was that to fight against him was to fight against the very thing that drove them, that allowed them to continue their pitiful existences for so long. He was, as far as he and they knew, the living embodiment of Idea himself.
Or maybe he was just a complete psycho who slept for way too long, and was given fanciful notions about what his considerable power meant. Either way, it was clear he wasn’t just your normal Herald, since the very act of his awakening reestablished a psychic connection that spread throughout the Multiverse, and touched every living Val’garan mind. Whatever, and whoever, he was – they certainly weren’t up against anything like they’d ever faced before.
So, having reviewed the profile just now, I'm going to say I've found no real fault with it - nothing in it really stands out as overtly powerful, it follows a consistent theme, and everything plays off of everything else. I'm not sure if I'm missing something that someone else saw and was questioning or what, but as far as I'm concerned you're accepted as is.
HOWEVER, I'm going to say this. In this story, there is no Earth. So, as long as your lore accounts for the fact nobody has been on the planet Earth in over a hundred thousand years, and your references to Gaia and Terra aren't you using synonyms for Earth to mean Earth, then we're good.
HOWEVER, I'm going to say this. In this story, there is no Earth. So, as long as your lore accounts for the fact nobody has been on the planet Earth in over a hundred thousand years, and your references to Gaia and Terra aren't you using synonyms for Earth to mean Earth, then we're good.
There's nothing to approve until you have enough people.
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