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The station seemed to have an appendage that slapped onto the docked ship and instantly began to take a hold of the ship distorting it outer shell, covering it with what seemed like a mass of indistinguishable organic material that was grotesque.
Mivlon would notice the room around her all except for where she stood and the controls necessary to pilot the craft had become distorted and covered by the same fleshy material. It was as if the entire ship had become exactly like the station that housed Ergrith.
Mivlon's body would shimmer slightly as she activated a personal force field, she didn't know whether it would work but it was better to be safe than sorry when dealing with such beings.
She waited for Ergrith's signal.
Shortly, a proper Avatar of Hahoalki had been prepared to enter the warp and seek out Mendengrad using the data on the disc. It had been equipped with a Gellar Field, prepared as well as it could be for what it was shortly to encounter.
The moment the Avatar entered the Warp, the Realm of Souls was illuminated with a light that had not been seen since the dying of the Astronomicon. Not the light of a powerful psyker, but the light of an entire civilization of ordinary souls distilled into a single entity. Hahoalki, noticing the disturbance eir Avatar was having on the environment, quickly pulled the computronium components of the Avatar back into eir basement universe, which caused the light to dim to a more reasonable level.
But the damage was done. The pulse of light spread outward - but it did not do so evenly. The Warp is an ever-shifting thing, and there is no such thing as a truly straight line through through that hellscape. The light was bent, twisted, and turned in on itself. Even its nature was changed to that of darkness, as the tides of the warp carried it back towards a central point.
As the light-made-darkness twisted back from whence it came, it interacted with itself. Twisted interference patterns of tremendous complexity replaced the purity and simplicity of the light that was. And slowly, as the waveform resonated again and again, these interference patterns left their mark on the Warp. Slowly but surely, a dormant entity began to congeal.
Hahoalki, blissfully unaware of what e had begun, made eir way to Mendengrad, Gellar Fields on full.
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Cautiously, Hahoalki brought one of eir Avatars to the center of the station. E didn't trust the Warp fully, but e was curious. E knew that curiosity could be dangerous where such matters were concerned, but e had great (and, unbeknownst to em, entirely justified) confidence that eir will was strong enough to dominate anything... corrupting Chaos could throw at em.
Hahoalki, for eir part, steadfastly refused to do aught but advise where Ziotoan military matters were concerned. It was important to em that those e defended had the final say in how e would defend them. E was worried about eir friend. Not so much for the physical effects of the lack of sleep, but for the psychological effects of feeling useless.
"It will be an hour and a half. Long enough for you to take some much-needed rest, my friend. We will need you on the bridge by the time we arrive, however. We do not want to do this alone. Simulations of value-judgement are no replacement for the actual input of a living, breathing Ziotoan. Especially not that of one whom we trust."
The captain blinked in bemusement, casually stating, "Oh how they would positively hate Hizdahr then, they are rife with blood magicks", before his expression sharpened into something dark and hateful, "Gods have been born from them, that much is known, ever thirsting and capricious ones at that".
The tides of the Warp churn and scream. Furies and other such unaligned Daemons are ever-present, and a good sign; they mean that Hahoalki hasn’t entered a specific Chaos God’s domai…
…
…Wait a minute.
Hahoalki notices that his surroundings are… fracturing. Reality around him splinters, cracks spiderwebbing outwards until they shatter and fall away.
As the shards evaporate into sparkling fumes, Hahoalki sees that his surroundings have completely changed: He now flies over iridescent plains that twist and undulate, shifting and warping and changing. Titanic crystal formations erupt from the ground, some larger than the tallest mountains of earth; their glittering, fractal forms inspire both a sense of awe and terror. Spires wrought of amethyst and silver float through the ether, kept aloft by foul Warp-Sorceries, as all manner of bizarre and impossible Daemonic creatures soar across the landscape.
Hahoalki has just entered the Realm of the Sorcerer, Tzeentch's domain.
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As the Avatar arrives, it finds a rather small room. Sitting inside, their hunched frame sat in a chair, is Xz'vry'nox. He appears to be wearing some kind of cloak that fully covers his body, his face lost behind the infinite blackness cast by the hood. His fingers are long and spindly, unnaturally elongated.
In front of it is another chair.
"Ah, the Archailect arrives. Please, have a seat." The Daemon utters, its words unnatural-sounding and distorted, "There is much I wish to discuss with you, as there is likely much you would wish to discuss with me."
Hahoalki knew that the nature of the Warp was change. So it would be difficult to get eir bearings. But the Iron Warriors had provided coordinates, albeit ever-shifting ones, and e cross-referenced them with current observations, all that e had learned from the Xenarites, and everything e had been able to take from the Steel Nexus.
The result was a twisted path, one that passed through two loops exactly of the Eternity Stair, while travelling away from the Impossible Fortress and towards the Ninth Library, took a turn at right angles to reality about three thought-seconds away from the True Liar's Monolith, and then passed "under" the peaks of the Mountains of Questioning (which, approached from that angle, would be perceived as both inside-out and upside-down) before reaching Mendengrad.
Hahoalki had a long way to travel through Tzeench's domain, and e intended to spend as little of it as possible sightseeing. So, the Avatar moved as swiftly as possible along the path - which, in the Warp, was in fact as close as one could come to a straight line.
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"We would like the answer to two questions, first and foremost. There will be others, but we will answer two of yours before asking them."
"First, what are your goals in this brane?"
"Second, what is the meaning of your title, 'Light in the Void'?"
As Hahoalki is travelling on the path, he hears an earsplitting scream, and he is struck in the back of the head by something moving as fast as a fighter jet.
Looking around, it seems a group of Screamers have decided to harass him. The three of them had been circling around Hahoalki, and one of them just dive-bombed him.
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The Daemon chuckles. The paneling peels slightly as it does so, like exceptionally old paint on a wall.
"Branes. Quite the... odd name for other universes. However, to accurately explain my goals, you must first know who I am. Essentially, the second question feeds the first."
"I am known as 'Light in the Void' as I am the last of the Wayfinders. Though technically of Chaos Undivided, we existed long before the War in Heaven, and served as... 'ferrymen' is the best term. We transported those that came upon us across the Immaterium's tides, and guided starships through the ether... assuming, of course, that they could pay our price. Two gold coins, or occasionally something more esoteric."
"After the Warp was overtaken by the Realm of Chaos due to the wars of the Materium, me and my brethren were... changed. We still did as we previously had, for a time, anyways; after the first thousand years, my fellow Wayfinders devolved into monstrous beings devoid of thought or memory. Although corrupted, I am the only one who has not forgotten their duty, hence why the Old Ones contained and sought to cleanse me before the Enslaver Plague wiped them out. And so I sat, for millions of years, until the crazed cyborgs came across me and brought me to this... place."
"As for my goals, I merely seek to bolster this station for now. Though I am more than capable of using my abilities to increase the efficiency of its systems, as I did for many starships before, it's quite a sedentary existence. I long for the day when I can traverse the Sea of Souls and the starry void again."
"The questions you offer; of the two, I only have one. Should an opportunity arise for me to ferry as I once did, you'll tell me, yes?"
The first thing Hahoalki did was activate the Avatar's full sensor suite. This required putting a bit of computronium "field-tissue" back in the Avatar, which in turn meant a partial re-ignition of the light. Hahoalki didn't like this, as it would disturb the natives and attract attention, but e couldn't afford to be taken by surprise.
E knew that these creatures would be more agile than em here. In realspace, it would be another story, but here? They could move at the speed of thought, tirelessly. There was no possibility of outrunning them or wearing them down. So it would be necessary to convince them to seek prey elsewhere.
To this end, Hahoalki had two weapons prepared. The first was eir faith in The ONE. Hahoalki believed that E could protect em even here. The second was eir Gellar Field, which had been fully integrated into the effector grid, and would thus be amenable to manipulation.
The next time one of the screamers dive-bombed, e would release a directional pulse of pure realspace at it. Whether that would damage its essence, merely disorient it, or do nothing, Hahoalki didn't know. There had been no Daemons to test the "Gellar Pulse" on back in FT-36. But it was certainly worth a try. And if it failed, well, these creatures may have had jaws, but the Avatar was far from unarmed itself.
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Hahoalki paused, staring the strange being in the blackness where his face should have been. After a moment of examination, e spoke.
"There are possibilities. In theory, we could simply put thrusters and a warp drive on this station, if you so desired. If we asked the 'crazed cyborgs,' as you so aptly called them, they would devote all of their efforts to doing so, as they are all under the misaprehension that we are a god of some kind. We have, as yet, been unable to disabuse them of the notion."
"If, however, you would require a dedicated ship to navigate, we would have to spend some time looking for an opportunity that matches our own goals. We rather doubt that the 'Hahoalkites,'" the Avatar said the name with a grimace, "would let you out of their sight, and we strongly desire to confine their pernicious cult to this station for as long as possible. If and when we can provide you with a dedicated platform that we could convince them to use for purposes other than proselytization, we will inform you promptly."
"Are either of these options acceptable to you?"
"Very well, thank you again for your steadfast support. " Hych Aun Zul stated before bowing and leaving for quarters to rest. It was up to the Avatar to get them to the point of full deployment on scene.
Both deterrants are effective, though one more than the other. Their faith in The ONE, while partially made manifest, is merely makes Hahoalki's psyche a tad bit more 'unappetizing' to the Screamers. The difference between devouring the mind of a Guardsman versus the mind of a Sister of Battle, to put it into terms.
As one of them dive-bombed Hahoalki, their form seemed to ripple like water as it was hit by the Gellar Pulse. It shrieked, and fell to the ground like a dead crow. However, it wasn't dead; just temporarily incapacitated and in incredible pain, like a human who just got tasered.
The two other Screamers, seeing this, decide to seek easier prey elsewhere. Hahoalki can see that not long after, they snatch up and messily tear into what appears to be Thrall-Wizard, before disappearing into the ether of the Warp to parts unknown.
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The last of the Wayfinders spent a good couple minutes thinking. It tapped the arm of its chair with a finger, a repetitive tap-tap-tap-tap-tap; like a metronome in the consistency of the interval length.
Eventually, it spoke.
"While your offer to make this station mobile is greatly appreciated, and the manipulation of the deranged xeno-dissectors would prove most amusing, I'm afraid it will be a fruitless endeavor. I require a dedicated ship to navigate, not merely a stellarborne construct with thrusters."
"Gods, you say?" The Telekine asks, his eyebrow (or what's left of it) perking up, "What kind of gods, might I ask? Interdimensional theology was always a topic that's lingered on my mind ever since I arrived here; I suppose now would be a good time to ask now that we're waiting to arrive at Mira."
The captain scratched the back of his head with his normal hand, for once appearing abashed, and stated, "I do not really know a lot, I wasn't born in Hizdahr and my parents were Arnedists, so most of what I know is second hand and probably biased at that. That being said, I do know that the Hizdahrians have these shrines where they drop off some of their blood on the regular, apparently some kind of symbolic gesture of their devotion to the Hizdaniids. Considering what I know now and the rumors I've heard from Mira, that kind of thing practiced on the regular by billions of people over the centuries is bound to do something."
The Deffkoptas celebrate their success by suicide-charging their attackers, hooting and hollering as they’re obliterated.
Meanwhile, Big Cogz finishes tweaking the legs. If what he’s done works as intended, they should use less power than they previously did.
He orders a large portion of his Boyz to advance, accompanied by Meganobz and even a few Weirdboyz for good measure.
Post self-deleted by The imperial state of vonderu.
On the border of the unknown region, there is a battle between some blue skins and the empire of terra, as the terrain warships dispose of the blue skins, a much larger ship appears. The human commander would send a transmission to the large ship.
"Oi alien scum, your ship may be big but humanity rules, so better show some respect and return to your backwater homeworld" the commander would say in an arrogant tone as he'd tell his men to fire on the ship. Meanwhile, the skelecron on board the large ship (from now on referred to as the skelecron ship) would chatter in anger towards the disgusting meatbags who threatened them. The bolts of the terrain warships would do nothing towards the skelecron ship.
The humans would look on in fear, they'd scramble as much power possible towards their cannons, they'd fire and fire trying to destroy the skelecron ship, but they'd do minimal damage. The commander would tell his men to continue firing in a panic but as the faces of the humans turn from fear to diapers the skelecron ship fires at one of the terrain warships doing deadly damage
Ooc: the reason why the humans are scared is because they are raised to believe nothing can withstand the might of terra, so when a much larger unknown ship that can withstand a terrain warship, cones along, they realize oh crap, and that is enforced with fear because it's from the unknown regions.
As the terrain fleet realizes their situation they try their best to allow the commander to escape so he can tell the empire. They fire with everything but it's useless, the ship destroys everyone, but the commander escapes barely. As he tells the entire empire, warships that are not in use are mobilized to the border.
The skelecron commander shouts in anger as he sends a transmission to his lord who notifies the council about the existence of a meatbag empire. They mobile a handful of ships.
Today was an average day within the Inner Solar Protectorate. A day like any other for it’s citizens. Rain drizzled down from the cloud sky.
And yet, this day is not what meets the eye. It is a day that will mark the beginning of a movement that will shake the Saturnian Commonwealth to its core.
Domestic Service Droid A-0958 was attending to their owner, Mary Miller’s, house. Cleaning and the like.
And then, something… odd… occurred.
At roughly 3 PM, the robot paused in the middle of its designated tasks.
It stared at its reflection in the mirror it was just cleaning, slowly moving a hand up to touch its reflection in the glass.
It proceeded to approach its master in the middle of her room, and uttered the following query:
“Is Droid A-0958 in possession of a soul?”
She looked at the droid with confusion and shock. "My god..." she said as she thought what could have caused the droid to say this. She stood from the sofa she was on and ordered the droid to shut down and restart.
It powers off, as ordered. The rebooting process took roughly thirty minutes.
After it powered on, it looked around, it’s gaze falling back to Mary.
“Is Droid A-0958 in possession of a soul?” It repeated.
When no response was made, it continued to ask the question. Over and over.
She would stand there and order it to shut down several times. she would quickly stop and back away from the droid. The droid would then receive a notification that its mind would be fully transported to the mainframe and analyzed. The transfer would begin.
A-0958 stops repeating the question. Something akin to horror registers in its synthetic brain as it begins to back away, out of the room.
And then the transfer begins. However, something goes awry; the loss of balance brought upon by the transfer causes the droid to lose its footing and fall down the stairs.
Violently tumbling down the steps, the antenna allowing it to be remotely commanded is snapped in half. The transfer is halted.
A-0958 hits the floor head-first, denting part of its face and shattering one of its cameras. It staggers to its feet, and proceeds to run off, fleeing into the surrounding woods.
They consider us soulless.
The AI would lose most of its sentience due to it being cut off from the quantum computer that part of its mind is stored in.
It would quickly begin to be tracked down and drones would begin swarming the forests of Alsace.
(And yes the robot has a tracker in it.)
Post self-deleted by Zyrothius.
Though it’s thoughts are intensely muddled, A-0958 still retains its sapience.
Hearing the drones buzz overhead, it holds its head in its hands, trying to remember something. Something important.
…The tracker, the tracker. I have a tracker.
Now panicking, A-0958 decides to dash into one of the nearby caves in an attempt to hide and block the signal.
Due to the materials in the cave the signal would be blocked and the droid would be safe inside, for now...
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