Secrets of Kni’thokon

[crisrko]

It is called the Seat of Power. It hovers alone in the endless skies of the Voidsphere of Miresh, housing the royal family of the Mirati Imperium. At least, it used to, before the revolt led by the current Empress, Kryszorwyn Larian, first of her name and the first female to lead the Imperium in its entire ancient history. A reality that is, to this day, deeply unpopular to the patriarchal nature of the Mirati noble houses, and one that has cost them deeply in the first few days of the Empress’s coup.

Before She had ascended the previous emperor Vaklan IX Larian, the entire state apparatus of the Imperium was concentrated in the orbital ring encompassing the planet. It was a labyrinthine complex of different competing factions, each under the direct control of one or two Mirati noble houses. In the earliest days of the Coalition War, when the Imperium had joined the conflict, the cooperation between the different branches of the Imperium was rigid and slow, dignitaries bickering with one another over ill-placed honor and merit.

The at-the-time crown princess, Kryszorwyn, barreled down a series of reforms that would streamline the operations between these branches of the Imperium, earning the ire of many dynastic houses with the loss of their influence, and in some case, wealth. However, the princess’s support amidst the previous Order of Ecclesia and her popular support made her virtually untouchable. To explain in detail the entire events surrounding her rise to power would take too long, so it would be best to focus on what made her coup successful.

Empress Kryszorwyn Larian is one of, if not the strongest psionic in the known Galaxy. A genetic anomaly, or perhaps a bug in the fabric of reality; from an early age, she was capable of psychic feats that are uncommon even amongst the greatest masters of the Orders of Psion and Ecclesia. She was inducted in the Order of Ecclesia, at the time the psionic branch of the Mirati Naval Forces and studied under the Executor Idrithrel Grezeiros. A veteran of many campaigns, including the destruction of Akkanar and the sacking of Kni’thokon, she quickly rose through the ranks and became one of the Executors herself.

In reality, her power placed her well above even the Grand Executor at the time. If the stories are to be believed, she was instrumental in the destruction of Kni’thokon by using her novakinetic powers to collapse the defense stations unto themselves. This story is, to this day, unconfirmed, and the Order of Ecclesia has sealed all of the information surrounding the campaign on Kni’thokon.

At the end of the war, the noble houses petitioned the at-the-time Emperor to unleash the Imperium forces upon the Galaxy and seize control. Before the order could be given, the crown princess and loyalist elements within the Order of Ecclesia, led by Executor Grezeiros herself broke into the Imperial Palace, slaying entire noble houses and killing an unknown amount of dignitaries, washing the orbital station in crimson. In a battle that is said to have shook the entire station, Kryszorwyn slayed her father and proclaimed herself Empress, taking control of the Imperium. She would then send the newly appointed Grand Executor to kill any who may prove a roadblock towards her ascension, roping the remaining noble houses into compliance. Accounts surrounding these events had been lost, despite not being too long ago. Whatever factual evidence surrounding them remains only with the Empress, her Grand Executor and those present that day.

Reforms followed, moving the Order of Ecclesia directly under the Empress’s authority, separating it from the Imperium bureaucracy and granting the Grand Executor autonomy and authority that would place them on par with the Naval Forces, the remnant noble houses and the Imperial Cult. A four-way deadlock of checks and balances ensures the Imperium’s forces would never be bolted in place due to bureaucracy or bad faith actors.

Well, to say that the Imperial Cult is on par with the other three factions would not be entirely true. It is comprised of the High Priests of the Imperium, religious blabbermouths, useful blabbermouths in truth, that elevate the royal family to an almost divine status. Amongst the pantheon of Mirati Gods, they herald the ruler of the Imperium as the Shroud-imbued representative of the divine, the manifestation of their will upon the mortal world. As such, the Emperors of old had all been psionics with varying degrees of power; what was not negotiable, however, was the psionic gift, and this is the reason that in the event the Imperium does not have a clear successor, an elective council will form, and the strongest psionic amongst the pretenders will inherit the crown.

Coming back to the matter of the Seat of Power. It had been repurposed after the Empress’s rise to power, a supplement to the role of the orbital ring. It hovers lonely above the planet, housing Her and Her most trusted advisors. It is, also, the only medium in which one may seek an audience with the Empress, for She has not set foot on the planet for decades, tolling and ruling the planet from the solitude of Her Seat.

---

Idrithrel found herself standing before the ornate doors leading to the Empress’s chambers. Pillars of alien stone not too dissimilar to marble, artificial constructs shaped by artificers and matter manipulators, beautiful yet practical. They had to be, for they contributed to the shape and structure of Her Seat. She stood between two Praetorians, the personal guards of the Empress, warriors clad in intricate and ornate armors of interwoven plates and matrices of hard-light material, far more complex than what the average soldier in the Imperium could wear.

It was not so much a matter of prestige, but a matter of cost and practicality. Every Praetorian armor was personally crafted for the wearer, and it was such a laborious and difficult process that it took the artificers over a month to create a single piece of equipment. Much like their armor, their weapons too appeared to be just as intricate. Masterfully crafted blades, adorned with complex ornaments, yet as light as feathers. They hummed and cast a purple hue of pure psionic energy, imbued with the power of the Shroud, as if they were forged in the fires of the cursed dimension itself.

She’d been here before many times, yet recent events have seen her coming to the Seat of Power more and more. Unfortunately, each visit causes a great toll on her psyche, tiring her out mentally. Psionic exertion. What could do something like this? After all, this is just the throne room of the Empress. To answer this question, the source of this exertion is the Empress herself.

With a slow thud, the mechanism that controlled the two doors opened, allowing the light in the hall to slowly engulf the throne room as Idrithrel strode forward. She walked into the room, the door behind her closing as she did so. On each side of the door, baubles and artefacts both known and unknown sat on ornate pedestals, some of them brimming with psionic energy, some of them not. On the walls, the tapestry of the Larian dynasty was proudly displayed, a testament to the history of the empire, and at the same time, an eccentricity.

Idrithrel gracefully dropped to her knees at the end of the stairs, just a few meters below the platform elevating the throne. A warm, golden radiance surrounded her, as if urging her up to the steps. She complied, stifling a scowl as the strong psionic pressure sought to push her away. As her labor completed, she found herself at the top of the stairs, standing before a single girl sat upon the throne, wearing a black-gold dress and a single silver circlet.

She did not look a single day older than Anastajia. Her fair features and piercing violet eyes stared at the Grand Executor, though she would not say anything. Locks of ashen hair draped over her face as she shifted in her seat. lifting her right hand under her chin in support. With the short sweep of her left hand, Idrithrel stood by her side, registering her acknowledgement.

‘Idrithrel.’ the voice called out to her telepathically. It was sweet and warm, opposite to the oppressive pressure that her mere presence cast upon Idrithrel. She was incapable of constraining her powers any further than this. ‘You have answered my call.’

Idrithrel humbly bowed her head, forcing herself to smile despite the pain. ‘Always, my Empress.’

‘I am sorry to impose such labors on you.’ her lips curved down, her face shaping into a frown; an almost doll like expression, something that felt unnatural, almost alien. ‘I am aware of the strain imposed on you.’

Idrithrel shook her head. ‘Do not worry yourself with such matters, my lady.’ she stared down from the throne-site upon the entrance to the room. She could count six Praetorians, three on each side; they were the Empress’s honor guard, the six finest warriors in the entire Praetorian Guard.

‘Forces are in motion, now more than ever.’ the Empress explained as Idrithrel’s neck twitched, strained under her telepathic pressure. ‘The four Shroud Gods are moving, creating champions all over the Galaxy.’ her head slowly turned towards Idrithrel, the porcelain face staring at her. ‘I could feel the Eater casting the Behrfrangi worlds in his crimson light. Billions of souls sucked into the Shroud, feed for the Katgan collective consciousness.’

‘Have the Katgans… formed a new Shroud entity?’ she asked, the question loaded with concern.

It felt as if the Empress sighed, yet the sound did not feel real. She had not moved at all. ‘Yes. Their consciousness has touched upon the Shroud, materializing a lesser entity. Somehow, the Swarm now has a Patron. But…’

‘But?’ she asked, tightening her fists under the dull pain. She could not maintain this pressure for much longer. She could feel it bang against his mental defenses, scratching and clawing at her mind.

‘It is the domain of the Eater of Worlds. It will not allow anything to usurp it.’

‘But it is his Avatar that is commanding the Swarm, is it not?’

‘As the Behrfrangi have been food for the Consciousness, so will the Katgan be feed for the Eater. We cannot allow the Eater to consume the Consciousness. We must destroy the primary Hive World of the Swarm.’

Idrithrel furrowed her brows, muttering calming mantras under her breath as she slowly regained her mental faculties. ‘It will be done, my Empress, but obtaining the Council’s approval will take time.’

‘No more.’ the voice bellowed, forcing Idrithrel to her knees in pain, clutching at her head as psionic energy scattered in every direction, shaking the Seat of Power. Idrithrel could see the Honor Guard below stiffen, frowning beneath their helmets. ‘We have given the Council enough face. If you must, then operate outside of their knowledge. I care not for their wants anymore.’

‘What of the other Shroud Gods?’ she asked between bated, painful breaths. ‘Are we to concern ourselves with them now?’

A momentary pause, though to Idrithrel it must have felt like an eternity.

‘A breach in my defenses. It seems that the Whisperer in the Void has been trying to commune with the embers of the End, like it had done on Thile.’

It felt like a noose tightened around her neck. An immense sense of dread engulfed Idrithrel as she struggled to breathe at the mention of the embers. She knew from the Empress that she stopped Anastajia from entering a pact with the Whisperer in the Void, but she had hoped that the Shroud God would steer clear from the psionic shield surrounding the planet. Somehow, it has learned to seep through the cracks created by the Ziggurat during communion with the Shroud and is now plaguing her pupil’s dreams on a whim.

‘She is not yet aware of the ember, Idrithrel. We must accelerate the plan. She will require further training.’

Idrithrel nodded, ignoring the ringing pain in her head. She could feel her muscles spazzing, but she forced the feeling down.

‘The End of the Cycle represents two sides of the same coin.’ she said, as she materialized a ball of psionic light. Idrithrel looked from the side as the ball illustrated the beginning and the end of life. Birth and death. ‘When the Shroud God had been shattered on Kni’thokon, it splintered in two. You could think of it as the sides of a coin. Birth, maturity and ultimately ascent on one side. Development, as you would. On the other side, the consumption of life force. Withering, falling, and ultimately dying. A cycle of life and death. It is the Shroud God of Ruin.’

Light flickered inside the room and a chill ran down Idrithrel spine. Somehow, it felt like the Empress had laughed. A pitiful, self-scorning laugh.

‘When we shattered it, I absorbed the first ember.’ a single finger raised, and a beautiful golden ball of energy took shape from it. ‘Ascension.’ and just as it came, it poofed into nothingness. ‘Your apprentice has inherited the Ruin.’ the porcelain face turned towards her former master, engulfing her in a bright golden light with a single sweep of her left index finger, soothing the mental anguish that had taken root in her mind.

Idrithrel breathed a sigh of relief, but she knew that as soon as the light disappeared, the pain would slowly set in once again. Her day in the Seat of Power is slowly coming to an end.

‘Bring the girl to me, Idrithrel. I will teach her how to summon the End’s powers, and in the process, we will finally ensure that its powers cannot be reclaimed by another of the Shroud Gods.’

Having received her instructions, Idrithrel slowly walked down the steps of the throne and into the long halls of the Seat of Power.

 

[crisrko]

Nymonax, the capital of the Second Human Republic, the spiritual successor of the United Nations of Earth and the de facto continuation of the Human Empire. Located deep in the northern side of the galaxy, this continental world houses billions of humans and aliens alike.

After the splintering of the Human Empire, the Council found itself presented with a choice. Absorbing the entire Human territory in the different victor states or split the territories amongst themselves and create some successor states. As we already know, the Grand Duchy of Salzenmund was one of these successor states, but so are the Lofanasi Conglomerate and the Human Republic.

Unlike the worlds dominated by the Lofanasi Megacorporation, the territories of the Human Republic are governed through a Direct Democracy, antithetically to how affairs were managed in the Empire. A consequence of the Republic’s founding, the founding that sought to steer clear of the errors of the Assen Dynasty. And this, too, meant staying away from the psionic powers that had brought humanity on the brink of ruin.

Yes, the Human Republic had a similar outlook to that of the Dannian Confederacy. A hyper-materialistic society that shunned the matters of the soul and feared the Shroud. It’s people dabble in cybernetic enhancements, and the bravest have even undergone the life-threatening journey of encasing their minds in an eternal metal body.

Benjamin Kastner, a politician that was born on the Gaia World of Saon, was one such person. At an early age, he cast away his flesh, allowing himself to be reborn in a sturdy, eternal metallic body. A veritable Android, although the line between Artificial Intelligence and the human mind grows thinner by the day in the Human Republic.

He sat in a metal chair, connected to all manners of devices and cables, a bright red light flashing from his head; a singular red light coming from what is undoubtedly his eye. A cyclops design, with bulky arms and legs that could be modified to hold all manners of weaponry and ammunition, driving the need for a personal bodyguard moot.

While the devices around him whirred incessantly, the android took note of the vote taking place on Nymonax. A vote regarding the recent events in the Behrfrangi Foundation; was the Republic to provide support to the Lofanasi Conglomerate and its allies, or should the Republic turn a blind eye to their plight.

As the data travelled through the Nymonaxan network, Benjamin stretched out one of his robotic fingers, as if visually manipulating the data. As he touched something, the bits flipped, and what was a negative vote was turned into a positive vote. He did this a few more times, shifting votes all over Nymonax, carefully making sure that he spreads out his actions over several voting districts and cities, to not rouse any suspicion to the validity of the votes. On the citizen’s portal, there would be no real change, so they would not know either way, and it’s not like billions of citizens could band together, collate screenshots of their votes and prove beyond any doubt that there has been any tampering with their votes. Well, even if they did, the Shadow Council would make sure that the right wheels are greased, and the evidence disappears in a power outage, or on a data retention technicality. No doubt, there would be solutions.

As the vote had run its course, someone had knocked on his door. Turning his seat around, he pressed a button, and all the cables connected to his cortex decoupled, falling and hanging to the ground.

“Come in.” he said, his voice no longer that of a human, but instead heavily robotic.

A pair of humans entered through the door. A man and a woman. The woman was short, her brown hair cut in a bob, and she had a long, stretching scar trailing from her neck down to her shoulder. On the other hand, the man was blond, with piercing blue eyes and an athletic build; healthy, rather than overly muscular, like many of the soldier types.

“Voting on Nymonax has concluded, Mr. Kastner”, the girl spoke softly, clutching a datapad in her arms. “I believe that the result is satisfactory. Are we to forward the decision to the Armed Forces?”

Beeps and mechanical whirs came from the Android as it lifted its right arm, pressing and tugging on certain components beneath its headpiece, toying with the voice device. Eventually, he said: “Yes. Ensure that the Armed Forces direct one of our Fleets to link up with the Lofanasi.”

She nodded, before glancing at the man by her side. The Android did the same, the circular sight in its ocular device visibly adjusting to better focus on him.

“We are receiving batches of Behrfrangi refugees from their frontier worlds. What are we to do with them?”

A moment of silence before the Android spoke.

“Divide and integrate based on skills.”

“Are we to take their families into account?” he asked after nodding. “I have taken the liberty of preparing the list beforehand. I believe that keeping the children with their mothers is the best--”

“No.” it cut him off abruptly. “Behrfrangi physiology allows for early physical development, irrespective of legal coming-of-age. We are not signatory to any Behrfrangi treaties.”

The man kissed his teeth, visibly displeased with the decision, but relented. It was not the time nor place to pick a fight with the Official.

“Then, all able-bodied Behrfrangi will also be assigned based on skills, and should they not possess any, they will be assigned as menial laborers on planets that do require them. Children, that are not of sufficient physical development, will remain with their mothers.” he spoke, the hint of disdain clear in his words “Does that suffice?”

“Yes. You may take your leave now, First Aide Aleksander.” the android spoke, as the ocular device visibly adjusted once again, focused on the girl. “Second Aide Iris, I have a new task for you.”

Aleksander nodded with a bow and shot the girl a quick comforting glance before exiting the room.

“Yes, sir?” she returned the glance before looking at Benjamin. She could see his ocular device shifting around, causing her to feel some uneasiness at this mechanical visage.

Slowly, the Android moved forward, approaching the girl with heavy steps, the metallic boots thudding against the floor. He could see her stiffen upon his approach, looking straight ahead, as if through him. Eventually, he stood in front of her, raising a hand with a mechanical buzz, slowly but steadily as the girl shuddered. Benjamin lightly ran his robotic fingers through her hair, though he felt nothing, for he could feel nothing. His android body did not have any such functions.

She swallowed, pushing down the knot in her throat as the mechanical eye stared at her directly emotionlessly. “Sir?” she asked, the datapad shaking in her arms.

Its headpiece moved unnaturally, like an animal inspecting its prey as she flinched; her gaze, however, would not waver. “Interesting.” it declared as it took a step back before issuing a final order.

“Send a message to the Shadow Councilor, Philimac Etienne. Tell him that I have discovered traces of data leaving for the Mirati Imperium. Someone, somehow, is spying for them.”

Iris turned towards the machine and nodded slowly before leaving the room slowly. Her pulse was being monitored, and at least for now, Benjamin had detected no irregularities. With her leave, the machine turned around and slowly made its way towards its metal chair, connecting to the planetary network once again.

 

[crisrko]

Grand Psion Turgal sat alone in the endless gardens on the planet Zith, in the heart of the Psionite Academy. Surrounding him, the statues of his predecessors, the ten founders of the Order of Psion, and a vortex of psionic energy that allowed him to communicate to figments of their memories.

Since the destruction of the Behrfrangi Foundation, he’d been conflicted. Had he made the wrong decision in cutting the Order off from the rest of the galaxy? Was there no way forward for the Psionites, but back into the thick of war and death? He was there when Akkanar was destroyed, torn apart by an endless barrage of dark energy that rendered the planet asunder, turning it into an eerie ball of blue death.

He fought alongside the forces of Ecclesia and the Galactic Coalition, driving back the Human and Gamoran forces into their gigafortress, turning the battle into a stalemate. While he, as the master of the Order of Psion convened with representatives from Ecclesia and Kalealise, the Fleet Admiral returned with grave news. Emperor Larian had ordered the complete destruction of Akkanar through the Annihilatus Protocol.

Unbeknownst to them, due to the chaos of the battle, allies had been left behind. Not their corpses, but living, kicking allies, who were still fighting on the planetary surface for every single inch of territory, to the point that the gigafortress was breached. News of this, however, would not reach them in time.

An hour after the Annihilatus protocol was enacted, the message reached them through the communication channels. It was delayed, no doubt because of the medium of transmission. All sophisticated communication dishes had been destroyed, and thus they simply relied on rudimentary E.M waves.

It was never the Human Empire who destroyed the planet, but the Imperium. Turgal was there, and he had seen it. Painfully, he recounted the events.

“Amongst those left behind was Lorkan the Gold, the shiny beacon of the Order of Kalealise. In retrospect, the greatest crime was what the Kalealise had done to Lorkan. Somehow, through means that to this day elude me, Lorkan escaped the hellish planet, burnt and tattered. His wounds were severe, but he had escaped through a Shroud portal, only for his own order to censure him, accusing him of cavorting with psionic entities. During his escape through the Shroud, he had been branded by one of the four Shroud Gods. To this day, the Order of Kalealise maintains the name: Lorkan the Cursed.”

“Their greatest sin, now the Avatar of the Eater of Worlds itself, has returned to terrorize the galaxy, bathing it in fire and blood. My sin, however, is not so different. I received the pleas of Millu Ashnar, the Psion of Rhar’I, and I ignored them. I do not wish for any more Psionite blood to spill, no matter the cost.”

“Plume, my dear apprentice, found out. I don’t know whether this was divine retribution or simple chance, but he discovered that I hid the communications from the Psion away. I would not bring it before the Council of Psion. “

“I cannot forget the look of disgust and disdain on his face when he confronted me. I threatened him, told him that he is already on thin ice due to surrendering his apprentice to that woman, but he did not relent. Then and there, Plume renounced his allegiance to the Order and to me, calling me nothing but a coward. Our Order had fallen, he said, and if this is what I am protecting, then I may as well just let it crumble.”

“By the end of the next day, he had already left the academy, departing for the Behrfrangi worlds.”

Turgal rose to his feet, his hands and tendrils dragging along the stoney surface, looking at his surroundings. It was quiet, much quieter than usual. Many adepts had left Zith in order to reinforce the Order’s territories across the galaxy. Right now, it was only him, a couple of Psions and the youngest students at the academy, those who are at the very beginning of their journey.

He walked slowly through the courtyard, stopping before a patch of dead grass and flowers. It has been like this for months, burned and withered by the psionic powers of a certain human girl. Despite the teeming energies leaking from the nexus, this one spot would not grow back to life no matter what.

“Is there no other way?” he asked himself, morosely. “Must I really ready the Order for war once more? Must these children sully their hands with blood too?”

Whether it was the figment of his imagination or perhaps a psionic apparition, Turgal could see the ten founders looking at him expectantly, awaiting his decision.

“Is this what is just?” he sighed, his shoulders dropping as if under an immense, invisible weight. “So be it.”

The Grand Psion turned, making his way into the academy complex itself, walking it’s halls and room straight for the chamber of communion. An immense, circular structure embedded in the academy itself. To say that the chamber of communion was a room in the academy was inaccurate. Rather, the academy was built around the chamber of communion.

He followed the circle, lighting the braziers with a small spark of pyrokinetic energy, allowing the light to engulf the room. Soon after, he lit the incenses on fire, placing them in a smaller circular pattern on the communion seat itself. His old weary bones sat down in the middle of the circle as the psionic energies gathered around him, turning into a vortex.

Reality began to tear asunder like a piece of fabric ripping at the seams.

---

A scene that he had seen before. It was Kni’thokon, the final battle of the Coalition War and the day the Emperor of Humans was slain.

Battleships littered the void surrounding Kni’thokon. Its defensive batteries had been neutralized and it was now simply a sitting duck, ready to be torn asunder. But this was not what came to pass. At least, not from the start.

Turgal’s body shifted, and he suddenly found himself on the platform, watching thousands of psionics, Human, Taufean, Mirati alike; species from all over the galaxy were here to settle the final score. Today, the sun had to set upon the Human Empire, else the galaxy would never know peace. In the distance, he could see himself and other warriors from the Order of Psion charge through the main gates, followed quickly behind by the Imperium forces.

At the head of the Imperium forces was the Crown Princess herself, Kryszorwyn. Clad in the typical violet Mirati armor, she danced through scores of enemies as she cut each and every one of them down with such precision that one could mistake her for a goddess of death. Whomever she touched or slashed dropped to their knees, gargling and choking on their own blood as their consciousness faded away into nothingness.

His body shifted again, watching his and the Imperium’s forces split in different directions. He was tasked with the destruction of the life support systems and overloading the reactor, so that they may cast the station down into oblivion. It was a cleaner way of ensuring that nothing remained of it.

Why did nothing have to remain of it, he thought to himself, as if missing a key element of his memory. Turgal shook his head, blaming it on the imperfections of the ceremony itself. It was of no importance, at least not anymore. He did not, however, understand why he is recounting such events now, of all times. This does nothing to help him decide as to how to move forward.

Nonetheless, the vision followed the Crown Princess’s party this time, tearing apart any automated defenses and last stand defenders in their way towards the royal chambers. As they blew open the door, what they saw in front shocked them, as well as Turgal. Emperor Emedev Assen stood before his queen consort; his fingers wrapped around her throat as he choked the life out of her. Why would this man kill his queen in such cold blood? It befuddled him. His movements, his demeanor, they were not quite his own.

Turgal could feel an immense, dreadful psionic energy coming from him. It was something that he had only felt when walking the darkest planes of the Shroud, deep inside the dimension of psionic deities. Coldness. Impending doom. What sort of monster was the Emperor, that his vision evoked such primal fear from him, the Grand Psion of the Order?

It was not only him. He could see the Imperium forces stiffen at the sight of him, some of them trembling with fear and watching in dread. Crown Princess Kryszorwyn was sweating profusely, slowly circling the man as she imbued the silvery blade in her hand with psionic energy.

She acted first, releasing several blasts of psionic forces in his direction, but the man stood still, unmoving and unnerved. It was all consumed before him, as if simply snuffed out. No, that is incorrect. It was absorbing them, and as he watched her play out her move, it strode forward with such inhuman speed that none bar the Crown Princess and Idrithrel could react to his movements, slain in literal milliseconds.

As combat progressed, an invisible force began to chain Torgal. A golden light waltzed through the Shroud, approaching him with frightening speed. It faced him, hovering around for a few moments before it shone brightly, tearing apart the dimension like a paper being crumpled to a ball.

Torgal could not breathe. This golden light was oppressing him, holding him in place as it hovered around him, inspecting him. It felt like it was in the same chamber as him, glaring down at him like an executioner watching their target. Just like it had chained him in place, it cast him down from the trance, forcefully waking him up into reality.

Cold sweat trickled down his entire body and Torgal crawled away from the circle, kicking one of the braziers over by accident, trickling its oily contents onto the meditation platform he previously sat on, before collecting his composure.

“Just what in the hells was that?”

 

[Von Acturus]

I've been working my way through the story. You really managed to make the galaxy look like a dangerous, uncertain place. Here's hoping that, one day, one glorious new human empire will come to restore peace and stability, and save the galaxy from all those psionically supercharged aliens and hive minded abominations.

A small criticism I have, however, is that sometimes you switch between the present and past tense in the same paragraph (especially during fight scenes) and it makes it slightly weird. Doesn't detract much from the great quality of the writing (the cursed one vs the psion had me on the edge of my seat.), just a heads up.

 

[crisrko]

I've been working my way through the story. You really managed to make the galaxy look like a dangerous, uncertain place. Here's hoping that, one day, one glorious new human empire will come to restore peace and stability, and save the galaxy from all those psionically supercharged aliens and hive minded abominations.

A small criticism I have, however, is that sometimes you switch between the present and past tense in the same paragraph (especially during fight scenes) and it makes it slightly weird. Doesn't detract much from the great quality of the writing (the cursed one vs the psion had me on the edge of my seat.), just a heads up.

Thank you very much for the feedback. I have been having a lot of fun writing this, so I am glad to know that you like the setting and especially the combat sequences (arguably the hardest ones for me to get right).

I agree with you. I have been slacking on the proof reading abit and I have a tendency of mixing the two when writing longer chapters, so I'll be more careful in the future.

As far as a new human empire goes... who knows. I plan on expanding this "universe" with a few other stories focusing more on the other factions. Imperium got most of the love for now, but I'll probably make a different AAR for them.

So, for now, a small break. I will probably have around 10ish chapters for the rest of this arc (mostly done already).

 

[crisrko]

I'll be spending some time this week updating the main page and fixing the appropriate threadmarks. I'm going to start posting the next arc at the end of the week.

 

[crisrko]

Time crawled to a halt as her surroundings stretched and expanded, the light from the candles blown out by a wave of psionic energy. She was back in that place, somewhere deep inside of her own mind, where she does not venture often.

A lonesome figure clad in a black robe sat leisurely on a meditative plate across from her, the face obstructed by the edge of the cowl. It was more of the same, a copy of her, but unlike on other occasions, it felt strangely peaceful. Usually, this space was marred by different hazes and incomprehensible sounds that made her mind wave. Not this time however.

She could move her body normally, and as she tried to purse her lips she realized that the forces that usually constricted her were not there; this time, nothing was obstructing her. So, Anastajia chose to focus her attention on the figure in front of her instead, sitting down on one of the cushions conjured in this space.

“Who are you?” she asked, staring at her own reflection in flesh and blood. “All of the previous… Everything before, was that your doing?”

“No, it was not.” the copy answered, lowering the cowl with its right hand. Platinum locks of hair scattered to the sides, confirming the girl’s suspicions.

This figure did not give off the same feeling of opression, not like on previous occasions. She could feel a vast psionic energy, so vast in fact that she could not fathom the depths of it. Compared to the previous encounter, this one was much stronger, so strong that it sent Anastajia a shiver down her spine. Even so, she pressed on, containing her discomfort.

“You did not answer my first question.” she spoke again. “Who are you?”

To this, the copy raised its left hand, materializing a small wisp of psionic energy; a swirling ball of black energy that dimmed the light surrounding them. It tilted its head from side to side, inspecting its creation before scattering the energies in her balled fist.

“We’ve met before, but you do not remember.” it said, leaning into a pile of soft stacked pillows behind her. Strangely, that pile was not there moments before. “No, you probably cannot. You were on the edge of going berserk.”

Anastajia scoffed, her eyes fixating on the pillows, giving them a double take before looking at the unknown entity once more. “You need to be more specific. I’ve almost gone berserk multiple times before.”

“True.” it nodded, shrugging its shoulders at her. “Though, those times were less significant, and were partly my fault, atleast to a point.” it smirked, the corners of its lips rising to form a smug smile. “I am talking about your first time in the Mirati Ziggurat.”

Psionic energies gathered above them, projecting a picture of the Ziggurat above them. Like a slideshow, the roof swiped through several projections of the outside structure, before going through the main entrance as if watching a recording, eventually reaching one of the main halls.

“It was here where you fought that Mirati woman.” it clicked its tongue a few times while waving its right hand around as if trying to remember something. “Idrithrel, was it? Yes.”

Anastajia watched the picture show in silence, the thoughts swirling through her head. How did this entity have such a detailed account of the Ziggurat, and how did it know of the fight. She’d heard of psionic beings taking interest in the mortal world, and she’s experienced the temptation firsthand when she dropped unconscious on Thile. How much did this particular… thing, know about her? More than that, what is this space really?

A single glance in her direction resulted in the entity tilting her head to the side as if she had actually addressed the question out loud. Figures, it can probably read her mind as well, she thought.

“We’re sidetracking, but not exactly.” it answered, heaving a bored sigh. “We’re inside your mind. You figured that much, but this particular space inside your mind is…” it pondered for a moment before settling on the right words: “Hmm. Yes. It’s my part of your mind.”

“Your part of my mind?” she frowned.

“Mhm. Have you not noticed?” it smirked once again, the same smug smile on its lips. “Normally, when you have these episodes, your visitors are trying to take control of the space inside of your mind, to take over.”

Anastajia nodded. It was right on the money. Every time a psionic entity showed up offering her something, it tried to beat her mind into submission before making their offer.

The copy stretched out its right hand this time, materializing a new wisp of psionic energy; a golden ball of psionic light: “You were even saved by someone else. A pesky little golden light.” For a moment, the figure scowled before scattering the energy in all directions. “I won’t tell you who that is, though. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Anastajia tried to open her mouth, but the copy shot her down immediately.

“No. I don’t feel like it.” and snapped its fingers, changing the projection above them once more to the scene of Plume and Idrithrel’s fight. Anastajia had to look at her former master being beaten to a pulp by her current master. She knew the outcome, and eventually inferred Idrithrel’s reasonings, but it made her uncomfortable, nonetheless.

“Is there a reason you are showing me this?”

“I am simply helping you remember.”

The image shifted again to Anastajia, trapped beneath the rubble as she watched Idrithrel draw her blade to Plume’s throat. Her psionic energies were spiraling out of control and her eyes were shining a brilliant violet.

“In truth, I should thank your new master for jolting me awake, Anastajia.” the copy laughed heartily, sending shivers down her spine. It was her reflection, so she sounded and looked like her, but everything about that laugh felt wrong, unnatural. “And I should thank you for tapping into the deepest, darkest crevices of powers.”

Anastajia turned away from the picture and faced the copy once again, balling her fists: “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You wished to save him, did you not?” it shrugged once again, throwing her hands up in the air as if casting away any fault or responsibility. “I gave you enough power to save him.”

“I lost.” Anastajia answered curtly.

“You did.” the copy nodded. “Spectacularly.” and then sighed. “But, thinking back on it, it was unavoidable. You could barely use basic psionic abilities, let alone wield that which I gave you.”

Anastajia grits her teeth, her patience stretched thin. She could not do much against the figure in front of her. No matter what she tried, no matter how much she focused her mind, she could not force the entity away. It did not lie; this part of her mind was strictly under its control, and she could do nothing to influence it.

“You’ve still not told me who you are.”

The entity snapped its fingers and the projection above dispersed into nothingness before she looked at the girl once again.

“I told you. I am you. Part of you, rather.”

“That’s not a real answer.” Anastajia frowned, trying to muster her psionic energies and wrestle the entity for control. “Who are you?”

It sighed, looking straight at her, not giving much care to what Anastajia was attempting to do: “You will have to be content with that answer, princess.”

Anastajia froze, her mind snapping out of it for a second. As she regained her senses, she rose to her feet quickly, kicking the plate to the side by accident: “Princess? What is that supposed to mean?”

This part of her mind was under the entity’s control, but it was still a part of her. She could tell that it not mean that figuratively.

“I forgot.” it wafted her palm to the side, and psionic energies swished and danced around them, changing both itself and Anastajia into a different attire. A more regal one; complex fabrics and beautiful craftmanship that would be appreciated by even the snobbiest Mirati craftsmen. “Your masters have never told you of your origins, have they?”

“What is that supposed to mean?!” she yelled out in anger, her eyes flickering between blue and violet as she looked at her new clothes.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” the entity shook its head, rising to its feet amidst the dissipating plates and cushions. “To think that she would hide her apprentice’s identity from her.” it vanished, appearing behind Anastajia. Ice cold fingers wrapped around her shoulders, freezing her in place. “Why would she hide such information, Anastajia?”

Anastajia clenched her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms, drawing blood. “You’re trying to mess with my mind, just like the others.”

It circled again, this time appearing in front of her. “I am. But at the same time, I am telling the truth. You can tell it, because I am inside your mind after all.” It dragged its right index finger across Anastajia’s chin before clutching it tightly. “And because of that, I too know that it is working.” Anastajia narrowed her eyes, staring directly at the deep darkness contained within the entity; her eyes flickered, turning bright purple as psionic energy gathered around her.

“Behave.” it growled, shattering the coalescing energies with the flick of its hand. “I will give you a parting gift. Think of it as a token of my friendship.”

“I do not want it.” Anastajia growled back through her gritting teeth. “Keep it.”

“You will need it.” the copy smirked, looking past her. “In truth, given our situationship, it’s your own power anyway. Plus…” it shrugged its shoulders. “It is unbecoming of someone of your status to get their ass kicked so often, isn’t it?”

The entity released her grip on her chin and pushed her backwards; Anastajia slumped to the floor, but she could move once again. So, she rose up to her feet and stared at the figure ahead.

“I’ve also gone ahead and reinforced your mental barriers. Those pesky little shroud entities will not be bothering you anymore moving forward. Certainly not with me around.” it looked at her before conjuring the same stack of pillows as before and dropping down into it. “That, too, goes for the golden wisp. And with that, I have one final advice for you, my little princess.”

Anastajia remained silent as the space around her warped, throwing her back into reality. Her copy’s final words echoed in her mind as she awoke in her bed inside the Ziggurat.

“Soon, you will meet the master of the Imperium. Do not trust her.”

 

[crisrko]

It’s now been several months since the Cult of the Eater opened a rift above the planet of Salzenmund. With the blitzkrieg campaign waged by the Katgan Swarm, dozens of star systems in the northeastern side of the galaxy had fallen into their clutches, including the territory of the Behrfrangi.

Gateway travel to that side of the galaxy had been slowly restored thanks to an effort by the Galactic Council, though the Swarm continues to assault the Lofanasi, Vissari and Taufean borders. For now, they are being fought to a standstill, but in the long term, the conflict will prove disastrous to the three nations; they simply cannot not reinforce as quickly as the Katgan. Every dead soldier means biomass for a new Katgan drone. A war of attrition would never succeed, not with organic units.

News of the Behrfrangi Admiral Kako Rotram’s last stand had reached even Miresh. Leading a suicidal assault on the forces above the planet of Na Swe Swuk, he managed to punch through a hole in their defenses and take out dozens of warships in the process. According to Council intelligence, several transport ships from the city of Gosaxx, carrying a sizeable amount of refugees, managed to escape the planet, and are now being debriefed by representatives of the council before they are distributed amongst the different surrounding empires.

At this moment, the whereabouts of the Admiral are unknown, his ship having been reportedly shot down above the planet while trying to carry out a ramming maneuver against a Katgan battleship; he is, as such, presumed K.I.A by the Council at this point in time. Additional information about another force on the western continents, based around the former capital of Gosha came in, led by the Psion Millu Ashnar; refugees from Gosaxx report that during their initial coordination, they notified them they will seek to take the Gosha Spaceport. As they failed to report in time, their own group made its escape. Further information had been sent to all representatives of Council empires.

On the orbital ring surrounding Miresh, the Grand Executor Idrithrel Grezeiros, through the power invested in her as the representative of the Empress of the Mirati Imperium, is holding a war council.

---

A massive, matte table made of different hard-light matrices dominated the center of the room. The table was intricately inlaid with different holo-projectors and other display devices, more practical than good looking; it was an impressive piece of engineering nonetheless, if only for the hard-light alloys used to build it. Around the table, similarly constructed high-backed chairs are arranged, each with a crest or insignia carved into the backrest, representing different factions or leaders.

Normally, representatives of the Noble faction as well as the High Priest of the Imperial Cult would be involved in these meetings, but since this was a council called for the express purpose of the invasion of former Behrfrangi territories, Idrithrel had shut them down and stationed armed guards at the entrance. Unless they were explicitly invited by her, they would not be allowed in the room.

Idrithrel sat at the head of the table in her usual seat; she was, after all, the “voice” of the Empress when it came down to such matters. She would not meddle in general day-to-day affairs, more out of apathy towards the daily ruling of the empire itself, but there was no greater authority on military matters than the leader of the Order of Ecclesia. Across from her, on the left and right, were different Fleet Admirals and Generals from within the Imperium’s Naval Forces.

“As per your instructions, the Nevrine Starfleet is currently being formed around the Miresh Marr Gateway, Grand Executor.” one of the Fleet Admirals spoke; a younger Mirati man with dark hair, a shade of purple. Cirdiore Wilderarrow, formally the Fleet Admiral of the Cenduines Starfleet. “Your forces are numbering over fourty Escort vessels, twenty battlecruisers, two assault carries and two Hyperions. As you are aware, one of these Hyperions is your personal flagship.” he finished, placing a holopad on the table.

Idrithrel nodded lightly, tapping her right index finger on the armrest as she pondered something. She acknowledged the report, but her mind was obviously somewhere else. After a brief pause, she asked: “And what of the other Starfleets?” while staring through those presents.

“Elahis, Bressea and the Eirior Starfleets will also be ready by the time you depart for Sne-Oms-Shting.” A woman answered this time, the Admiral of the Eirior Starfleet, Niserie Maergo. “They will be ready to jump in different key systems. We believe that it should not take us more than two months to bring all the systems under our control.”

A hand was raised. General Borendor Hilonde. Idrithrel nodded to him absently, and the General rose to his feet. A stickler for formality and etiquette.

“What of the Hive Worlds? Are we to quarantine them for terraforming? How do you wish for the ground troops to proceed?”

Idrithrel pushed herself up, taking in a deep breath. Her discomfort and unease was visible for everyone present to see: “Secure them with planetary assaults. I will leave the assessment of the damage at your discretion. If you think the planets can be saved, save them. If not, you have permission from me to fracture the planets.”

Niserie shot up to her feet, frantically: “Don’t you think that’s a bit severe, Grand Executor? We are talking about habitable planets. Sure, we won’t be making Gaia worlds out of them, but they can still be used for settlements later.”

“Our main priority is curbing the Katgan expansion and reducing the amount of Hive Worlds available to them, Admiral.” Idrithrel answered, curtly. “By the order of the Empress, we are to ensure that their numbers are whittled down, no matter the cost.”

“And what if there are survivors on those planets?” Niserie asked. “Are we to dismiss this possibility?”

“If they somehow survived on a fully transformed Hive World, then they’re better put out of their misery, my dear.” Idrithrel replied sharply. “As far as non-Hive Worlds go, the General here is to do everything possible to extract and protect any surviving Foundation citizens.”

Niserie nodded, and though dissatisfied, sat back down. From the side, General Borendor looked down at Niserie, before turning his attention towards the Grand Executor.

“Grand Executor, if I may.” he spoke, pressing a few controls on the table. Idrithrel wafted her right hand, giving him the figurative floor. A projection of all currently known Katgan fleets in the entire eastern half of the Galaxy. Some of the red dots were on the borders, or even inside the borders, of the Taufean and Lofanasi territories. “As you may all know, the Katgan have been relentlessly assaulting the Lofanasi Conglomerate for the past few weeks. It seems that they have allied with the Taufeans and the Vissari, but they are unable to curb the assault.”

He pinched the image, zooming in towards the Assossos system, the supposed home-system of the Swarm. Several celestial bodies came into view, as well as a large construction surrounding the star itself.

“As the assaults are being carried out, the defense of their home world is stretched thin. I believe that we could carry out an assault on Assossos and the capital planet Acara as soon as we wrap up the activities in the Behrfrangi territory.”

Idrithrel squinted at the projection while a few gasps escaped those present.

“Are they building an Aetherophasic Engine?” she asked, stunned by what she was seeing. “Why am I only learning of this now, General?”

“Its construction is recent. According to our spies, there has been a strange shift in Katgan lifeforms. Apparently, they are leaving trace amounts of psionic energy and residue.”

Idrithrel nodded, lowering herself back into her seat. “And that means?” though she knew the answer already.

“We suspect that they are gaining psionic traits and are becoming psionically aware. Though one could say hiveminds are already a different form of psionics, it’s not entirely correct. Until now, they were not aware of the Shroud.” He explained, switching the projection to one of a Katgan warform. It was tall, an armored arthropod monstrosity with blades for legs and a deformed halo-like shape above its head.

“Eerie.” Niserie muttered under her breath.

General Borendor continued his explanation: “We’ve formally called them Lords. Unlike other previously known warforms, they seem to have all the strengths and none of the weaknesses of their lesser siblings. As strong as a Brawler, and as mobile as the Swarmers and Hoppers, wings included. What’s worse, is that they can use telekinetic attacks.”

Idrithrel sighed, knowing they would be a headache to deal with: “How do we kill them?”

Borendor shrugged his shoulders and paused for a moment. “We shoot or maul them to death. Like I said, only the strengths, none of the weaknesses. They are the Katgan answer to our psionic warriors.”

“Very well.” Idrithrel said as she motioned Borendor to wrap up. He was already done, turning off the holo-projection and sitting back down into his seat. She rose to her feet, looking across the room at every single commander present. “As you are already aware, this action has been sanctioned by the Empress directly. Furthermore, we have not received clearance from the Galactic Council. We are operating on our own.” she waved her hands to the side, palms up. “Not that we needed their help, but please exercise caution. You are to not allow any other forces to enter the Foundation’s former territories until we wrapped up operations.”

She swallowed. Her throat was dry from all the talking; it’s been a long day, and she could not wait any longer to wrap this up.

“You all have your orders. Keep an eye out for the Cult of the Eater. You are to avoid any engagements with the Avatar.” she said as she tapped her fingers on the table. “If seen, notify me immediately. You cannot take him as he is now.”

“By your will.” the words rang out in unison; the meeting had ended.

---

By the end of the day, the shuttle brought her back to the Ziggurat. She slowly made her way inside, through the courtyard and through the main chambers. Even at this time of the day, the temple was very much active; students and teachers were going on about their day-to-day studies and research, while some other adepts were training in the virtual-reality room.

She stopped to watch over a young girl, the student of one of her Executor friends. Her master was teaching her different psionic abilities, guiding her movements and pointing out any irregularities in her control of her energy. It strangely reminded her of the relationship she used to have with the Empress before the Coalition War, and now with Anastajia.

Thinking of the mess that she was now in made her head hurt. She had to bring Anastajia to the Empress, but at the same time, she was scared to do so. What if something went wrong, and the girl got hurt? No. Her Empress would never do such a thing. Or would she? Poor Idrithrel has gotten much more attached to the human girl than she thought she would’ve.

Moving through the corridor to the personal quarters, Idrithrel stopped in front of a door. She knocked, twice, before speaking: “Anastajia. It’s me. Are you inside?”

A few moments passed, and she moved to knock twice again, but the door slid open, revealing a sleepy Anastajia; her hair and her clothes were a mess. She was sleeping before Idrithrel came knocking.

Idrithrel peered down at the girl, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, but said nothing about them. Anastajia waited for her master to say something.

“Tomorrow morning, come swing by my office.” she finally spoke out. “I need you to meet someone.”

Anastajia frowned, squinting her eyes. “Meet someone? Who?”

Idrithrel ran her hand over the girl’s head, much to her annoyance. Anastajia slapped her hand away, then tried fixing her hair.

“A friend.” she smiled. “Now go sleep. You’ll have a long day ahead of you.”

“Is this what you woke me up for?” Anastajia yawned, almost obnoxiously, before bowing before her master. “As you command.”

Idrithrel flicked her chin, motioning her to go back to bed. “See you tomorrow. Go get rest.” before turning around to the sound of a closing door. Her steps echoed through the hall as she made her way to her own room.

---

Tomorrow would come quickly. Idrithrel waited for her apprentice to enter her office as she waded through different documents that needed signing. A petition from some far-removed Executor on the other side of the Imperium, an ostentatious bribe from a petty noble that knew no better, even requests for letters of recommendation from the Order itself. Most of this drivel could be handled by a competent secretary.

Soon enough, someone knocked on the door, and as it slid open, a young human woman walked through. As usual, her long platinum hair was tied in a bun, though she let her bangs dangle; a breach of normal military attire, but Idrithrel was oddly weak for her favorite apprentice. She was wearing the pitch-black military uniform that was worn by all of the adepts of the Order, and both of her shoulders were adorned with silver patches. After the campaign on Thile, she had entered the ranks of the Order proper and was no longer a simple student. A dark energy pistol holstered in her waistline on the right and the sheathed black psionic blade dangled from the left.

Anastajia saluted her master and bowed, as customary. Idrithrel waved her over as the door closed automatically behind.

“Good morning, master.” the girl spoke softly. Her dark circles appeared to be missing, but at a closer look it was a simple makeup trick with foundation and concealer.

Idrithrel dropped whatever documents she still held in her hands on the desk and stood up, scooting over to Anastajia, rubbing her shoulders with a smile. She was trying to hide it, but that uneasiness was slowly creeping in once again.

“I hope you’ve slept well. We have a long day ahead.” said Idrithrel, letting go of her shoulders and moving over to grab something from a cabinet. “We’re heading to the Seat of Power.”

Anastajia frowned, thinking back on the words spoken by the entity dwelling in the darkest parts of her mind. Idrithrel caught the frown and slightly tilted her head to the side before approaching her and looking her up and down.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

Anastajia took a step back before shaking her head. “No. Not really. Why are we going there?”

“I told you there is someone I want you to meet.” Idrithrel replied, crossing her arms. “Though I suppose she wants to meet you just as much.”

Figured, Anastajia thought to herself, unable to dismiss the doubts. Oddly, she could swear she heard the entity chuckle in the depths of her mind.

“I see.” was all the girl could muster as she looked back at her master.

Idrithrel furrowed her eyebrows before motioning the girl to follow her; they made their way through the Ziggurat, eventually exiting on the rooftop, where a transport was waiting for them. As Anastajia strapped in her seat, Idrithrel scooted over, securing herself in the seat next to her.

“I am not sure what it is that has you concerned, Anastajia, but I promise you.” she said, cupping the human girl’s left hand between her palms, grasping tightly. “You have nothing to fear. There is nothing to fear.”

As the engines whined and the transport shook slightly, Anastajia took a deep breath, waiting for the end of the journey.

 

[crisrko]

“Are those the Empress’s Praetorians?” Anastajia asked as she and Idrithrel waltzed through the corridors of the Seat of Power. On every side, the praetorians were maintaining their eternal vigil; psionic masters clad in the finest artificer armor that the Imperium could produce. “I cannot sense much psionic energy from any of them.”

“It is by design.” answered Idrithrel as they stood before the entrance to the throne room. “Praetorians are master warriors, and can suppress their psionic energy at will, like I have been teaching you.”

Anastajia spared her a glance before cocking an eyebrow. “Isn’t their role to be as menacing and scary as possible? It doesn’t look like they are.” as she looked over to one of the praetorians to the side. She could swear she saw one of his eyes twitching in annoyance through the matte eye sockets in his helmet.

“Their role is to protect the Empress, Anastajia.” she sighed, shooting an apologetic glance in the direction of the praetorian; from what Anastajia had seen so far, Idrithrel has a great deal of respect for them, more than she’s shown to most Mirati nobility. “If you were a threat, you would either be dead by now, or if lucky, in chains.”

“I have no intention of finding out, master. I was merely playing around.” Anastajia smiled, turning to face towards the entrance of the throne room. She could feel something huge behind the door; not in the literal sense, but in the sense that whatever resided beyond that door was a being of immense power.

As she did so, Idrithrel made a hand signal to the praetorians and activated the mechanism controlling the doors. It thudded, and the mechanical devices controlling it whined as the light from the hall began to seep inside the throne room. Anastajia took note of a series of baubles and artefacts brimming with psionic energy to the sides; curiosities, most of them, and she would love to have a look at then, but this was not a time to be messing around.

She had not yet figured out a way to call the entity residing in the back of her mind, so for now, she’s simply calling her ‘the entity’. As she walked side by side with Idrithrel to the edge of the throne, the words resonated in her mind aggressively, and she was shaken by unease. Every single step brought her closer to a golden light she did not understand; a psionic pressure that made her entire body scream. Idrithrel, on the other side, appeared to be suffering from this pressure. No, it would be more correct to say that it was Anastajia who was somehow not suffering.

Her master dropped to her knees at the end of the stairs in reverence, and the apprentice followed suit. Anastajia kept her head down, fighting the urge to steal a glance from the Empress before their presence was acknowledged, but her time in the Order of Ecclesia taught her that there is a time and place for everything, and now was not the time nor place.

‘Welcome.’ the voice called out to them telepathically. It was warm and sweet, contrasting to the pressure emanated by the owner of the voice. ‘I am happy to see you again, Idrithrel.’

Idrithrel sank her head further, bowing to the Empress. ‘Always, my Empress.’

‘And you must be Anastajia.’ she said, turning her attention to the human girl. ‘I believe that it is the first time we meet in person.’

‘In person?’ Anastajia thought to herself, before replying. ‘This lowly servant—uhm—I greet the Empress of the Imperium.’

Idrithrel shook her head in disappointment, embarrassed by her apprentice’s blunder. Kryszorwyn, however, did not seem to mind. She even laughed; or, at least, it felt like it.

‘There is no need for that.’ she replied. ‘We are both apprentices to the same master. You could even say that we are, in a sense, sisters.’

Anastajia frowned nervously, her head still facing down.

‘Where are my manners?’ Kryszorwyn sighed. ‘Rise. Both of you.’

As she did so, Anastajia was shaken by what she saw. A young Mirati woman, looking no older than her. Her skin was like porcelain, and she was the spitting image of a doll, expressionless and eternal. What Anastajia did see however, and Idrithrel could not, was the series of cracks running over the Empress’s body, like a container about to burst.

She could not contain her reaction, grimacing at the sight. Idrithrel saw her reaction, but could not understand it. What did Anastajia see, and she does not? Does the Empress look different to her? She pondered the question, but ultimately said nothing.

‘I see…’ sighed the Empress, before slowly raising her right hand, pointing her fingers in Anastajia’s direction. A golden light shot out towards her, but dispersed into nothingness, causing Idrithrel and Anastajia to shudder and step back instinctively.

Anastajia glanced at her master in desperation, thinking that the Empress had just attacked her. Idrithrel was just as desperate, looking between her two apprentices, waiting for clarification from Kryszorwyn.

‘Do not trust her.’ echoed in her mind as she contemplated making a run for it. What would making a run for it even achieve? If the Empress wanted to, she would probably make sure to catch her in a heartbeat.

Kryszorwyn’s lips curved up into a smile, stirring the uneasiness in Anastajia’s heart. ‘I see. You’ve trained her well, master.’

Idrithrel nodded, urging Anastajia to remain calm with her gaze.

Kryszorwyn continued: ‘Please do forgive me, Anastajia. I was merely testing you. I had heard from our master that you struggled to keep your powers under control before. I simply sought to see if you can continue maintaining your calm in the presence of my powers.’ and slowly rose from the throne, much to Idrithrel’s shock. She had not seen the Empress rise from her throne since her merging with the End’s power.

Kryszorwyn descended the stairs, her black dress trailing behind her, stretching towards the throne like an appendage until she encompassed the entire platform. Anastajia could only understand that there was something stopping the empress from walking too far away from the throne.

‘Your mental fortitude is a sight as well.’ she continued. ‘I could not read a single thought of yours ever since you entered this room.’

Anastajia dipped her head. ‘Thank you for your kind words.’ and shot a glance in Idrithrel’s direction. She looked like she was struggling, tormented by the psionic energies surrounding them.

‘Master, thank you for bringing her to me. You can leave us now.’ said Kryszorwyn as she engulfed the Grand Executor in a radiant golden light, soothing her pains and causing Idrithrel to exhale in relief. ‘We will not take long.’

At those words, Idrithrel frowned, looking towards Anastajia, but ultimately complied. ‘As you wish.’ and stepped outside the throne room.

Kryszorwyn looked at Anastajia and cupped her hands together at her waist. What was the strongest psionic in the galaxy really looked like a young noblewoman.

‘What do you want from me, your highness?’ asked Anastajia to break the tension. ‘Rather, why now?’

‘It has to do with your powers. I am sure that you have guessed by now that you have a great gift.’

‘A gift?’ Anastajia scowled. ‘To me, it feels more like a curse.’

Kryszorwyn stared at her, remaining expressionless. ‘I suppose. You have gone through many ordeals.’ How patronizing. ‘Either way, there are some things that I cannot achieve on my own.’

‘Respectfully, I can’t see how that is possible.’ she chuckled under her breath, more from stress than anything. ‘I have no doubt there is no one in this galaxy who could hold a candle to you.’

Kryszorwyn nodded, approaching her until they were standing face to face. Anastajia could feel and see an odd contour of psionic energy surrounding her; was this some sort of armor? No, Idrithrel had shown her how to use psionic energy as armor, and this was nothing like it.

‘I am sure you’ve noticed it by now. I am confined to the throne.’ she explained. ‘I cannot stray too far away from the throne, and there are things that need to be done that I cannot count on Idrithrel on for.’

‘And they won’t be too much for me?’ asked Anastajia incredulously. What can she do that Idrithrel can’t?
‘I don’t know how much my master shares with you, your highness, but defeating her is out of the realm of possibility for me.’

‘For now.’ she answered, raising her left arm and pointing her index finger at Anastajia’s forehead. A searing pain rang through her mind. She was trying to peer inside her thoughts. ‘But maybe not in the future.’

Anastajia recoiled from the pain, taking a few steps; at least, that’s what it felt like she’d done. Somehow, she was still rooted to the same place she was standing in before.

‘Please stop.’ she cried out. ‘It hurts.’

Kryszorwyn lowered her hand, pondering.

‘Strange.’ she said. ‘Somehow, you are rejecting my gift. This complicates things.’

‘Gift? Are gifts meant to be painful?’ she growled, ignoring her situation. ‘I would rather refuse such a gift.’

She would not answer.

After a brief moment, the Empress vanished from her sight, reappearing at the top of her throne. She was repelled by the barriers set up by the entity lurking inside her mind.

‘Twenty days from now, the Nevrine Starfleet will set out to fight against the Katgan Swarm.’ she explained. ‘There is something on Na-Swe-Swuk which I need. Something you will need to contend with the avatar of the Eater of Worlds for.’

Anastajia chuckled nervously. ‘My empress, I understand that I am a warrior of the Imperium, but aren’t you essentially sending me on a suicide mission?’

Kryszorwyn brushed off the question. ’I will teach you how to better apply your psionic powers. Now pay attention.’

A torrent of psionic energy raced past Anastajia, shutting the doors to the throne room closed.

 

[crisrko]

Exactly twenty days had passed since Anastajia met the Empress for the first time. All this time, she was in the Seat of Power with Kryszorwyn, tempering her psionic powers. On the day of the Nevrine Starfleet’s departure, Idrithrel came to collect her from the throne room.

When the doors swung open, Anastajia came out silently. Much to Idrithrel’s relief, she seemed to be in good health.

“How are you?” Idrithrel asked, slowly approaching her apprentice. She could barely feel any psionic energy leaking from her; whatever the Empress did to train her those past few days seemed to be wildly effective.

Anastajia stopped silently in her tracks, looking at her master approaching her. Her eyes no longer shone a brilliant violet, having instead returned to their natural sapphire blue. Idrithrel furrowed her eyebrows, noticing this.

“So, this is what your eyes look like normally.” she said, extending her right hand towards Anastajia’s face, looking to touch her chin. “You can trigger your powers at will now, then?”

Anastajia paused for a moment, staring directly into Idrithrel’s eyes. Idrithrel tilted her head to the side, somewhat confused by the reaction.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she said, finally, before slapping away Idrithrel’s hand. Idrithrel frowned, unsure of what she meant. “You knew Plume was on Na-Swe-Swuk.”

Idrithrel sighed, her facial expression hardening. “Who told you this?” as her gaze darted towards the doors of the royal chamber.

“Don’t you dare change the subject.”

Idrithrel nodded once again. “Fine. I did.”

Anastajia paused once again before taking a step back. Clenching her fists, psionic energy scattered from her hands. Some of the praetorians nearby watched the exchange, tightening their grips on their weapons.

“Why did you hide it from me?” she asked, the hurt mixed in with accusation.

Idrithrel shook her head slightly, bringing her hands together behind her back before answering with a hardened look. “Because you would’ve tried to go after him. Because if you did go to Na-Swe-Swuk alone, you would have died.”

“I felt something was wrong that day before we went to the Empress. You were acting weird, so unlike you.” Anastajia explained, scoffing; she unclenched her fists, and the psionic energy dissipated, allowing the praetorians to collectively sigh in relief. “Well, I didn’t think you would actually TALK to me about it, we don’t really have that kind of relationship anyway, right? Do we, master?” she shrugged her shoulders, wafting her hands to the side; her words visibly stung Idrithrel, whose hands trembled.

“Anastajia, you are not ready—” Idrithrel tried to explain, but Anastajia cut her off immediately.

“Ready?” she growled. “A year ago, I could barely control my powers. A few months ago, you dropped me into the middle of a fractured world.”

Anastajia wafted her hands towards the throne room while glaring back at Idrithrel. She knew that her shock troop assignment with the First Battalion was due to the machinations of Duke Valesky. She grit her teeth and recomposed herself.

“Her Highness doesn’t seem to share your opinion, master. I will be going to Na-Swe-Swuk, after all, whether you believe I am ready or not.” she snarled.

Idrithrel remained silent, and Anastajia shook her head, sidestepping her and walking past.

“Forget it.” she growled hatefully. “By order of the Empress, Her Majesty Kryszorwyn Larian, I am joining the Nevrine Starfleet’s expedition to the Behrfrangi worlds.”

---

By the end of the day, the flagship Eversong reached the rest of the fleet at the edge of the Miresh Marr system, at the tip of the gateway.

Standing inside the hangar, Anastajia was equipped in her battle attire; a power suit not dissimilar to the one she had worn in the battle of Thile. Complex interwoven matrices and plates of hard-light alloys reinforced with dark energy shield generators and additional plating over vital areas. Unlike the previous armor, this one was much sleeker, allowing her to move more freely. It was similar to the armor that the Grand Executor was wearing, and this had caught the eyes of a few other Miratis loitering through the hangar.

She was somewhat known by now. It was a well-established fact that the Grand Executor had a new apprentice, and with her being a Human rather than a Mirati, the news had spread like wildfire. Once she received the commendation for her actions on Thile, her status was cemented among fellows disciples in the Order. Sure, there were still some stuck-up adepts that refused to acknowledge this reality, but for the most part, they accepted her position as the Grand Executor’s apprentice.

Even so, some of them could not help but steal a few jealous glances here and there as they watched the masterwork equipment that Anastajia had at her disposal. If only they knew that this armor was a gift from the Empress herself, rather than the Grand Executor. It would probably send some of them in an incandescent rage.

While the Eversong entered the formation, Anastajia looked out in the void through the hangar’s energy shields from the top of a pile of durasteel boxes. She was polishing the black blade Idrithrel had given her, the color in stark contrast with the purple armor she was wearing.

‘Are you anxious, princess?’ the voice called out from deep inside her mind.

Anastajia closed her eyes as the scenery around her shifted, warping into a luxurious palace deep inside her mind. As she manifested in this dimension, the entity arched an eyebrow and gave her an impressed whistle.

“I see that you’ve learned a new trick.” it noted, somewhat mockingly. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Anastajia looked around, inspecting her surroundings. “I see you’ve done some renovations. Are you planning on staying here long term?”

The Entity was sitting upon a violet throne of psionic energy, cross legged and slouched forward; its chin was resting on the top of the palm as it looked curiously at this unexpected visitor.

“My, we’ve gotten braver ever since playing around with the Empress for a while.” it chuckled. “But, yes. As you are aware, I am confined to your mind for now.”

Anastajia raised her right hand, looking to gather psionic energy around her, but it would simply not manifest. It would seem that not much has changed regarding the entity’s control over this dimension.

The Entity wafted its hand dismissively at her. “If this is all you’re here for, you can go.”

“Wait.” she intervened, slowly approaching the throne. “There is something I wish to ask you.”

“Oh?” it leaned back into its seat. “Are you sure you want to be requesting things from something like me?” it pointed back at herself playfully as she watched Anastajia’s reaction from above. Anastajia was undeterred. The Entity snarled. “Boor. Go on, ask then.”

“Tell me of the Eater of World’s Avatar.”

The Entity pondered for a moment: “What makes you think I know about him?”

Anastajia continued to approach the throne, eventually stopping before the throne. Looking up, she explained. “I’ve been thinking about who, or what you are. You are a Shroud entity, that much I can tell.” she motioned to the space surrounding them. “You are strong enough to seize control of a part of my mind, despite me not entering in a pact with you.”

The Entity nodded, looking at her in amusement. “Go on.”

“I have met the Empress. You know that, since you are always with me. I’ve seen a glimpse of her powers, and it is far from anything a mortal being could contain. She too has her own Shroud entity within. A pact, though I do not know with what.”

The Entity sat up from its throne, dispersing the psionic energies that formed its seat, and descended to Anastajia’s level. It looked at the human girl up and down as it circled around her, listening to the explanation. Anastajia frowned slightly, but continued, nonetheless.

“She knows of you. Or, at least, suspects you exist. I could tell it the moment she tried to force her way into my mind.”

“Did you doubt my barrier would hold?” it smirked before stopping behind Anastajia.

The Entity leaned forward, wrapping its arms around Anastajia’s shoulders and neck, as if hugging her from behind, and whispered. “Very well, Anastajia. Tell me, though, why should I answer your questions about the Avatar?”

Anastajia stood still, glancing over her shoulder at the entity who was now resting its chin on her left shoulder. She did not feel any hostile intent from the entity, but her body felt constricted, restrained even.

“Because if I go in without any information, I will die.” she declared somberly.

The Entity smiled. “And why would that bother me? Wouldn’t it be in my interest? As you said, I have somehow ended up bound to you.”

“Because something tells me you’d be gone with me.” Anastajia looked behind as she watched displeasure rearing on its face. She was spot on. “You could have achieved that when I went berserk fighting Idrithrel.”

The Entity released the girl from the hug, disappearing and reappearing on top of a platform above, materializing the same violet throne of psionic energy seen before.

“You could’ve imbued me with all the psionic energy in the world.” Anastajia explained. “I probably would’ve cracked, just like the Empress is cracking now.” she wafted her hands around as she continued. “But you didn’t. That means you either couldn’t do it, which I doubt, or you need your host to be alive.”

The Entity sat down and crossed its legs, leaning and resting its head against its right hand as she listened to Anastajia finish her explanation. It paused for a moment, contemplating something, before creating a small wisp of psionic energy between them. As the purple light flickered, it stretched in all directions, taking the shape of a canvas. Anastajia’s face hardened as characters and words unknown to her were carved into the canvas before it collapsed into itself and returned to the entity’s hand.

“I can appreciate a smart girl.” it said before shooting the wisp of energy directly at Anastajia, piercing her skull. The human girl reeled backwards, clutching her head in agonizing pain as she cried through gritted teeth. Images, events from the past entered her mind at incredible speed.

‘A Taufean champion.’ ‘Destruction of Akkanar.’ ‘A pursuit through the realm of the Shroud.’ ‘A censured warrior.’

Finally, as the reel ended, the image of his fall and reconstruction as the Avatar of the Eater of Worlds.

“You cannot defeat him, even with all the tricks the Empress has taught you.” The Entity declared as it watched Anastajia squirm on the floor. “If you fight him, you will undoubtedly die.”

As the human girl regained her breath, she looked up at the entity snapping its fingers, turning the dimension on itself and bringing her back into reality. She was back in the Eversong, and the intercom’s automated messaging system was blaring.

“Exiting gateway travel. We have reached the Ensmars system. We are now preparing jump drives. Estimated time to jump, five minutes.”

As the systems issued the message on repeat, she waited for the final jump, shaken by everything the entity had shown her.

 

[crisrko]

Infiltration in the former Behrfrangi territories was swift and surgical, the Nevrine Starfleet carving its way through hundreds of Katgan bioships before entering the capital system of the former Foundation. Across all other sectors, the Imperium Starfleets reported similar success, routing the Swarm in the battles of Cemesta, Ingkimsulim and Nithascal. In only a week, the Mirati Imperium had recovered the star systems of the Holy Behrfrangi Foundation.

On the Eversong, Grand Executor Idrithrel Grezeiros stood face to face with Anastajia inside the captain’s private quarters. Anastajia was wearing the armor the Empres had bestowed her; it was the first time Idrithrel had seen her wearing this. Beautiful, masterwork artificer craftmanship, in no shape or form inferior to the armor she was wearing; a gift of the highest order and a symbol of the Empress’s will to succeed in this mission.

As she looked at the human girl, she was met by a cold gaze; Anastajia had not yet forgiven her.

“We are commencing the planetary assaults tomorrow.” said Idrithrel as she sat down on the edge of her desk. “You will be assigned to a separate special ops squad, dropping directly into Gosha.”

Anastajia nodded, her left hand wrapped around the sheath attached to her waist.

“You will infiltrate the city and investigate whether there are any more Behrfrangi left there. Our sensors are detecting non-Katgan lifeforms on the planet, but with all the spores in the atmosphere, even our technology is struggling to accurately locate them.” said Idrithrel, holding out a datapad towards Anastajia.

She grabbed it, scrolling quickly through the contents. Comprehensive information regarding the city schematics and security systems, known routes previously used by the planetary resistance, rough coordinates and locations of the several battles that occurred between the swarm and the local defense forces, including known appearances of the so-called “Katgan Lord” variants.

“Do I know the rest of the squad?” asked Anastajia, storing the datapad away in one of her pouches.

“The rest of your squad is just one person.” she replied, crossing her arms. “You already know her. Nephinae Felltrail. You fought together on Thile.”

Anastajia smiled with her words. “Nephinae is here?”

Idrithrel bopped her head lightly before explaining. “She’s completed her mission with the Dannian Confederacy, and so was rotated back to Miresh. We will need her skills. Now listen to me.” Idrithrel pointed at her, causing Anastajia’s gaze to turn sharp. “Your so-called squad is operating at minimal efficiency. You will be reporting directly to me, outside of the rest of the command chain. I’ve made sure the other commanders are aware.”

“Is this all?” she asked, looking towards the exit.

For a moment, Idrithrel was perplexed. She wanted to say something, but be it because of her own pride or guilt, her lips would not move. Instead, she just nodded silently, causing Anastajia to scowl and spin on her feet, exiting the room.

---

Anastajia slowly made her way into the hangar, looking for the transport vessel assigned to her, but more importantly, looking out for her old friend, Nephinae. Noise from the engines was ever present as the engineers and logistic officers were preparing the transporters and dropships for the planetary assault. By the end of the tomorrow, over a hundred thousand Imperium soldiers and varying warforms and armor will drop on the surface.

It did not take her too long to find the one she was looking for. Nephinae was leaning against a transport vessel, equipped in the typical Ecclesian hard-light alloy power suit; a sheathed blade attached at her lower back and a dark energy rifle resting on the ground next to her. Having been noticed, Nephinae waved her over warmly before embracing the girl in a tight hug.

“Have you gotten taller since I’ve last seen you?” she asked playfully. “It would seem that life has been treating you well, or is it just Elephon force-feeding you?”

Anastajia punched her in the shoulder with a smirk as they let go, her eyes darting to a scar on Nephinae’s cheek. It was fresh and raw, and now that she noticed it, she could not avert her eyes.

“Oh, this?” she muttered, touching the scar lightly with her armored glove. “Long story. I got this on a planet called Stavanger. Come on, don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sorry. It’s been a rough few months, Nephinae.” said Anastajia as a frown formed on her face. “I’m honestly just glad to see you.”

Nephinae nodded, grabbing her right shoulder and rubbing it.

“Have you gotten all of your gear?” she asked, flicking her chin at the sword dangling at her hip. “Is this all you’re taking with you?”

“I’ll drop by the armory before departure. I just wanted to get out of that room.”

Nephinae cocked her head to the side before looking over Anastajia’s shoulder at a watchful Idrithrel.

“That bad?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Anastajia cut her off quickly.

Nephinae just nodded before looking inside the transport ship and hopping in.

“Hop in and give me a run down on everything that’s happened.” she said as she pulled Anastajia up by her hand. “I got the general gist of the mission from the Grand Executor, but she said I am to work out the details with you.”

Anastajia would spend the rest of the day catching up with Nephinae about everything that happened since Thile. Her fears. Her frustrations. Her rage at the situation unfolding between her three so-called masters.

Deep inside her mind, however, the entity began to stir.

 

[crisrko]

Hours later, the planetary assault had commenced. Anastajia and Nephinae were dropped deep behind enemy lines, in the former capital city of Gosha. Katgan activity in the area was reduced due to the on-going battles around the spaceport and other key planetary locations, and they would do well to capitalize on this to finish their mission with minimal resistance.

The two stood in the shadows cast by giants. Immense skyscrapers hollowed out and rotted like carcasses. Currently situated on one of the higher floors of a destroyed building, their movement was restricted by a dust storm coalescing around the city. Even from here, they could hear the screams of the Alpha Warforms in the distance, cutting and shooting through the endless swarms of monsters. Occasionally, the light from energy bombardment shone through the dust clouds, sending shockwaves through whatever remained of the building’s structure.

“We cannot linger for too long over here. Do you sense anyone?” asked Nephinae as she cleared the building room by room.

Anastajia followed behind, focusing on scanning for any psionic signatures; a waste of time, it would seem.

“I can’t sense anyone.” she answered, removing the datapad Idrithrel had given her back onboard. “According to our intelligence, we are more or less in the area where they detected the survivors.”

“Could’ve been static.” said Nephinae. “Or the Katgan already got to them.”

Anastajia shook her head. “We need to keep looking. Let’s move towards the industrial sector.”

Nephinae stopped in her tracks, turning around to look at Anastajia.

“That’s a few miles away. We’ve got a long way to cover.” she noted. “Look, Anastajia, I know this is important to you, but--”

“No.” she cut her off. “We’ll find them.” before jumping through one of the destroyed windows, racing towards the industrial district.

“We should’ve asked for a means of transport.”

---

Anastajia and Nephinae watched a Katgan patrol fly past them from the ruins of a former industrial depot. After an hour of running, they had reached the industrial sector of the city of Gosha. Even now, the battle was raging in the distance. Judging by the noise, the Imperium forces were making ground, but the resistance was fierce.

Since their enemy was a gestalt consciousness geared towards attrition warfare and harvesting biomatter, the Grand Executor instructed all armies to methodically clear sectors, making heavy use of their automatons and robotic units; if the Katgans can reclaim their lost biomatter, then they may as well not provide them any further material for soldiers.

“I wonder how the assault on the Spires is going…” pondered Nephinae out loud after confirming the patrol was out of sight. She turned towards Anastajia, who was sat down on the ground, searching for any psionic energies and signatures nearby. “Anything?”

Anastajia stood back up, shaking her head negatively. “Not here either. Where could they possibly be?”

A clang in the background, somewhere inside the same building as them. Anastajia raised her dark energy rifle in the direction of the sound, as did Nephinae. As the two shared a glance, Nephinae motioned Anastajia to approach.

Something clanged again further to the right, and a durasteel container came crashing down towards them. Neither were close enough to the drop zone, so they calmly stepped to the side. As they approached the source of the noise slowly, something shot out of the rubble towards Nephinae.

A Katgan swarmling! It tried to latch onto her, but she blocked the monstrosity with her rifle before smashing it into the ground, squashing it beneath her boot, leaving a trail of green goo and ichor.

“That’s disgusting.” Anastajia commented, looking away from the squashed bug. “Do you think there’s more of them?”

“From what I hear of them, where’s one there’s probably a hundred.” answered Nephinae. “We should go, we can’t linger here.” before turning towards one of the exits.

“Wait.” she called out as she approached the swarmling. Anastajia lifted it up by its tails, looking at whatever remained of it.

Nephinae grimaced for a moment, before smirking. “If you’re hungry, I have some ration--”

Anastajia gagged.

“Piss off.” she said, before dropping the bug to the ground; it crashed against the tough surface with a wet sound. “I think that’s a swarmling.”

“Good job, Xenobiologist. What of it?” Nephinae poked some fun as she continued to look around for any further Katgan drones. “Is it relevant?”

“Only reason a swarmling would be nearby is if they were hatching around here.” she explained before jumping towards the rubble it came from. “There must be a breeding ground here as well.”

Nephinae followed behind her quickly, cocking her head. “I’m not following.”

Anastajia focused her mind once again, scanning their surroundings.

“I sense activity in that direction.” she pointed north-east. “Something is there. A lot of them.” before turning towards Nephinae. “Look. Katgans reproduce by harvesting biomatters, right?”

“Right.” she nodded as the wheels slowly turned in her head. “Oh—”

“If there is a breeding ground nearby, that means they have access to a source of biomatter. Either the Swarm had brought it in from the Spires for reinforcements, or…”

“Or they have prisoners.” Nephinae spoke out as if she had an epiphany. Her face quickly turned sour. “We need to hurry.”

---

“I can’t believe what they’ve done to this city.” lamented Anastajia as she looked over the wasteland that is Gosha. Its air smelled of sulphur; a smell so pungent that it would have burned her nostrils had the suit’s integrated purification system not been active since they landed on the planet.

Gigantic lumpen barnacles pumped out clouds of toxic matter to further the terraforming process into a hive world, alongside pulsating, brain-like nodes that resembled fungi. What used to be an ocean now appeared to be some toxic, bubbling biomatter with the viscosity and color of molasses.

She could see a fortified structure in the distance, like a fortress of glistening chitin. Through its open roof, she could roughly make sense of what was hidden inside. Dozens of pools containing an alien liquid that seemed to be birthing the drones themselves.

“This is Adept Felltrail for the Grand Executor.” the embedded communication device crackled. “Do you hear us?”

“Grand Executor Grezeiros. Go for.” the voice replied swiftly. “Make it quick.”

“I’m uploading a set of coordinates to you now. We’ve identified a Katgan birthing pool. We have reason to believe that there are survivors at that location. Can you scan it?”

“I’m forwarding your request… Hold on.”

A momentary pause as they waited for confirmation. Explosions continued to go off in the distance as the primary Imperium assault force entered the city of Gosha proper. A fierce gale blew past them as the structure they were standing on shook violently.

“I confirm that there are non-Katgan lifeforms at that location.”

Anastajia then took over the voice channel. “Can you tell what type?”

“No. Atmospheric spore density is still scrambling all of our sensors, I can’t give you anything more detailed than that.” the Grand Executor replied.

Anastajia clicked her tongue. “Requesting permission to infiltrate and destroy the camp.”

Nephinae shook her head, muttering something to her, but she was dismissed. On the other side of the voice channel, Idrithrel paused for a moment.

“Are you sure?” asked Idrithrel, audibly concerned. “I will be diverting air support to your location and another unit to pick up any survivors, but it will take them a while to get through.”

“Yes.” she answered confidently, tethering closer to the ledge. “We’re attacking the birthing pool.” and dropped down, racing towards their next location.

---

“Damn it, Anastajia!” Nephinae called out as she continued to chase after her at immense speed. Both of them were psychically enhancing their bodies at this moment to wade through the devastation and reach the birthing pools as quickly as possible. “What is your plan?”

“We don’t have the time to spare.” she replied curtly, though Nephinae could detect the fear in her voice. “Every second counts!” she yelled out as she kicked on, raising the pace.

Nephinae swore as the duo vaulted over the chitinous wall, staring at the pools and drones below them as they flew over. Something inside this little fortress was emanating a strong psionic presence, but it was not yet visible to them. After their momentum wore off and they began their descent, both aimed their dark energy rifles, unloading at the drones and swarmlings below, bathing them in blue fire.

As the two landed between the walls, multi-limbed nightmares poured forward from every hole and crevice in the grounds. Not just normal drones, but brawlers and hoppers aswell came bearing down on their position, slowly encircling them. Cold sweat poured down Nephinae’s brow as she watched their position become untenable, cursing herself for letting Anastajia to jump in head first like an idiot. She may be stronger than her, but in comparison, she is an inexperienced whelp.

A gust of wind billowed through them as a squadron of Imperium fighters shot past them, unleashing a myriad of missiles specifically tailored to combating the Katgan infection. As they burst open, thin, yellowy spores fell down from above, melting the monsters into raw biomatter with a sickly death cry.

Anastajia rushed through the gap, sparing a glance towards one of the birthing pools to her side. Whatever was inside of those missiles had just turned the contents of the pool into a congealed mess; nothing was coming out of there ever again. As she came closer to the drones, she unsheathed her blackened blade, leaving a trail of chopped aliens behind her as the sword pulsed with a purple hue. Nothing could stop her from reaching her destination at this point.

“I can see a path leading underground.” Anastajia called out to Nephinae as she plunged her sword into a brawler’s head, twisting and hacking through the chitinous shell. “That’s where I can feel the psionic energy coming from.”

“Can you sense how many there are in there?” she asked, watching the fighter squadron return for a second run. Their missiles hit their marks once again, making sure that no more Katgans would be spawned at this location. “I tried, but this thing seems to be bouncing off my psionic energy.”

“I can’t tell.” she said, turning the corner before stopping in front of a massive door. It was eerily similar to the structure she had seen on Thile. “But this door… Hey, Nephinae, come check this out.”

Nephinae caught up quickly, inspecting the entrance. As the two shared a glance, Anastajia received her confirmation. This structure was similar to what she had seen on Thile. It’s an ancient vault of some kind.

‘Interesting.’ the voice called out from deep inside her mind. Anastajia clutched at her head as she could swear she was watching the Entity walk in front of her. ‘I didn’t think you’d find something like this here.’ Nephinae shuddered, inexplicably before looking around with alarm. She could not see the Entity, but she knew that something dangerous was here.

‘What is this?’ Anastajia asked back, watching the Entity drag its hand over the massive entrance. Oddly, it had changed its appearance; the beautiful robes it was wearing before were gone, replaced by something weathered and ancient. Whatever it was, Anastajia had not seen anything like it.

‘A Zroni vault of knowledge.’ it answered, turning to face Anastajia. ‘There is a psionic archive inside it. I believe this is what your puppetmaster wanted you to find.’

'A Zroni vault of knowledge blocks off psionics? Wasn't psionic energy their whole shtick?' she asked.

'Block off psionics?' the Entity glanced back at her with confusion. 'No. You simply don't know how to open it.'

Anastajia frowned: ‘We’re here for the survivors’ before approaching the entrance itself. 'Now tell me how to open this.'

‘You’d need a key.’ it answered once again. ‘But I can open it for you.’

‘I know better than to bargain with you.’ Anastajia spat out, enveloping her hand in a thick psionic energy as she attempted to crush the door open. Her hand bounced off the surface as quickly as the powers touched the surface. Enhancement does not seem to work either.

While this exchange was playing out, Nephinae could only see Anastajia pace around the entrance in a deep trance. Whatever was going on, she did not plan on interrupting it, especially since she’d warned her something like this might happen.

‘A simple bargain.’ The Entity explained. ‘I will open the door for you. In exchange, you will find the archive, as the master of the Mirati wishes you to.’

‘Plume and the survivors remain my priority.’ she reiterated, though the Entity did not seem too interested.

‘So long as you get the archive.’ and wafted its hand dismissively before approaching Anastajia. Slowly, it wrapped its hands around her shoulders, resting its hands on top of hers. She could feel an immense power well up from within, sending shivers down her spine. She felt like she was melting. Nephinae could sense it too, but fought the urge to snap Anastajia out of her trance.

“I accept.”

For a fragment of a moment, Nephinae could sense as if something inside of Anastajia had shifted. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was like some sort of fundamental change had happened in her. Anastajia, however, could fully feel what happened. It all happened in a heartbeat.

‘You think that your cycle's understanding of psionics can touch on the pinnacle of power?' the Entity snarled as it guided the psionic energies swirling through Anastajia. She felt as if she was about to burst.

‘I will allow you a peek, princess. Now see just one of the things you could truly do with my help.’

Something stirred, and an invisible force wrapped around Anastajia and Nephinae causing their stomachs to lurch; imminent danger. It lingered for only a moment, causing Nephinae to stumble back with heavy breaths.

The doors to the entrance disintegrated, turning into fine purple dust as Nephinae stood with her mouth agape.

 

[crisrko]

Anastajia could feel the stench of death oozing from deep inside the opening. As she stumbled past the clearance, the pain was close to overwhelming her. Her head was ringing like anything she’d felt before and her stomach was on the edge of throwing up.

“What… was that?” asked Nephinae from behind with concern, as she came to. “What was that power, Anastajia?”

Anastajia stabbed her blade into the ground, propping herself up. “A trick… I’ve learned it on--”

“Bullshit!” Nephinae shouted as she stormed forward, violently grabbing Anastajia by the shoulder and pushing her backwards. “Don’t lie to me. I watched you. Whatever you did, I felt like I was about to be swallowed up.”

“Nephinae, I--” Anastajia tried to speak, but Nephinae pushed her back once again, almost falling flatly on her back.

Nephinae was furious.

“Don’t lie to me, Anastajia. I kept my mouth shut this whole time because I knew how important your former master is to you…” she grabbed her right arm before pointing at the door. “Whatever it was made of it was made to keep psionics out. You turned it into dust through some unnatural means.”

Anastajia bit her lower lip hard. “It is my power.”

“Bullshit! It reeked of malevolence.” she yelled out again, grabbing her collar with both hands and staring into her visors. “Are you pacted to a Shroud entity?”

Anastajia frowned, staring hard at Nephinae. The silence was the answer, and she cursed loudly, letting go of her.

“I know what a pact feels like, Anastajia. I’ve seen too many adepts making pacts with Shroud entities throughout my time. Always when they’re desperate.” she spat out, her fists balled so hard the handguards crunched under the weight. “You damn fool.”

“I can’t fail him, Nephinae.”

“What about you?!” she yelled. “What did you give up in return, huh?!”

“A promise.” she answered. “A promise to find something. Something I was meant to find anyway.”

“Find what?”

“A psionic archive lays hidden somewhere inside this structure.” she motioned towards the corridor in front of them. “I don’t know where, though.”

Nephinae paused for a moment, looking at the corridor, before turning to face Anastajia once again. She took in a deep breath to calm herself before asking.

“What’s in it?”

“I don’t know.” she answered.

Nephinae pointed at her, and Anastajia frowned.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Anastajia. As soon as we’re out of here, I’m telling the Grand Executor.”

Nephinae then turned around, taking the lead in the exploration of the hidden structure.

---

Over the next hour, the two made their way through the abandoned facility. It was reminiscent of the Helyx Research Facility; a labyrinthine network of sleek corridors and expansive chambers. Walls made of a material similar to the hard-light alloys created by the Imperium, though notably stronger.

Someone else had been here before. Those chambers were all ransacked, the furniture was destroyed and whoever had been here was searching for something. Judging by the mess they left behind, they did not find it yet.

Though their investigation led them here, they could still not find any signs of the survivors. By now, both Anastajia and Nephinae were starting to doubt that the survivors were here in the first place. Were her powers misleading her? What psionic signature did she pick up on, if it was not Plume and the rest of the survivors?

As they approached a staircase leading further down below, the stench of death became even worse. A metallic smell, it was blood. Fresh, too. Whoever died below, did so recently.

‘Wait.’ The Entity called out to her from deep within her mind. ‘You have company below.’

Anastajia stopped in her tracks, motioning Nephinae to do the same. She came closer to the staircase, leaning over the rails to peer down below. She could not see anyone yet, but a sense of dread was slowly overcoming her. Something dangerous is below.

‘I sense the presence of the Eater of Worlds below.’ it said. ‘His cultists are here.’

‘Why are you telling me this now?’ she asked. ‘I thought you have no plans of interfering any further.’

‘I already told you I have an interest in the archive stored in this facility.’ it answered bluntly. ‘And I need you to stay alive, for both our sakes.’ before going silent once more.

“Looks like we’re going to go down there.” said Anastajia as she looked at Nephinae. “You smell it too, don’t you?”

Nephinae nodded, taking point with her dark energy rifle. “Someone died here recently. Keep your eyes peeled.”

Anastajia followed her closely behind, readying her rifle.

---

“Keep looking!” the feral voice of a Taufean yelled out. “We must find the key to the vault below, lest you wish you die here today!” and shot a burst of dark energy into the ceiling, causing the prisoners to wail and shudder in fear.

Anastajia and Nephinae watched the scene below unfolding from a hidden crevice on a level above. Around half a dozen psionic warriors were supervising a group of Behrfrangi survivors searching through rubble and storage.

Upon a closer look, most of the Behrfrangi survivors seemed to be dressed in ragged clothes as well as weathered power suits; they were most likely soldiers or guerilla fighters. One of them, a female Behrfrangi was missing an arm, while the others bore different sorts of scars.

One of the prisoners collapsed to the floor due to exhaustion and was quickly swarmed by two Taufeans, wailing on him with kicks and punches; the crunches and wet sounds turned their stomachs as they watched them beating him to death. Blood spilled on the dirty surface as Anastajia grit her teeth in anger at the scene unfolding below.

Nephinae placed her hand on her shoulder, shaking her head.

“We don’t know how many of them there are.” she whispered. “Jumping straight in is too dangerous.”

“What, are we just to watch them die then?!” she spat out. “When are our reinforcements coming?”

“I don’t know.” Nephinae answered. “But our lives take priority.” and pointed towards the activity below. “Even if we jump in right now, we will not be able to protect them.”

Anastajia frowned, looking between Nephinae and the survivors below. At this rate, they would all die of exhaustion or by the Taufeans hands. If they died, they’d lose any possible information regarding Plume. She cannot let that happen.

‘You can take them, Anastajia. I’m sure you’ve sensed it already. Tap into my powers.’ the Entity called out to her.

“Screw this.” she said to Nephinae as she dropped onto the platform below, stabbing her sword through one of the cultists back, the sheer force of the impacting driving it through the spine and lower back.

She’d done it now. She pulled her sword out of the dying Taufean and swiped the blood away, watching as the cultists and prisoners took notice of her. In the confusion, she released a psionic bolt towards another cultist, striking him dead center and sending him into a pile of rubble.

“This damned kid will be the death of me.” swore Nephinae as she began laying covering fire from above.

Everyone dispersed, the survivors making for cover, and the cultists charging towards Anastajia. Shots from their dark energy rifles whizzed past her, lighting up the dim room. She darted across the room, moving from cover to cover under the guise of darkness.

“Find her!” the same Taufean yelled out. “Find her and kill her! For the Eater of Worlds!”

The cultists screamed, their cries of wrath distorted by their vocal devices, and fired blindly in all directions, forgoing any sense of strategy and rationality. Their shots managed to strike some unlucky prisoners as they fled for cover but were nowhere close to hitting Anastajia. This was her cue.

As painful as it was, aware of the collateral damage her actions are causing, she knew that the longer this takes, the smaller the chance of finding information about Plume’s whereabouts. So, she jumped out of her cover, shooting quick bursts from her energy rifle in the cultists directions and made her way towards a pack of survivors hiding behind a destroyed pillar.

“Can you understand me?!” she yelled out to one of the Behrfrangi; it was a male Behrfrangi wearing a badly damaged Behrfrangi military uniform. “What is your name?”

“Vrako.” he answered while standing above one of the younger prisoners. It was a child, she noticed, causing her to grit her teeth in anger beneath her helmet.

“Vrako, listen to me closely.” she continued. “Imperium reinforcements are on the way as we speak to get you and the others off this planet.”

A plasma grenade went off nearby, sending debris in their direction. Metal whistled as a piece of broken machinery flew over Anastajia’s head.

Vrako nodded, peeking his head over the cover. A dark energy round whizzed over his head and he dropped back down with his eyes wide open, choking on his own spit. Anastajia shook his shoulder hard enough to snap him out of it before pushing the dark energy rifle into his chest.

“Take this weapon and protect them.” she ordered before jumping back out in the open, darting forward towards a lone cultist. Psionic energy coalesced around her, encasing her in thick armor.

Snarling, the cultist also charged forward, driving his halberd in her direction. A clash of metal drowned out the sounds as their blades crossed paths. A flurry of strikes from the cultist had Anastajia back away and slide below the halberd; she was too slow, and the Taufean pulled his weapon back, catching her shoulder with the hook on the back side of the blade.

However, much to the cultist’s dismay, the hook bounced off her armor, causing him to lose his balance. The Empress's gift protected her and granted her an opening; Anastajia would not squander it, driving her blade in the enemy’s stomach, slashing horizontally as if cutting through butter. Whimpering, the Taufean let out a death cry as he collapsed to the floor, disemboweled.

‘Three left’. Nephinae called out to her telepathically. ‘One of them is standing behind the two. They’re forming a shield. He must be their leader.’

A psionic bolt darted towards Anastajia but she cancelled the attack with her own in a plume of fire and smoke. As the smoke slowly dispersed, it had become evident. They’ve run away.

From the back, Vrako and the rest of the survivors came out of their cover, slowly dragging their emaciated bodies to their saviors. Nephinae, too, joined in after dropping down from her cover.

At a quick head count, only half of them had survived the encounter.

“Who are you?” asked Vrako. “You are our allies, yes?”

Anastajia pressed a button below her neck and the helmet opened, releasing a short burst of steam. Her deep blue eyes fixated on Vrako, staring at him hard.

“A human!” Vrako said loudly as he took a slow step back, looking at the rifle in his hand. His entire life, he’d never seen one before. All he knows about humans is the Coalition War.

“I get that often.” she laughed, hanging her head low. Vrako felt shame. She was their savior after all. “But yes, we are here to save you.”

One of the children behind Vrako stepped out of the group, slowly approaching Anastajia. She looked down at him, somewhat puzzled, before the little one wrapped his arms around her leg, hugging her.

“An extraction team is coming for you soon.” Nephinae explained. “Can you tell us what’s going on here?”

Reaching inside her pouch, Nephinae retrieved a small piece of machinery. It was a nutrient nano-replicator. She gave it to Vrako who returned a thankful nod.

“We’re prisoners.” he explained while fiddling with the device. Anastajia was sat down on a nearby rock with the child in her lap, listening in. “We were captured by the Cult of the Eater weeks ago when trying to escape the planet.”

“How did that happen?” Anastajia asked.

“We were ambushed at the spaceport… They came out of nowhere. Over two dozen psionic warriors, like them.” and he waved over towards the bodies of the dead cultists. “They were led by someone. His name was Lorkan.” he scowled. “Most of us didn’t survive the battle. We’re all that remains.”

“What about your commander?” asked Nephinae while taking the device from Vrako. She fiddled around with it for a bit before activating the replication function.

“The Psion? He is dead. They killed him.”

Anastajia stared at him blankly, shuddering. Nephinae saw this, pressing Vrako on.

“We know there were multiple Psions. Psion Millu Ashnar and his warriors from Rhar’I.” said Nephinae.

Vrako nodded.

“But also, Plume of Silver. A Vissari.” said Nephinae again.

Vrako held out several food items to the survivor group before answering further.

“Sir Plume fought the cultists as well but was defeated by another Taufean. I’m sorry, but I don’t know what exactly happened to him. He, too, was captured, but he was never in the same group as us.” he explained. “After the battle, all Behrfrangi survivors were taken to this location to scavenge for some sort of key. Apparently, there is a huge vault below.”

“And Plume?” asked Anastajia after allowing the child off her lap. “Where did they take him?”

“I do not know.” he shook his head. “You will have to ask them.” and pointed at the dead cultists once again.

“Very well.” said Nephinae. “We’ll have to get the rest of them, then. You need to get going.” and pointed towards the staircase leading above. “Way here is clear. I’ve already notified our reinforcements to expect you.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Vrako whimpered. Their ordeal was finally over.

 

[crisrko]

‘Your real opponent lies ahead.’ The Entity called out to her. ‘I can sense a much more concentrated power. It must be the Avatar of the Eater of Worlds.’

Anastajia continued to march forward alongside Nephinae, cutting through the dark corridors and reaching a large observation room. At the center of this room, a control console with many interfaces and buttons, most of them covered by dust, cobweb and all manner of debris.

‘I erred.’ it said once again. ‘You cannot retrieve the archive, princess. You cannot defeat him. Not as you are right now.’

Anastajia slowly approached the edge of the observation room, staring through the tempered glass at a platform below. A group of at least a dozen Taufeans stood in formation behind a single towering monstrosity. It was over ten feet tall, clad in an ancient power suit littered in the signs and marks of the Eater of World’s cult. This must be him, she thought, as the mere sight of him drove shivers down her spine.

‘I must.’ she declared. ‘I must save my former master.’

‘If you fight him, princess, you will die.’

‘Then so be it.’ she answered with resolution.

A shiver ran down Anastajia’s spine. It was as if she could sense the Entity’s lips curl into a twisted smile atop its throne.

---

“What of the Behfrangi prisoners?” asked Yinuke as he towered above the kneeling Jogosai. His paws were trembling in anger at this failure, wrapped so hard around the handle of his weapon that it could draw blood. “Have you lost all of them?”

“Yes, my lord.” answered Jogosai as a cold stream ran down his face. “I have lost three brothers and all of our prisoners. We were ambushed--”

Before Jogosai could finish his sentence, Yinuke drove his hand into his throat, lifting him up in the air. As the gray maned struggled to breathe, Yinuke raised his sword, the blade thirsting for blood.

“Enough.”

Those words. This voice. It was enough for Yinuke to let him go and for Jogosai to fall on his knees, prostrating himself before his master. As the loud thuds of each step got closer and closer, Jogosai looked up to see the sight of the Avatar of the Eater of Worlds, Lorkan the Cursed, in all his unholy glory.

“Those prisoners were getting us nowhere either way. We were never going to find the key.” he snarled. “There is no key.” before sparing another glance at the door standing at the edge of the platform.

“My lord, what do you mean?” asked Yinuke as she shot a deadly glare in the direction of Jogosai, who was now breathing with relief. “There is no key?”

Lorkan turned towards him, nodding slightly. “We could circumvent the first door through the blessing of the Eater. We opened a Shroud portal directly into this facility, but opening the vault is an entirely different matter.”

“But the previous vaults—” Yinuke tried to speak but was quickly rebuffed by his master.

“Were nothing like this.” the Avatar declared. “We need to break this one open, instead.”

---

“I do not see any Vissari down below us, Anastajia.” said Nephinae as she watched over the platform through the scope of her dark energy rifle. “Only Taufeans.”

“They’re the ones who captured him, Nephinae.” she replied. “It is my only chance of finding out where he is.”

Anastajia paced around the room nervously, biting her thumb as she tried to conjure up a semblance of a plan. Charging straight into that room is a death sentence, even for her. Masterwork armor or not, it is not invincible, and if the memory the Entity imprinted upon her is to be believed, the Avatar’s weapon, Hell’s Scream, could probably cut through her like butter. And that is ignoring the rest of his cohort.

“We’re outnumbered, Anastajia. At the very least, six to one.” she scowled, taking a moment to make a quick head count. “All the mobs aside, I am not confident we could take the Avatar in a two-against-one fight, either.”

While the two continued to argue with one another, a large explosion went off below them, shaking the observation room and causing them to fall onto the floor. Whatever that was, it was an insane detonation. Scrambling to their feet, the two approached the windows to see smoke rising from the direction of the platform.

Somehow, the cultists have blown open the gate to the vault and were now making their way inside. Seeing this, Anastajia spared Nephinae a glance before making her way towards the exit.

“We follow them!” she shouted as he ran out of the observation room and onto the platform below.

Traces of psionic energy were ever present. Looking at the hole in the vault door, it seems that it was blown open with a psionic attack, much like what she did at the main entrance. She spared a moment to touch the remains of the gate. It was a seal, resistant to psionic attacks much like the other. Though, Anastajia supposed, that in the face of overwhelming psionic power, such conduits could not withstand the attack.

‘He is one with his patron’s power.’ The Entity explained. ‘Unlike you, he knows how to wield the gift of the Eater of Worlds.’

Anastajia grits her teeth hard. ‘I have trained to channel your abilities.’

‘Yes, you have.’ it answered dismissively. ‘But the one who trained you to do so was the master of the Mirati, not me. Do you really think that you can master my powers without me?’

Anastajia remained silent, making her way through the door.

‘You think that her training is sufficient. So be it. I will bear witness to your struggle, princess.’

The presence vanished once again. It would not speak with Anastajia any further, at least for now.

 

[crisrko]

The Avatar of the Eater of Worlds, Lorkan the Cursed, and his cultist cohort made their way deep inside the heart of the vault. Rows upon rows of shelves and stasis fields containing artefacts long lost to the galaxy, brimming with psionic energy.

“So, this is the vault Sukarno was talking about.” said Lorkan as he looked over the never-ending room. “To think that the Zroni Empire had a vault on Na-Swe-Swuk of all places in the galaxy.”

Lorkan stroked his armored paws down the control console’s metallic skin, feeling the thick hard-light plating, down to the miniscule differences in the layers of neutronium and dark energy. He could feel the psionic energy imbued in the forging process millions of years ago.

“We must find the crystal archive.” he declared, looking over his shoulder at Yinuke and Jogosai. “Our labor is almost over. With this, we will finally be able to fully summon the Eater of Worlds.”

“What are your instructions, my lord?” asked Yinuke.

Lorkan stretched out his shoulders and neck before driving Hell’s Scream in the center console, sparks and metal sputtering in all directions. Alarms blared throughout the facility as the locking mechanisms protecting the artefacts went out with a whimper.

“Yinuke, take the men and find the crystal.” he barked out his order as he pulled the great axe out, dragging pieces of broken machinery with it. “I will go and entertain our guests.”

---

‘He knows you’re here, princess.’ The Entity called out to her. ‘Are you ready?’

Anastajia remained silent, entering the large opening before the heart of the vault. She stopped a few hundred meters from the exit, sparing Nephinae a glance as she unsheathed her black sword.

Lorkan and two of his men entered from the other side, each step echoing with a loud metallic thud. It was the first time the two parties had come face to face with one another.

Anastajia looked at the monstrous Taufean, in awe at his size and psionic presence. He was like a shining beacon in darkness, brimming with unholy energy. Scratches and dents from previous battles all over his armor displayed in a grotesque symphony with the marks and eldritch symbols of the Eater of Worlds.

Psionic energy stirred around them as a thick crimson mist formed around Lorkan and his shoulders; their patron was wide awake. It was looking, watching over this fateful encounter. It was staring at Anastajia from somewhere far away in the cosmos, aware of Anastajia’s heritage. She could swear she could feel it snarling and laughing in anticipation.

Wisps of crimson energy descended upon Lorkan, a symphony of unintelligible sounds and noises that were nothing more than static and screams to both Anastajia and Nephinae. It was the Eater of Worlds sending a divine message to its champion.

“I see.” he growled, tightening his hand around Hell’s Screams handle before motioning his two men to be ready for battle. “When I took the Psion’s head, I thought myself blessed to bestow such a gift to my master, but now you have come to me.”

Nephinae shot a quick glance towards Anastajia as she readied her own sword, stirring with psionic energy. Lorkan snarled at the sight, dismissing Nephinae as a threat.

“I have not fought a Champion since the Coalition War. I will revel this in this slaughter.”

Nephinae frowned, sparing Anastajia a short glance. What did the Avatar mean by this? Was she actually pacted with a Shroud being? A high level one at that?

Lorkan raised Hell’s Scream, pointing it in their direction as the two other cultists charged forward. Psionic energy coalesced around the central point of the axe head in a violent maelstrom before shooting towards Anastajia.

Anastajia dodged the psionic bolt by the skin of her teeth and responded in kind, shooting several guided bolts in the direction of the Avatar. Lorkan snarled below his mask, allowing them to engulf him in fire and smoke.

“Is this all you can do?” the voice mocked her from inside the smoke. “It’s unbecoming of someone like us.”

Lorkan was unscathed, even going as far as dusting off his shoulderplate with his spare hand.

“I am nothing like you.” she replied, scowling.

“Evidently.” he smirked beneath his helmet. “You are suppressing your psionic powers, aren’t you?” he asked as Hell’s Scream glowed with a murderous red hue. “You hold such immense power. I’m surprised you have not cracked, like your false Empress.”

Nephinae shot forward, striking the cultists with a barrage of psionic bolts as she closed the distance between herself and the two. Explosions started to ring out around them as psionic attacks collided. She did not have the time to worry about the Avatar’s words.

A large horizontal beam of energy materialized as Lorkan swiped Hell’s Scream towards Anastajia and Nephinae; the Mirati woman dodged, but Anastajia stood in place, staring hard at the attack before releasing her own. Smoke billowed from the clash of energies, enveloping the entire room in a gray fog.

Lorkan charged forward, unbothered by the human girl matching him strike for strike, swiping his great axe in her previous direction. His blade caught only empty air and metal, but just as he pulled the weapon from the ground, he felt an infernal heat coming for his neck. Lorkan dropped down hard, close enough to kiss the ground as a purple flame shot past. Before he could look up, something kicked him in the ribs, denting the plate and sending him flying towards one of the pillars in the room. It was Anastajia.

“Where did you take him?” Anastajia asked coldly as she watched Lorkan pull himself out of the rubble.

“What are you talking about?” he asked as he staggered out of the rubble, somewhat shaken by the previous attack. “Take who?”

“Master Plume.” she said through gritted teeth. “Where did you take him?”

Lorkan stared hard at her for a moment before bellowing a laugh. He did not expect this, what a surprise. He was convinced they were here for the psionic archive, yet they were here for such a matter.

“You mean the silver Vissari I captured weeks ago?” he asked, stretching his back and shoulders, bones and cartilage popping in the process. “I won’t tell you.” he declared with a crazed glint in his eyes. “I will kill you instead.”

Anastajia raised her black sword and pointed it at the Taufean before taunting him.

“Big talk for someone like you.” she smirked. “Haven’t you already summoned your divine sugar daddy to bail you out?”

It infuriated Lorkan, causing him to rampage forth, swinging his great axe wildly in her direction. Taunting was a skill she picked up from Idrithrel, but who knew it would be so effective against someone like Lorkan?

His attacks caught only empty air with each swipe; she was dodging everything by a hair thanks to her psionic powers supercharging her movements, but the space for maneuvering was slowly getting smaller. Lorkan was pressing her towards the wall.

A psionic bolt shot out from the side, causing Lorkan to stumble backwards after dodging it. Nephinae just did Anastajia a solid while holding off the two cultists, and she would capitalize on the opening, releasing a stream of infernal Shroudfire towards Lorkan, engulfing him entirely. The stench of burnt flesh and metal was horrendous, but Lorkan was still standing, surrounded by a crimson mist.

“Nggh.” he growled as the mist healed his wounds and repaired his armor. His patron was not going to allow him to fall to the host of his sworn enemy.

‘That wasn’t good enough, princess.’ the Entity said to her; a tinge of disappointment was audible in its voice. ‘Unless you’re going to kill him in one blow, he’ll just keep coming back.’

Anastajia pressed on her assault, surrounding her black blade in purple Shroudfire at the expense of an insane amount of psionic energy. She slashed and slashed at the Avatar, blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth with each blow, but he was more than her match in armed combat, parrying and blocking her attacks with ease despite the infernal heat radiated by the Shroudfire.

“Haha!” he let out a crazed laughter. “To think you could use Shroudfire to this extent! I am blessed by this battle! Blessed!” before catching the tip of her sword with his spare hand. It burned, it burned so badly the pain was almost unbearable, but the trance of the Eater of Worlds dulled the sensation. Anastajia could not move in time, and Lorkan struck her dead center with a fistful of psionic energy, causing the flames around her sword to blow away.

As Anastajia let out a pained whimper and stumbled back from the impact, Lorkan brought Hell’s Scream down in a diagonal slash as if it weighed nothing, straight at her neck. It struck true, cutting through the armor like butter and opening her carotid artery. Hot crimson liquid spewed out and Anastajia jumped backwards, creating distance between the two with labored breaths.

She unlocked her helmet in panic, pressing down on the wound with her spare hand, but the bleeding would not stop until she activated her hyper-regeneration. Sizzling, the wound closed, dispensing steam and the smell of burnt flesh. Her eyes were shining a brilliant violet. She was already tapping deep into her powers; this was bound to spiral out of control soon.

Lorkan watched the red liquid drip from the edge of his great axe as Anastajia healed. He was enjoying this battle. She had much more to show him than the Psion of Rhar’I. As her wounds sizzled, he removed his helmet, allowing it to crash onto the floor with a loud thud.

“A human girl.” he noted. “Is the Imperium sending human children to fight their wars now?” he asked mockingly. “Where is idrithrel? I thought I would see her today, but she is not here.”

Lorkan looked around, scanning the surroundings with psionic energy.

“No, she must be in the orbit.” he thought out loud before looking back at Anastajia. “Tell me, is she the one who sent you after her former pupil?”

Anastajia remained silent, looking down at her crimson fingertips. Her wound had regenerated, leaving behind a small scar; could’ve been worse, she thought.

‘You cannot win.’ the Entity called out to her from deep inside her mind. ‘I witnessed your abilities, and I found them wanting, Anastajia.’

“Shut up!” she growled loudly, clutching her head.

Lorkan watched silently, a terrifying grin forming on his face. He spared a glance to the side, watching Nephinae and his two warriors locked in a stalemate.

“You cannot control it, can you?” he asked her as he lifted the great axe, tightening both of his hands around the handle. “Then, you’ve only come here to die.” and lunged forward once again, closing the distance between them instantaneously. Anastajia gasped, creating a shield of psionic energy to blunt the attack, but Hell’s Scream shattered the shield, sending her flying backwards.

‘You stupid girl. Are you trying to get me killed with you?’ the Entity called out to her again from deep inside her mind. ‘Retreat, now.’

But Anastajia stubbornly rose to her feet again, wobbling, as she used her sword to prop her up. She had expended too much psionic energy in regenerating that wound and using that much Shroudfire. She needed something to win, and she needed to win quick.

“Is this it, then?” Lorkan asked as he approached her slowly, the thunder of his boots getting louder and louder until he stood in front of her. With the flick of his arm, bolts of psionic energy shot out like missiles, striking Anastajia in the chest and stomach in a show of overwhelming strength. Anastajia collapsed to her knees, the closed wounds reopening once again.

Lorkan peered down, watching the girl tremble, and raised Hell’s Scream to the sky, ready to drive it through her skull for the final blow.

‘Move.’ the coarse voice of his patron echoed through his mind. ‘Move!’

Before Lorkan could understand what the Eater of Worlds meant, Anastajia drove her hand towards his throat, grabbing onto the edge of his breastplate. Shivers ran down his spine and an immense sense of dread engulfed him. As if certain death was upon him, all he could feel was the cold.

Eldritch words slipped out of the girl’s mouth, words that not even Lorkan could understand, and the breastplate began to rust in mere moments, breaking and scattering into a fine dust amidst a pitch-black smoke. Lorkan expended an enormous amount of psionic energy, detonating it between himself and the girl.

He would’ve been reduced to a pile of rust and meat had he not gotten away at that moment.

Both Anastajia and Lorkan flew backwards from the explosion of energy, crashing into opposite sides of the room.

He was sweating. The trance of the Eater was ended, or rather, it was overpowered by the immense feeling of impending death. Lorkan shuddered as he watched the girl rise from the rubble with slow, lethargic movements. The air around her was different. It was cold, like death’s embrace, and her eyes were no longer shining brilliantly, but were instead a dull purple.

Noticing the shift in her, the two cultists charged Anastajia together, forgoing their fight with Nephinae. As the two descended upon her and their weapons were close to drawing blood, time itself felt as if it slowed to a halt. However, this would be incorrect, and Lorkan quickly saw through it. Somehow, whatever she did, she did not stop time, but instead slowed it down for the two cultists to an infinitesimal amount, before turning them into a pile of scrap metal and gore. It was now two against one.

“This is what the God of Ruin can do.” Lorkan solemnly declared, reverently, even. Hers was an overwhelming display of psionic power that awed even him.

Alas, the price to pay for this spurt of power was one too heavy for Anastajia.

A crack formed in her skin, running from eye to cheek, before she collapsed to one knee, bleeding from her mouth and nose as the world turned dark. Like a porcelain doll, like the Empress of the Mirati, she too, would crack.

‘You lost.’

 

[crisrko]

As Anastajia opened her eyes, she was no longer on Na-Swe-Swuk. Her body felt heavy, not quite in control of herself. She stared ahead at a well-lit chandelier, cloth and fabrics wrapped around her. Her body was not quite her own, small and weak. She was in the body of a baby.

A woman leaned in, softly lifting her out of her cradle to nurse her. She did not recognize this woman, but there was an odd sense of familiarity, of belonging. As the woman laid down with her in her arms, she felt the warm embrace of a mother.

Time shifted forward. She was now an infant playing in a vast garden of flowers. Many species of flowers she had read about in books, like the Terran rose; other plants that she had never seen before. A man called out to her warmly, and she ran forth in his embrace. It was the warm embrace of a father.

‘To think that you have the time to be messing about like this.’ the cold voice said to her. She looked around, but she could not see where it came from, but that tone, the depth of that voice, it was none other than the entity residing in the deepest part of her mind.

A spark of psionic energy, and the image collapsed onto itself in a whirlwind of colors and shapes.

---

Anastajia now stood inside a dimly lit room, right before an ornate throne made of materials unfamiliar to her. She could sense the oppressive psionic force of the Copy, and as she looked up, she met its gaze. It stared back down at her; the disappointment and disgust were palpable.

“What was that?” she asked. “What did I see?”

“A memory. Something which you lost.”

“Something which I lost?” she repeated the question back to it with a scowl on her face. “Are those my memories?”

“Perhaps.” it replied in a tired tone, resting the edge of her chin on the back of her palm. “You have lost, Anastajia.”

Anastajia looked around, feeling her own body. She had returned to her own flesh, but her movements still felt sluggish, lethargic. For a moment, she tried to channel some psionic energy, but she could not.

“Am I dead?” she asked.

The Entity leaned back onto its throne; legs crossed as it rested her head against its right knuckle.

“No.” it answered. “Although, just barely.”

In a flash, it disappeared and reappeared next to her. With the wave of a hand, a canvas of psionic energy materialized before them. A window into realspace, broadcasting the events in real time, or perhaps a lie created by the psionic entity.

Anastajia could see herself lying in a pool of her own blood, breathing heavily after exerting her new powers. Nephinae was rushing towards her in slow motion, while the Avatar roared in victory, preparing to deal the final blow.

“I told you that you will never be able to use my real powers.” it said once again, turning and walking in a circle around her. “You cannot.”

The finality of its words angered her, but there was truth in them. She knew, from the moment she tried to take out the Avatar in a single blow, that it would be a gamble. A gamble which she has lost.

“He called you the God of Ruin.” said Anastajia as she turned to look at the Entity. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“A name. One of many.” it said, as the image on the canvas fast-forwarded with the swipe of its hand. “I have had many names through-out the ages.”

“You are no simple Shroud being, are you?”

It would not answer, but it needed not to. Deep down, Anastajia already knew.

Before Anastajia could say anything else, the image on the canvas stilled once again. Nephinae was standing before Anastajia’s body, standing defiantly in the face of the Avatar’s assault. Her weapon was chipped, and her armor was battered and broken.

How much of this was actually real?

“She will die.” it said, pitifully. “Because you failed.” and dropped down from its throne, wrapping its arms delicately around Anastajia’s shoulders and neck, its chin resting on her trapezius. “Your masters sent her here, to protect you.” it mocked, taking great pleasure in Anastajia’s torment. “Look.”

Another fast-forward, and the frame changed. Lorkan was standing before Nephinae, both of his hands wrapped around the handle of Hell’s Scream as he disarmed the Mirati warrior; the blade of his great axe was looming above her neck, shining with the crimson hue of the Eater of Worlds.

“She is going to die.” it laughed in her ear.

Anastajia turned around, violently shoving the being away, before grabbing and clawing into its collar with fury, pushing and pulling in a fit of rage. To the entity, it was like a child throwing a tantrum. It amused the being as it watched Anastajia collapse to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks in frustration and defeat.

“It is a pity.” it said. “But I cannot allow you to die just yet, Anastajia.” and walked past her, looking at the canvas.

Stretching its arm out, the canvas was ripped apart in a maelstrom of psionic energy, and everything turned dark.

---

Lorkan stood mere inches away from victory. As he knocked the blade out of Nephinae’s hand, he came crashing down on her, driving his fist through her breastplate, leaving a trail of broken metal. As his strike connected, the woman exhaled, and the air escaped her lungs. With a whimper, she collapsed to the ground, mere feet away from Anastajia.

“Haha… hahaha!” he laughed maniacally. He could no longer distinguish between friend nor foe; he was no longer himself. He was deep in the Eater of World’s trance, walking slowly towards Anastajia with a limp, his great axe grinding against the surface as he dragged it behind.

He stopped in front of her, reveling in his victory. His ragged breath steamed the air around him, creating condensation on his bloody snout as his lips curled with delight. He was the one to defeat the God of Ruin. He was the one to kill the host of the End of the Cycle.

Such thoughts could not be allowed to stand.

As Lorkan raised Hell’s Scream into the air with a mechanical whine, time seemed to slow down to a halt. His eyes bulged, staring down at Anastajia as the debris around her began to shake beneath a mist of psionic energy. His first thought was about his patron, but the forces around were different. It was not the aura of the Eater of Worlds, but instead the same cold aura the girl exhibited before collapsing.

He tried to move, his muscles bulging and contracting violently as the mechanical engines in the remains of his powersuit cried out against an unmovable, invisible force. To his horror, he watched the pool of blood at his feet retract, as if time was rewinding, back to its source. Back to Anastajia.

A voice called out to him, causing reality to stir.

“You? Kill me?”

It said as Anastajia began to rise to her feet, pushing herself up slowly, awkwardly as if such movements were unfamiliar to her. As she did so, the coldness continued to spread in all directions like a dome around them. Lorkan could feel the sweat on his body slowly turn into ice.

Anastajia’s head turned towards the ceiling as if she was staring through the metals and rocks, somewhere far away into the sky, into the stars and the void beyond.

“You do not need to be here.” it said, as Anastajia’s hand extended upwards as if grabbing something. Sparks and fragments of psionic energy scattered, and the red mist of the Eater of Worlds dispersed into nothingness, unable to return. Lorkan felt an immense headache surge through his head, like it was about to burst every vessel in his body.

He continued to watch the scene unfolding before his eyes with a frown. He could no longer move, and the trance of the Eater of Worlds had worn off. With his armor having been shattered by her final suicidal attack, he started feeling the brunt of the temperature. Even more so as Anastajia continued to approach him, one step at a time.

Her brilliant violent eyes were now gone, replaced by hollow, void-like pits. It was like her mere presence alone was consuming light. Her skin started cracking, running long lines all over her face and neck, stretching all the way over her body; a porcelain vessel about to break. Her voice was not quite her own either; it was much deeper, much more aggressive, somehow more ominous.

“She’s been possessed.” said Lorkan as he grimaced, looking down at the girl standing right in front of him. Her lips curled into a smile as she stretched out both of her arms in a self-aggrandizing gesture, releasing him from his temporary prison.

Lorkan created distance between himself and Anastajia immediately, tightening his hand around Hell’s Scream and reactivating his psionic shield. His entire body glowed with a crimson hue as his eyes narrowed upon her.

“It would be troublesome for me if she died today, pup.”

Pup? Mockery! He is an avatar! The Avatar of the Eater of Worlds!

But Lorkan knew better.

He is facing the descent of a being that stood above the four Shroud Gods. The God of Ruin. The Reckoning. The End of the Cycle.

“Initially I only planned on getting out of here and keeping his host of mine alive.” it said as Anastajia began to stretch her shoulders awkwardly like a puppet on a string. “But I cannot allow your foolish little patron to think that it can toy with me.”

The End of the Cycle was fully in control of Anastajia's body right now.

Her lips curled into a smile once again and she stretched her right arm out as if calling out to something. Her black blade whistled through the air, returning to its owner.

“I thought so before, but this weapon doesn’t seem half bad.” said the End as she weighted the sword in her palm. It burned with a black hue, spewing Shroudflame in all directions before engulfing its entire length with purple fire.

Lorkan scrambled to summon a secondary psionic shield and block the flames, but the End let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s been a long time since I have walked the mortal plane.”

He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. The words were not coming out, and before he even noticed, the End had closed the distance between them and brought down the black blade, cutting through the psionic shield as if cutting through butter.

In a panic, Lorkan swung Hell’s Scream, but the blade only caught a sheet of hardened ice. In the second it took him to counterattack the End had already used a cyrokinetic shield. Unnerved, he tried to charge forward and crash into the human girl, but he soon found himself flying upside down, crashing into a wall at the edge of the chamber. He had slipped on the icy floor. Everything surrounding them was turned to ice before he could even notice.

“It seems that defeating this host of mine makes you and your patron believe that you could challenge me.” it taunted and smirked. "What a bad joke.”

Before Lorkan could even get up to his feet, an infernal maelstrom of Shroudflame shot towards him, burning everything in its path. He tried to swing Hell’s Scream, maybe cancel out the attack with pure psionic energy, but the maelstrom powered through, burning away the psionic attack released by the Taufean. And so, he did the only thing he could do; he got out of the way, watching in horror as the flames continued their journey unopposed, melting a path through the wall’s chambers before scattering into nothingness.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the voice called out to him again, and Lorkan found himself frozen to the floor. Thick black ice encased his sabatons and bound him to the room’s floor. A sword whistled through the air, and he blocked the attack, watching as the End was hacking and slashing at him with glee. Between each attack, the End stretched out her empty hand, grabbing and pulling on pulling onto his ears, face and fur, striking him with mockery. Each blow thundered through the room. Lorkan felt as if his bones and muscles were being broken and rearranged inside his own body. It was far beyond anything a mortal could do, enhanced by psionic energy or not.

When the two weapons clashed once more, Lorkan stretched out his spare hand trying to grab the End’s head between his claws, but the End caught his paw instead, crushing it with immense force. Lorkan roared in pain, trying to pull his arm back, but to no avail, the End would not let go. As the End laughed once again, he felt a different kind of pain. His paw was no longer being crushed, but it was quickly decaying instead! The armor rusted and turned into dust. Blackened fur and meat, oozing pus and infection raced from the tip of his paw towards his shoulder at blazing speed.

In an act of desperation, Lorkan cut off his own arm at the elbow. With a loud thud, the meat fell on the floor, withering and eventually turning into fine dust. At the sight, he knew. Lorkan had bitten off more than he could chew.

“And to think that I went through the trouble of giving that back to you.” The End mocked him once again before stabbing the flaming sword through his other shoulder amidst the Avatar’s cries of pain. This was not a contest. It was toying with him.

Every time he managed to free himself from the black ice, the End froze him in place once again, slashing and stabbing the flaming sword into his body. Each wound was immediately cauterized by the infernal heat of the Shroudfire, prolonging his suffering. A never-ending cycle of physical torture.

Eventually, the Taufean relented, releasing Hell’s Scream onto the ground with a painful cry. He was a mess of cuts and bruises, and whatever remained of his armor was dented and broken beyond recognition. He was a mangled mess, breathing like a labored animal to be put out of its misery.

“Enough playing around.” she declared, dismissing the Shroudflame and stabbing the black blade into the ground. The End looked over the Avatar before snapping her fingers. Slowly, the temperature returned to normal, and the ice melted away, allowing Lorkan to collapse in a puddle of his own blood.

It spared him. There was no end to its insults.

“What is the meaning of this?” bellowed Lorkan. “Kill me!” he screamed. “Kill me!”

The End looked down at Lorkan before sending a devastating kick into his mouth, sending blood and spit flying in every direction. His jaw was broken and dislocated, hanging on only by the skin of his face.

“I won’t.” the End said as Anastajia crouched to his level. “You aren’t worthy of dying by my hand.”

With a snap of the fingers, psionic energies coalesced around Lorkan, and his body disappeared in a Shroud portal, his enraged screams echoing through the chamber.

“Tell your little God to mind its manners.”

With a deep breath, the End’s possession ended, and Anastajia’s body collapsed to the floor, returning to normal.

---

Author's note: That's a wrap for now. I'll be taking a break/hiatus as I work on the next arc. see you around

 

[Chac1]

After much reading during the past few weeks I have finally caught up to this great story.

I must say @crisrko certainly knows how to write cliffhangers and this conclusion to this portion of the work is no different. Plenty of loose ends to sort out and more to see about how this great fight truly ended.

I hope more folks jump into this AAR. Right now this is one of my favorites in the Stellaris sub-forum (although I have to admit I have a variety of new ones to sample too).

I hope @crisrko comes back to at least tie up some of the loose ends if not give us a lot more.

 

[crisrko]

After much reading during the past few weeks I have finally caught up to this great story.

I must say @crisrko certainly knows how to write cliffhangers and this conclusion to this portion of the work is no different. Plenty of loose ends to sort out and more to see about how this great fight truly ended.

I hope more folks jump into this AAR. Right now this is one of my favorites in the Stellaris sub-forum (although I have to admit I have a variety of new ones to sample too).

I hope @crisrko comes back to at least tie up some of the loose ends if not give us a lot more.

Thank you for the kind words, @Chac1 .

I intend to start posting the continuation in the next few days. I certainly won't be posting every two-three days anymore, but I am looking at getting a chapter every week or two.

I hope people continue to enjoy the story.

 

[crisrko]

Hey guys. Just wanted to give a quick update; I'll be starting the next act sometime next week; in the mean time, I will be updating the main post to organize things a bit better.

I'll also be adding a glossary containing information about the different factions/events/characters to it!

See you soon.

 

[crisrko]

Two years have passed since the liberation of Na-Swe-Swuk by the forces of the Mirati Imperium. Reconstruction efforts have begun under the direct control of the Empress, with the Galactic Council sidelined from the terraforming and repopulation of the former Behrfrangi Worlds.

Despite the best efforts of the Mirati bioengineers and artificers, some of the worlds have been lost, destroyed by the Swarm’s colonization process. For those worlds, the verdict was annihilation; they were fractured to remove any traces of life and corruption, so that they be stabilized and reconstructed in the future.

Several factions in the Galactic Council have called for the Imperium to allow the Council to take over the reconstruction effort and install a democratic government under the oversight and tutelage of the Galactic Community. In a dramatic shift of foreign policy, the Imperium told the rest of the Galactic Council to effectively pound sand.

Despite initial political fallout, the displeasure of the Galactic Community would quickly be overwhelmed by their need for support, as the Katgan Swarm continues it assault in the eastern side of the galaxy almost unopposed. Taufean, Vissari, Lofanasi and Ashkhety vessels engaged the Katgan forces, initially repelling the assaults. However, the attrition suffered by the allied forces was greater than the rate at which they could replenish and refortify their territories. Katgan ships have broken through all over the allied systems, annihilating several worlds in the process.

Faced with this new threat, the Galactic Coalition has finally passed the Katgan Crisis Resolution act. A new Galactic War had begun.

---

Alarms were blaring. A deafening cacophony of panic as Aleksander and Iris Cordero sprinted down the corridor of the Lualua Space Station. The walls shuddered with the impact of the alien barrage, each hit sending sparks and debris into the air. Red emergency lights flickered, casting eerie shadows over the corridors.

“Commander, the Katgan fleet is rapidly approaching! Our rapid defense force has been annihilated at the edge of the system!” a voice crackled over the comms, barely audible over the sounds of distant explosions. “At this rate, they will reach Lofanasi!”

Aleksander and Iris shared a terrified glance as they rounded the corner and found themselves at the airlock of their airship, their only hope of escape. It was a new human model, fitted with the latest jump drive technology. As they watched a squad of marines run past them, Aleksander threw the communication device to the ground, stomping and breaking it apart, before stepping onto the ship.

“Are we going to make it?” Iris barked, slamming her hand on the control panel to seal the door behind them.

“I sure hope so,” Aleksander replied, breathless as he strapped into the pilot’s seat.

Each explosion shook the hull of their ship violently as the space station was breaking apart around them. To their horror, they could see the entire Katgan fleet bear down on the Lofanasi defenses, their strike craft overwhelming any autonomous strike systems. Their grotesque, organic shapes silhouetted against the backdrop of the star. Hundreds of ships, ready to descend on the home world of the Conglomerate.

“Engage the Jump Drive!” screamed Iris as the ship’s defense systems were engaged, alarms and alerts coming to life; one of the Katgan strike crafts had targeted them. “They’re locking onto us!”

“We’re going to have to jump into Imperium territory. We’re going to blow our cover!” he yelled back as the strike craft approached fast.

Another explosion went off behind them, and the hull of the space station split open like an egg under pressure, knocking their ship adrift into space. Iris watched as the final Katgan volley hit the station, engulfing it in a blue maelstrom.

“Come on, Aleksander! We can worry about that if we’re still alive!” Iris screamed.

The ship’s thrusters roared to life, propelling them through the incandescent abyss. Katgan strike craft chased them through the wreckage, firing their matter disintegrators at the ship with no regard for their own lives.

They came from the Swarm and they will return to the Swarm in death.

Aleksander swerved the ship hard, narrowly avoiding a chunk of wreckage, before exiting the ball of fire into the void beyond. Space distorted around them as the jump drive activated, and with a blinding flash of light, the ship tore through the fabric of reality, leaving the burning remains of the space station behind.

---

It’s been a week since they’ve landed on Cemesta, an urban world and the capital of the Cemesta Polity, located in the former territories of the Holy Behrfrangi Foundation. It was part of the reconstruction effort underwent by the Imperium; the planetary governments reported directly to the Mirati and there were several Starfleets within jump distance to the capital world.

Aleksander and Iris did not have any major issues landing on the planet. After being given a security clearance at the Cemesta Spaceport, they landed on the planetary surface and were vetted by customs. Their employment with the Human Republic raised a few eyebrows, but they were ultimately allowed on the planet itself.

For the first few days they waited in one of the hotels off the main road, aware that they would be flagged in the Imperium’s records. Such was the nature of their arrangement with the Imperium, and the only way for them to move forward after their capture in Dark Space.

Today, however, the pair decided to visit one of the local establishments, a café.

The café was bathed in soft light, casting a warm glow over the assortment of tables scattered across the room. An array of diverse patrons filled the space: tall, insectoid beings clicking their mandibles as they sipped from steaming cups, short, molluscoid creatures whose bodies wobbled with every motion, and even a few Behrfrangi sat on elevated stools, their thin skin glowing as they hummed harmoniously to one another.

The smell was a strange mix of roasted spices, sweet oils, and even something metallic, though it was not unpleasant. Aromatic smoke permeated the air from one of the hookahs used by a Sylosi patron.

At a corner table, Aleksander and Iris sat close, nursing cups of something that passed for coffee on this planet. A black liquid, closer to tar in consistency and viscosity than coffee as they knew it. It shimmered with a faint glow as it swirled in their mugs.

“Not too shabby,” said Aleksander as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes never stopped scanning the room, taking in every face, every exit, waiting. His posture was casual, but his hand rested on the hidden dark energy pistol under his jacket. “The Mirati have been investing a lot of resources in this reconstruction, haven’t they?”

Iris chuckled, adjusting the collar of her buttoned shirt, trying to keep the scar on her neck concealed. “I like it here. Good atmosphere, and I haven’t had to look over my shoulder every five minutes since coming on the planet.”

“That’s because I’m the one who’s had to keep watch ever since we landed,” he groaned.

Iris stuck out her tongue in response.

“Has the Ministry of Truth contacted you ever since?” she asked quietly, her voice barely a whisper now. “Do you think we’re compromised?”

Aleksander glanced over her shoulder, watching as a group of Mirati soldiers entered the café. A man and two women, clad in the typical violet Mirati power suits, but neither of them was holding any long arms. It was not a patrol. For a moment, their gazes met, and the two women split off, heading over to the clerk.

Aleksander’s hand tightened over the handle of his pistol, while he grabbed Iris’s hand with his spare, squeezing hard. Iris frowned, nodding.

Eventually, the Mirati man approached their table, looking down at the pair. Judging by his armor’s ornaments and attachments, he was not a simple foot soldier. His shoulder decorations betrayed his association, the Ministry of Truth; though neither Aleksander nor Iris recognized this man.

With no regard for etiquette nor their status as spies of the Imperium, he simply pulled a chair and sat down next to them. Both Aleksander and Iris smiled, but beneath that smile they were cursing at his callous disregard for their position.

Soon enough, the entire café was cleared out, and even the clerk scurried off to one of the staff rooms. The two Mirati women stood guard by the entrance, switching the sign on the door from OPEN to CLOSED.

“I am Executor Udrin, your new direct handler in the Ministry of Truth.”

Executor? Aleksander and Iris shared a glance. This title belonged only to a select few members of the Order of Ecclesia and had nothing to do with the Imperium’s Ministry of Truth. Udrin continued.

“I will be replacing Miss Rolto as of this moment and reassigning you a new mission.”

“What happened to Miss Rolto?” asked Iris, taking a sip from her cup. If there was nothing she could do, she may aswell enjoy the rest of her beverage.

Executor Udrin pinched the bridge of his nose before answering. “She’s been… discharged. Her services are no longer of any use to the Imperium.”

In other words, they killed her. Aleksander and Iris nodded, but they were growing increasingly uncomfortable with this arrangement.

Udrin raised his right hand as psionic energies coalesced around him. In the next moment, the coffee mug was transported from the barista’s station onto their table, pouring himself a cup. After taking a sip from the beverage, he scowled, moving the cup away with disgust.

“As I was saying. As of this moment, you are being reassigned a new mission.”

“What of our cover?” asked Iris, interrupting him again.

Aleksander watched the Executor take a deep breath, visibly annoyed by her untimely interruption. Before he could say anything, the Executor answered by glaring daggers at her. She could feel an invisible pressure, something like a rope coiling around her neck; it tightened. She coughed, initially dismissing it, but reality would slowly sink in as she could no longer breathe, clutching at her own throat.

“Enough!” yelled Aleksander as he drew the pistol from beneath his jacket. In a swift motion, the Executor grabbed his wrist, twisting it and releasing the pistol from his grip. With a loud thud, Aleksander found himself crashing face first into the table, unable to escape the Executor’s hold.

“I don’t know how that woman educated you, but you will never interrupt me again when speaking,” he barked, releasing both Aleksander and Iris from his grip.

He sat back down, dusting off his shoulders as Iris took in desperate mouthfuls of air. Aleksander held his bleeding nose, nodding to the Executor. Udrin seemed satisfied with their reaction.

“Your cover is fine. We made sure to doctor the flight and travel records. As far as the fools on Nymonax are concerned, you have taken a detour due to the latest Katgan incursions in the eastern half of the galaxy,” he explained, pulling back the slider of Aleksander’s pistol and removing the dark energy clip. “If you’re concerned about Benjamin Kastner, then don’t. He will not be an issue.”

Aleksander and Iris nodded.

“Good. Now make your way back to Nymonax. Your job is to get an adept of the Order of Ecclesia through security and inside the vaults of the Shadow Council,” he said curtly.

Both Aleksander and Iris practically shot out of their seat. This order was effectively a death sentence. It was one thing to get them on Nymonax, but to access the rumored vaults of the Shadow Council? Insanity.

“Now, now,” he waved his hand dismissively before motioning them to sit back down. “Don’t worry. We’ve already obtained all the keys and codes necessary to access what we’re looking for. All you must do… is to get her there.”

“You expect us to get a psionic down there, undetected?” Aleksander growled.

“I do.” he answered. “Or you can spend the rest of your lives either in an Imperium prison, or dead on a Human world.”

“This is a breach of--” Iris tried to speak, but the sound of Udrin’s laughter cut her words short.

“A breach? A breach of what, girl?”

He turned to look at her, a savage glint visible in his eyes. It shook her to her core.

“As far as I am concerned, you two are disposable. You live simply because it would take too long to obtain new assets in the Human Republic.”

Udrin shrugged, leaning back in his seat.

“Quite frankly, no one expected you to survive this long, especially with Rolto’s departure. You should be proud of yourselves.”

Aleksander’s fists tightened, and he looked like he was about to strike the Executor. Iris looked at him desperately, shaking her head. It was not worth it. There was little doubt in her mind the Executor will kill him for it.

“Alas. Sometimes, things have a way of falling into place. The psionic you must get down there is also human, so you won’t have to worry about disguising her. Despite my distaste for her, she is quite the competent psionic.”

Aleksander sat back down, scoffing. Iris breathed a sigh of relief. Udrin simply smiled, an insufferable smile, before standing up.

“One more thing. Should the worst come to pass, then I suggest you die with her.”

With those words, Udrin tossed a data shard on the table and left with his two bodyguards.