Ductu Myrkul's Story

Mitch Agile has been wondering from place to place for a long time. He would continue to do so. Hoping to find new friends and more intriguing things. He was excited to see what the world had in store for him.

Atop the endless fields of Genesis a thin network of flat braces sat. Myrkul harvested the endless grasses as it built infrastructure and resources to better serve humankind. However, Genesis had its limitations in an immutable structure and aggressive nonaffinity for anything at all. A place far too neutral for its liking as its resources burgeoned. Space was difficult to move here thus leaving for the diplomatic arrangement. A wellspring well recharged after the breach of the bulwark provided more options. The infrastructure of cognizance crystal storage anchoring their transport network instead of the creature itself.

Though this place seemed a metropolitan area of imperial imagery writ in grey sandstone, obsidian monoliths, and pale white psistone it carried a purpose a different to one that dwarfed mountains. As the creature returned to genesis the sky alit in violent sparks of obstinate reality distending. Four spark eyes erupt into pure cerulean as the only spiraling luminous clouds in that infinite sky. Violent silty nebulae carve its way into Genesis as the overbeing emerges once more to return to its servitors. Whom knowing its arrival scurried past imperials confused and alarmed alike stopping only when interrogated as to what was going on.

“The Aether is complete enough to travel,” said each of the stoic creatures in their terse dusty monotone.

Spars emerge between ground supports as attentive servitors anchor the long roads spreading in every direction. A core of panels underpinning each building shifting and morphing as spars and machinery engage. As the large overbeing descends the network of tall observation spires fringing this place sprint into action. A thousand repeater obelisks, stories high, converge across an uncurved horizon their bronze aethermechanic gear transmissions racing within their lower section. Each silent if not for wind racing past. All hovering upright toward the Overbeing in growing erratic wakes of green grass. Myrkul’s vein rose miles high into the endless sky as each spear pounces bottom first toward the hard segments that appeared to compose the worm titan. Instead, as they bury their lower points to a ripple and detonation of motes, gears loose ponderous bellows from impacts of connecting axels and meshing gears. Deafening ears far across the landscape. Soon after an immense ticking as Myrkul engages with the structures in unison.

Decorated with spines the segmented plates that seem to serve as its skin shuffle and shift as they reorganize some nameless interior. The psychic field here a riotous cacophony of an intellect that sets itself apart as a weapon solely willed by the God-Emperor of Mankind for humanity’s causes. Inside these moving cathedrals floating within the overbeing single instants reorganize access planes in a flickered hall of mirrors. Quick enough that only a space marine might notice an unobstructed plane’s reassertion. In a sense packing its bags more sacred spaces of the Living Emperor were now buried deep inside to protect them. This paranoid servitor Overbeing was ever wary of Aetherkind.

A small waver in the collective grass came as Myrkul took hold of the great plates now containing buildings for imperial constructs. As it had built its own constructs Imperials that came from Wing City or other distant locales built their own. A metropolis that shifted in a grand momentum as entire regions raise from their sturdy plant on immutable soil. Gravity still downward even as city blocks or even manufactorums hefted into the air as these metropolitan puzzle pieces slowly arranged between the spires face inward. Other roads and byways dismantling entirely to reorganize the transportation network as they filled the gaps. Now the hard-edged sheath had its buildings on the inside. An armor without built from shining bricks of ebon and gold mesh the sheath took final shape above the earth. Genesis’ grass seemly no less disturbed by the oppressive weight once above it an immutable thing that initiated such difficulty. In little time the thunderous boom of connecting city blocks slowly ceased. An imperial eagle the size of some battleships now writ large upon the cyst’s leading edge.

A swirling warp aperture erupts within the sky as the sheath’s inner hardware vibrates the air and rattles teeth as it comes to activity. The hovering edifice alights in patterns on its lower section as titanic psycholocomotors slips Myrkul out of Genesis for the last time. Soon the plane would cleanse all traces that it ever remained at all. One last howling hurricane of air moved to fill the void as it traveled through the warp gate that blows grass inward as the creature slowly ebbs away. Soon the last vestige of the dark cyst passes the gate with harsh clanking and a blinding flash. Severed space welded back together once more. A warp concretion falls from the sky. A boulder of crystalline artifact from its passing the healed scar of a plane passing such a creature with its attendant mass through the fabric of reality.

As a testament to its immutable substance, the heavy warp concretion merely cracks and shatters on impact. Warp concretions shot as hot hail in every direction. Detonation hails these unstable fragments far and wide. Wrath of fracture arrested through collapse arrested the energy-hungry scar’s impact. The things had dubious power from both sides of the warp aperture. As well as the exotic matter of unknown substances concreting from the Immaterium and ordered space. Perhaps they would be valuable to some other soul but Myrkul could not attend this side. The sky was quiet once more and Genesis lay placid as ever if now sparkling.

Myrkul's attentions were larger things and hadn't noticed any boarders on its great vessel. Certainly Imperial Guard may do so, or the endless march of its servitors, but the interior of this planetoid-sized city was a vast thing indeed. A shell over a massive worm with spires mounted in its surface. Somewhere impossibly high above. It was dark here without a sun where its attendant servitors needed no light. The small amount of imperial assets here the only source of light in the distance. Servitors left only their spark-eyes among the dark a bare candle's light among the murk. Endless places of manufacture and imitations of city. Some storage of immense quantities of raw material other buildings sealed entirely from passage. Empty apartments and restaurants were everywhere writ by creatures with only a passing understanding of humanity. While they'd attempted to make the area 'hospitable' to humankind it left the empty metropolis looking as if amid some apocalypse.