The Multiverse » Places

         /say Who are you?

         /say hello

         "Unknowns have retreated...This city is always full of strange things and hostiles..." A Guardsman sighed as they went back to work.

For poor Ebba even though the noise began to fade away she just attached herself to Teddy and seemed to have no intention of letting go. Her eyes remained shut, she had cried enough to the point where tears could not fall. Her body was still shaking. And she still held him tightly.

Was it safe? She was not taking the chance to look around. She just wanted to be safe with someone she relatively knew and who was nice nearby.

         The Rocketeer stops, muttering something about having to get off-planet, and fast.

         Michael Wolfenstein continued to finish his cigarette while looking around for the contractor who had hired him. He took a few more puffs and drags before putting his cigarette out, when he noticed someone else looking at him.

He locked eyes for a moment with Dr. Lucius, and was surprised to see the director walking towards him before he throws his cigarette butt in the ashtray and pulls out a stick of red chewing gum, unwrapping it and placing the gum into his mouth before throwing the gum wrapper in the trash can as Lucius suddenly stopped to take a phone call. Mike waited patiently for him to put his phone away before approaching him casually, removing his sunglasses for a minute and folding them up as he extended one arm, shaking hands with the independent contractor in charge of paying him for his service.

"Mr. Lamech? Hi, I'm Michael Wolf, I'm here for the assignment?" Mike's wrist watch suddenly started vibrating silently, causing very light sensations against his wrist which only Mike could feel. Mr. Wolf glanced at his watch very briefly before inquiring about the current setting and further mission details, listening carefully even as a crew worker interrupted them during their short conversation.

He just wanted Mike Wolf to sign some papers, which he did without even stopping his stride as they walked towards the deployment chambers. "Colossal Bioscience Laboratories is here on a geological expedition to sample some rocks and stones from the mountains. I guess they have their own contract with XamGen and the Intergalactic Genetic Technology laboratories on Terra. Luckily for me, The Continental also has a few chains on Terra, so I was able to get a pretty good deal on my flight here."

Mike stopped and whistled loudly over the sound of the noisy and crowded deployment chamber, yelling at one of the workers in the orange jumpsuits wearing a neon yellow vest and hard hat to be more careful with the merchandise as he had nearly stumbled while rushing quickly to place a rather heavy and expensive computer monitor on to the back of a 10-wheeled transport truck with an open tent bed. "What's with all the equipment anyway? AEA Zeus? 700 Nitro Express? Mind telling me what this is all about?"

         

Treda did not respond to Adapa's chirping, but something else did. As the anomalous Belle took a moment to reflect on her past before working her magic and patiently using her intelligence to undo the knotted tails, a strange phenomenon took place. The other 11 adapises had gathered around her, forming a sort of protective circle around the goddess and their king. But they weren't looking around. Instead, they seemed to be focused on Belle and the five or six young adapises whose tails had become tangled and glued together. They were watching closely, observing what Belle was doing and occasionally glancing silently at one another before continuing to observe.

Apada and Fat Guss watched and listened. There was mostly only the sound of silence, with the breeze and the noise of the jungle causing the leaves and long saw-like grass to rattle and sway. There was a low rumbling, and Fat Guss looked down and rubbed his large round belly. Was he hungry again already? Fat Guss had just eaten a whole basket of mulberries before everyone showed up. He looked up at the demonstration again, watching Belle reverse engineer one of the Xamoyoadapiformes' most complex knots. The adapises had mastered the art of knot tying, but were now getting schooled in how to untie them. Some of the squirrel-like primates seemed to be lost in gaze at their own weapons and simple primitive costumes, which their inner-tree civilization had grown their entire culture and perception around for at least 200 years, if not longer. They were beginning to look at the knots they used to fashion such gear and question their own designs, seeing and retaining what Belle was teaching them.

They were learning and remembering what they see...

Fat Guss could feel the low rumbling again and looked down, rubbing his hand across his belly. He started to look up at the top of his seed staff, uninterested in the knotwork so much as the seeds themselves, trying to determine if he was still hungry. But then something strange began to happen. The rumbling got stronger, deeper and louder. "Guss, stop farting." Apada whispered, nudging Fat Guss with his elbow while his focus was fixed on Belle's craft. Fat Guss turned slowly and looked at him with a fixed, blankly awkward expression as the lower rumbling sound continued, the vibrations getting more intense. Fat Guss looked perplexed and speechless, staring at him. "Guss, wha-" Apada was about to elbow him again as he turned to look at Fat Guss, who was staring at him with a stupid look on his face. The rumbling was getting stronger, and by now Apada was beginning to feel the vibration also. Fat Guss began to shake nervously, his seed staff beginning to rattle slightly as Apada's eyes suddenly widened.

His ears perked up, and Apada turned around and gazed up at the giant banyan-like tree that was 150 feet away, looking at Adapa from a distance, who had been distracting the Xamoyan turtle by chirping and barking. Apada whistled through his buckteeth, catching Adapa's attention before chirping at him to stop barking. Adapa listened quietly, still looking at Treda cautiously while flicking his tail in spontaneous rapid gestures. But as the jungle began to move and he started to hear breaking branches and foliage, Adapa's ears twitched and his tail froze. There was a creaking and creeping, methodical high-pitched sound that sounded almost unnatural and mechanical. "Tchs... goddess? Chts tskcs, can we go faster?" Apada asked, seizing Fat Guss's wrist to make him stop shaking the seed staff. The slow, methodical creaking and buzzing of machinery became louder as it drew closer.

Suddenly all of the adapises in the small clearing were focused on the tall grass, close to but not exactly on the same paths they had come from. The grass to the tiny rodent-like lemurian lorisideia seemed like giant walls made of enormous green shoots and saw-like ferns, taller than themselves. But what was walking through the shrouded claws, partially rusted and covered in vines, was even taller than the grass. Fat Guss wasn't starving, and he didn't have gas at the moment. The rumbling sound was being caused by something larger and more dangerous trudging through the jungle, maybe even more dangerous than Treda who was already a massive predator. Adapa saw it first from his flattened perched gaze 10 feet above the turtle in the tall tree, and remained frozen, trying to figure out what it was that he could tell was nearing his position. Adapa couldn't smell anything different in the air which might suggest another lifeform was nearby, and found it difficult to see its full figure even as the unsuspected intruder approached within 10 feet of Treda, stopping abruptly.

It was an Automation Unit Killdrone...

AUK-53 as this more modern unit was called, the anthropomorphic cybernetic machine was carrying a high-energy rifle, wearing strange gear while making unusual noises. None of these things were familiar to anything else in all of their experience in the shrouded claws, and immediately Adapa was terrified, darting around to the back of the tree while climbing up higher and peeking around from the other side to focus solely on AUK-53, now staring directly at him without moving, starting the same process of his ritualistic staring contest all over again. "Gr-Greetingszzzz" the drone soldier or resistant fighter said as it stumbled upon them and detected their presence.

AUK-53 switched through its internal camera-sensitive cyber vision, detecting very little if any difference in the signatures at first before spotting the nest and the king on infrared, but on thermal setting he detected several heat signatures, perhaps more than he had bargained for when he entered the shrouded claws or the whale's belly. There was life hidden everywhere, camouflaged in plain sight, some smaller than the adapises, and some even larger than the turtle. Some had feet and some had wings, but almost none of them were bipedal, apart from the mostly arboreal giant great apes like Xamatopithecus or the small semi-bipedal primates like Xamoyoadapis, in this case, the small sentient and sapient loris-like rodential primates that were living inside the enormous banyan-like tree which towered even most of the other large giant trees which formed the jungle's dark canopy.

As he switched to infrared, the mammals and warm-blooded animals became invisible to AUK-53, but some of the exotic flowers and plant life became more vibrant and noticable, as did Treda's skeleton and Adapa's nest. As he switched his lenses and turned his spectrum back to the thermal setting, AUK-53's eye-like cameras started to detect the Xamoyoadapises quite clearly again through their colorful change in heat signatures, but their nests became invisible. Luckily for the adapises, their nests were in the core of the great tree, where it was very cold and damp, lacking any sunlight and too thick to detect with heat sensors. Adapa himself, however, stood out like a sore thumb, a bright contrast to the color of the tree he was poking his head out from behind to stare silently at AUK-53 with unblinking eyes, his tail beginning to dance and flick wildly side to side like a flimsy snake or tree branch, twitching with very rigid, sudden flickerings without rhythm or consistency, distracting any predators from his head or body as the other adapises 150 feet away from them started to scatter and hide, including Fat Guss who was the first to run for cover, stumbling and running into the brush without looking back.

But Apada and a couple of the more courageous xamoyoadipses stayed behind, waiting for Belle to finish her magic. Apada gripped his spear tightly with both hands and stood guard, determined to protect the king and goddess from whatever dangers might occur. Apada turned and looked up in the distance at the great giant home tree, but he didn't see Adapa this time. Adapa had finally changed positions and moved to a different spot, which caused Apada to breathe more heavily as he tried not to panic, turning to look at Belle. "No likey this feeling." Apada said quietly, looking down at the king. Meanwhile, Adapa stared at AUK-53 as it spoke. He thought he could understand what it was saying, but it sounded different, unnatural. Adapa didn't say or do anything, just stared at AUK-53 silently, trying to determine what to make of it as the drone soldier's form and shape became more visible to his more naturally, slower adjusting eyes which were unfamiliar with the drone.

         One of the CEF guards jumps, a short yelp emitting from her, startled, and quickly turns around, fumbling for the rifle across her chest. She relaxes as she sees the young man, and begins speaking, as the other guards start to walk over. "Holy-, Brother, you scared me. What're you doing here? We didn't expect-" She's cut off as another guard walks over, a yellow circle painted to look like a sun on his helmet. He looks at Terry, eyeing him up and down, and then says to him, "Speak, Brother, and let your intentions be known." The other guards begin to form a loose crowd around the inside of the fence, looking at Terry.

         Everything seemed to be going smoothly for the crew of the Imperial Aschen Warship Conflagration, until the moment they weren't.

Two audible beeps signalled the new sensor readings for the Stjornhestr's position, and they seemed to be on a collision course for the Aschen warship. Alarms began to blare all throughout the ship as the Commander grabbed the console and called out. "Frak me!" He shouted. "Adjust angle, thirty degrees, yaw twenty nine degrees port repeat hard to port! Evasive maneuvers, full military thrust!"

The massive million ton warship was not nearly as nimble as the much smaller magical viking longship, but it gave it's efforts to evade the collision as armored doors retracted near the nose of the ship, brilliant plumes of flame shooting out hundreds of feet as the ship struggled to turn left, and away from the Stjornhestr. It's shields flickered, and shimmered, and at these distances, the Stjornhestr's hull would impact the Conflagration's shields, which was a sensation not unlike suddenly hitting a wall of water, which likely aided in the ship's deflection away from the Conflagration. Milky white eddies of shimmering light erupted all around the Stjornhester's hull, harmlessly moving about like curtains of light, almost like a milky white, faded aurora borealis, the ribbons of light danced, and shimmered around the Viking longship until it had cleared the field.

At these distances, the finer details of the Conflagration could be made out, massive gun batteries, along with smaller gun batteries riddled the interlocking armored plates. At these distances, the naked eye could see each weld, each rivet in the hull of the massive Aschen cruiser, and even some of the crew pressed against the ship's windows.

If one could get a glance inside the Aschen warship they would see humans, in dark grey, and blue uniforms, hands splayed on the glass as they watched the events unfold in front of them.

However, the Conflagration managed to successfully turn away, plotting a course away from the Stjornhestr, and deeper into the void of space.

         The man shrugged, and then looked around, as he heard the loud clatter of activity outside the ship, knowing that they were all going to go to the open hatch near the back, from curiosity or from hunger. He then turned to the hatch in the back and his eyes narrowed, as he saw the drone skittering into the room he was in. He just shrugged, and stood where he was, and observed the drone, curiously studying it with his own eyes.

"Well, humans are two legged creatures, who have great intelligence at times, and can be violent, sad, mad, or happy, and a great more deal of emotions and thought processes, I am the more violent, but curious one, I usually keep the violence inside" he said with a grin and then adjusted his jacket, unzipping it, and having his white shirt under it, fitting his form. He then walked forward, unafraid, approaching the drone.

"Well then, come on, study a human" he said with a grin.

         /say PLEASE AND THANK YOU!

         The custodian was silent for a moment, a trillion different thoughts condensed into a single moment before he was back around a tiny ship somewhere in the murky seas beyond the Veil. His avatar aboard the Balena was of the typical “ancient civilization”, a bald man draped in a toga that crawled with a strange, ancient script.

”I do not have the might of the Apparatus at my disposal this time, though some of the occupation forces may be requisitioned.”

While VIRGIL organized an adhoc operation in less than a minute, the FTL booster transiting to the Balena was making its own preparations, albeit autonomously. The GXP ship was soon also joined by another as it taxied to the astral gate, the Leagueship Bison. The heavily armed frigate was a blocky distinction from the sleek Balena.

”You are clear to transit the gate, Officers. I am opening communication with the host nation now, as transit to Langara is tightly regulated.”

         Antok's face fell, this...wasn't going to be as simple as they once thought. He turned his gaze to his men, and pointed forwards to the opposing ships. He was practically seeing red, and did not wish to retreat. He wouldn't surrender. Him, and his men had come too far.

"Men! Attack!"

And all around, the ships began to swarm and power forwards for space combat. In the meantime, the Event Horizon began charging once more to prepare for a second attack.

         

Dogoda Station, somewhere in the Local Region

Distress signals were a fickle beast, Captain Intana thought to herself as she stood on the command deck of the CNS Agatha Rune, a 234m Atlas class Destroyer of the Exogarden’s patrol squadron as it listed quietly some six hundred thousand kilometers from the large arco-habitat. With a central habitat spanning nearly fifty kilometers in keel, Dogoda station dwarfed the Rune like an elephant and an ant.

For the nearly sixty thousand souls that called it home however, this tiny ant was their only hope of immediate rescue. It had taken the Rune almost three days to burn into the local space of Dogoda station, in which time a routine reactor cycling had gone from bad to worse. Two days ago, a power cascade had burned a six meter hole through the reactor shroud and dosed some eight hundred workers and technicians before failsafes could remedy the problem.

In nearly 72 hours, the number exposed had grown from eight hundred to nearly twelve thousand - not just reactor technicians and powerplant staff either. Now, their families were beginning to show acute radiation sickness, friends and colleagues that worked in completely different systems were now showing symptoms as well. A six meter hole in a reactor with more safeguards than a vault had poisoned thousands in the span of days.

What was even worse was that as problems compounded with the Dogoda station’s powerplant, other station systems soon began to falter and fail. Oxy-scrubbers in the outer-habitats lagged, air slowly spoiling until the very breath was stolen from the lungs as one entered a room thought safe. A working crew of sixty had suffocated to death deep within one of Dogoda’s scrubbing chambers in this way, and another twenty hospitalized with severe hypoxia recovering the bodies of their colleagues.

To call this an unmitigated disaster was an incredible understatement for Captain Intana, who gripped tightly at the railing of the deck. Splashed across a large airscreen projected at the front of the bridge, Intana watched closely as a pair of techs strode along the hull of the station’s reactor module. The Captain’s hands tightened, knuckle going white as she barked out to the sailors below in the pits of the bridge.

“Can somebody get me a god damn tight beam with station control? Those techs are standing on a fusion bomb held together with vac-tape!” Her voice carried along the bridge, comms-techs struggling to establish communications with the station after an array breakdown.

“Station comms are fried, a radiation spike hit their crystal matrix. We can reach them through code-line, but they’re repairing a systems bus now.” An Ensign reported, turning from his command banks.

“Slave the line directly to my Focus when we do, get some drones orbiting the station. Start finding every god damn leak in that hull - and get those techs away from that reactor module!” Intana ordered, quickly issuing her orders remotely with the soft wave of a hand before she turned to the bridge lift. Intana was bound for drone control, a Lieutenant joining her with a tablet in his hand.

“Captain, twelve hours before the reactor problems a ship flagged by the ESPF was renting a slip in the station’s dockyards … “ The Ensign began, turning with the Captain to join her in the lift.

“It’s a big station, smugglers stopping by, waiting for some contraband to cool off, could be anything.” The Captain replied, folding her arms neatly along her back. The concern etched on the young officer’s face drew pause from Intana for a moment though; as he continued, her sharp grey eyes narrowed.

“If it were that, I wouldn’t have pulled the ticket - SIGINT approximated the drive plume to an OPA merchantman that had recently ported in Hadriatica.” The Ensign said, offering a satellite image picked up from an interstellar probe listing aimlessly somewhere out in the depths of the Local Region.

“Spacer militias this far from their Shore planet.” Intana remarked, bringing one hand curiously to her chin. She studied the blocky compartments and sharp metal decks of the merchant vessel, looking at the sleek white wolf painted across the keel of the Roadehkar. She looked Govolian in design, a vessel built for harsh space and trade in a realm of stars where anything was a threat.

Intana was certain she saw the launching cells for missiles, and the bowsprit magnetic break of a keel-mounted railgun. Merchants were often heavily armed in regions of space like this and in the Garden, though the Roadehkar’s 340m keel seemed to be lacking merchant containers and compartmenting.

That was something Intana always used to spot pirates. No one carried a hold full of dried snack cakes and a nuclear missile at the same time for good reason.

“The Gidanadrome can pick up our OPA merchantman, when is the earliest a liner barge can reach the station for a mass evacuation?” Intana then inquired. A flagged cruiser leaving just prior to a catastrophic reactor malfunction was odd enough, though of the more pressing concern to Intana was the station itself.

“We estimate a day and a half at best, the Hutatha is an old aid ship grandfathered into the Terran Navy but slow - though, they’ve dispatched all hands for a humanitarian mission.” The Ensign promptly reported, shifting while the lift began to descend softly. Putting his own hands by his side, the Ensign’s face darkened for a moment. “We’ve been unable to communicate so far with station control however, and haven’t informed them of the vacuum fire: the Hutatha may be only a day out, but in twenty hours that hole will be bigger and - “

“That’s why re-establishing comms is a top priority. My plan is to piggyback some multi-drones into a comm-line with the Runey. Hopefully Lieutenant Commander Page will have a fix for the reactor shroud in the meantime by then.” Intana stated bluntly, watching the doors then peel open into the drone control deck where a pair of Starfleet officers stood before a holographic, orbiting view of the t-shaped station.

“Captain on deck! Disembark the first stack of multi-drones!”

Lieutenant Commander Winley Page stood with her hand fixed over a vac-helmet at her side, promptly saluting with the other hand. Nearby, a technician monitored a drone terminal, where outside the first of ten MRD drones disengaged from their coupling stations on the Rune’s hull.

At only 13 meters in length the Mors drones weren’t any particularly large or well equipped craft, though their usefulness in carrying the large pod relays for comms was understated. It would take around thirty of these drones to establish an adequate audio/video comms-line - accessing station systems would take the systems deck another two and a half hours to complete - but would at least be a functioning link between the Rune and station control.

As the first stack of ten drones drifted along into the empty void between the destroyer and Dogoda station, the distress call that had cycled before station comms were fried continued to blare through the darkness.

”This is Dogoda Station broadcasting on emergency rescue frequencies, we have suffered a catastrophic reactor malfunction and are in dire need of radiation control. If you receive this broadcast please retransmit."

         A literal handful of electronics debris spit out from the Shadow Phoenix and floated in a scatter off into space. Immediately after, the warp drives engaged.

         The ship was unremarkable as it drifted into Sol. The only thing strange about it was that it came from a part of the multiverse never before ventured into by any being.

On board the ship, two beings were awake. They were Oberon, a race very similar in design to the Terrans they were here to learn about. The ship itself, the Expedition IV, was very simply designed. It was in the shape of a pyramid with a narrow base, a shape seen all around the galaxy in ship design.It was unmarked except for two parallel lines intersected by another line, marking that the ship had a skip drive. The little ship just stayed where it was, and the people inside began to prepare for the next part of their mission.

         Master O nodded in agreement.

Very well. I'll tell the others.

he said, before grabbing his coat from the rack and departing for the docking bay.

         Meteor flickered emerald and nyoomed off west

         

Mike Wolf stepped off of the small private airline VTOL passenger spacecraft resembling a white suped up futuristic model of a Cessna 208 Transformer caravan, standing between the two sexy stewardesses in their tight white aviation mini-dresses and black brimmed peaked service hats as he peered out over the vast spaceport with its many busy transit stations and tourist centers, looking over the futuristic airport to the magnificent city of tower buildings and skyscrapers which ascended into the background behind them. He lit a cigar using his embroidered silver torch flick-liter and put his black sporty UV-ray sunglasses on, adjusting his bright red long neck tie before running his fingers through his combed back slick black hair, receiving farewell from the smiling stewardesses who waved goodbye as he stepped down the automated mobile stairway docking platform on to the metallic landing strip, where a bright candy apple red convertible Chevy Corvette was already waiting for him with the driver side door wide open to reveal its full leather interior. A valet in a black suit held the door open for him and handed him the keys as he approached the fancy car.

"Mr. Wolfenstein, I presume. Here are the keys, sir, via your booking request. May I inquire sir as to what brings you here to Asteria City?" The valet asked in what sounded like a very proper African or British accent, closing the door behind Mike Wolf as he climbed into the vehicle. "Vacation cruise tickets," Michael answered, sticking the key into the ignition and firing up the engine. The car was an old classic, but it was in perfect mint condition and purred like a kitten as he bit down on his imported lit cigar. "An excellent place to relax and feel the breeze. Good day to you sir, enjoy your vacation" the dark skinned valet said with a smile as he stood by and watched Mr. Wolf drive away. Michael was heading to one of the fine white sandy beaches overlooking crystal clear aqua blue colored water, but he wasn't on vacation. He was actually going there on business to discuss a potential contract he had not yet heard the details about. But the payment plan perked his interest and he agreed to meet with the proprietor on the Eastern Seaboard as he left Asteria City and drove to the beach.

Jonathan was already there, feasting on crab legs while sipping on margaritas under the shade of one of the laid back but expensive tiki bars at the beach's luxury guest resort in the white powdery fine seashore sand when Michael casually approached him, catching the man's attention. "Mr. Laurence?" Mike asked. John could see that the man standing before him was obviously wealthy based just by his choice of clothing. He grabbed his cloth napkin and wiped his hands before standing up and greeting him with a handshake. "Ah yes, you must be Mr. Wolf, it's good to meet you finally. Please, please, have a seat. Have a drink, come, sit" Johnathan Laurence said as he invited Michael to sit with him, which indeed Michael did. The bartender asked him what kind of drink he wanted, and Mike Wolf ordered a margarita of his own before he and the proprietor started making casual conversation. They talked about travel, about life and its perks, a little about drinking, a little about playing golf or smoking cigars, before finally their conversation led up to business, and the reason for their private little social arrangement at the remote beach resort.

"$10-million dollars, that's the amount that Dr. Rizhiel is offering in exchange for the neutralization of John Wick, but he asked for you specifically," the proprietor started to mention. "Why me?" Mike asked curiously. "Why else?" the proprietor rebuttably answered, ordering two more margaritas for him and his guest. "That won't be easy... I'll think about it. But in the meantime, what else you got?" Mike inquired, causing the proprietor to look at him blankly with a more serious expression as he took a sip from his drink before putting his glass down and reaching into his white coat pocket. He pulled out a folded paper pamphlet and set it down on the table in front of Mr. Wolf, who glanced at it before pausing to look at Mr. Laurence, then picking it up and unfolding it to look at its contents. "$46-million dollars, Mr. Wolfenstein, half in advance, half once you have completed your assignment. That is of course, if you are still interested." Mr. Laurence said with a calm tone. Michael flipped through the pages of the pamphlet but he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Where is this at?" he asked, confused.

"Bastion IV," John Laurence answered, re-liting his cigar before leaning back in his chair. Mike Wolf skimmed through the pages of the pamphlet some more before looking at Mr. Laurence with an expression of disbelief. He took a long moment to consider his answer. The contract was issued for a very dangerous, almost impossible assignment, but the payout was so tempting it was hard to resist. He started to imagine what he could do with fourty six million dollars. After a long and careful consideration, the two men shook hands and ended their meeting, finishing their margaritas and going their separate ways. Mike Wolf folded the papers and tucked them into his black coat pocket, walking back to his car before hopping in and driving away, heading back to the Asteria City airport. At roughly the same time, Mr. Laurence went back to his own luxury vehicle before starting his futuristic silver SUV and also leaving the scene, heading back towards Solinus City.

         

Hello?

         /say *roars loudly*

         Raphael passed the stranger while paying little heed to what was going on. His gaze was fixated on the terminal in front of him, where a large, but ancient ship was docked. The strange, angular design of the ship contrasted with the sleek, futuristic design of Freeport's coming and going.

Raphael didn't stop, but walked at a hurried pace towards his terminal.

         Parem'Zel Not seeing any real signs of life, Parem continues on his travels. Calling upon the energy of his soul to open a portal to a new realm.

         how do i leave?

         Murkstav smelled it deep in the rocky canyon. Choosing between its thirst, its need, for water, and tearing him limb from limb. He took a blade out of a satchel along his lower back, a sharp thick blade he had named Swallow.

It glinted and danced, the mercenary could see his very reflection in the blade. Against the blue sky his hard deep features, as if cut from a knife themselves, looked back at him. His gray eyes, thinly hiding a desperate fatigue. His hat, long brimmed more for deception than shade- it seemed almost enough to cover wearer and horse.

He approached the area of the lake, trying to draw the thing out. His black armor, riddled with pockets and tiny satchels, filled with the tricks of his trade, cast a long shadow between rock outcrop and lake.

Murkstav looked up, then where the growling and panting came from, then cast Swallow up at the blazing sun, curling it, reflecting it off the rocks.

Sometimes things cannot be resisted.

         Garleunatri smiled briefly as she pocketed the small, dyed satchel. It was slipped away before the indigo could stain her hands. The dark and deep of her pockets were of no bother, and for the first time that day the elf was glad she had dressed in her black skirts. Black was impractical in this climate. She had realized that all too late.

Now, to find where that little rat-scal had scampered off to!

Scanning the crowds, Garleunatri clicked her tongue. She refocused her ears and gazed off through the market.
No, the little creature hadn't gone left.
She panned her vision right, into a large canopy boasting wonderful rugs.
No, the qote new better than to go into a store without her.
Looking back to the left, her eyes slid right over the man who wasn't there before.
So where did-

Wait a minute. Garleunatri sought out his eyes with her own.

So where did he come from?

         /up

         She watched intentively as he holstered his weapon, a relief certainly, but also taking note of how he handled it. She had no idea what it did, but now she had a good idea how it would be used... not that she looked forward to it.

He seemed to trust her at this point, enough to waddle up to her. He certainly seemed lacking in mobility, maybe why he needed that wheeled construct? He reminded her of an elder, and as they say about elders, she wasn't about to disrespect. She did wonder why he would want these suspect berries, but reached out and carefully poured them into the satchel.

"W-welcome," she stuttered, gripping at her scarf. She wasn't sure if showing too much intellect was safe.

         A strange sorcerer-looking figure shimmers into existence.

         Spike and Aki had appeared in the village. Apparently they were now in the center of town, formally known as the school, but jus called the sitting area by everybody. Spike would INSTANTLY notice something is wrong. Not only were the trees absolutely humongous, but Aki, the little girl who was barely half Spike's size, was now equal in height with her.

Before the duo appeared a beautiful woman with slender features, average bust and the fairest skin. A thing of note was how little she wore, but a glance around at the other villagers shows they don't wear much either. Soon after appearing, the woman spoke with a gentle voice, but one that also commanded attention and awe at the same time. While she spoke with dignity, her aura felt overwhelming.

"Hello, child, Aki. Welcome to our home. Aki has informed me that you were kind enough to her at that Gambit's place. I thank you on behalf of the village for that. I am Rizu, the Goddess of these children. You now stand inside our village, sealed off from the rest of the world. It may come as a shock to you, but your size has been reduced to that of theirs, just as my own has. This is a sacred place and I would ask that you keep it that way. When you leave, I would like to request your confidentiality on this place as we are isolated for many reasons. Fair warning, child, if harm comes to any of these children from you, your memories of this place and it's residents will be erased and you will find yourself back from whence you came. I do not take joy in doing this so I would plead that you do not let it come to that."

"Hello, Lady Rizu! Ehehe~ This is my home, Lady! Well, my home is the house over there with a smiling face on the door...BUT but but! It's really fun here!"

Many fairies flew around the village doing various tasks, carrying armfuls of berries, catering to flowers also at their size, tending to the pond to make sure it stays clean. Each fairy wore different colours, signifying their magic. There was one fairy, who had no wings at all. Was she even a fairy? She was tending to a maimed bird under a tree. A small and frail looking fairy was being followed around by...flowers? They just sprouted where she walked and when she was far from them they sank into the ground and re-sprouted near her. Other fairies were frantically running about chasing each other playing tag. Aki looked up at Spike, waiting for her to do or say something.

         Treda smelled the strange squirrel from earlier, and slowly began in that general direction.

         Shiny Gallimimus squawked, startled by the new arrival. It sprinted away with the steady thud of its webbed feet.

         Discord strutted down the street and hummed a merry tune. He pulled a coin out of his suit jacket, flicked it once, and tossed it behind him where it was found by some passerby. It was not an ordinary coin though - far from it - but a rare collector’s item pulled from space-time out of a bygone era. No doubt it would fetch a hefty price to the right person and make someone a small fortune, but Discord had no idea if it would make it that far. For all he knew, it would wind up being spent in a vending machine or wind up behind someone’s couch cushion for the next twenty years.

But that was half the fun in his book.

He stopped in front of a clothing store and admired the line of men’s jackets on display. Discord stood so that it appeared his hazy reflection would be wearing one of the pieces, and he smirked.

“Not bad, not bad. It could use a little more color… Maybe some non-euclidean angles.”

“I don’t know…” His reflection replied. “It’s a little tight around the waist.”

“Hey, are you saying I’m fat?!”

“Of course not.” Mirror-Discord rolled his eyes. “Just that we should probably lay off the chocolate milkshakes for a bit. Try a new gimmick.”

“Well what would you suggest? The ambient magic here isn’t high enough for too radical conjuration. I have to work with what I have for now.”

“Puh-lease. We’re in a written medium! The possibilities are only limited to what can be described on a page, just as long as we don’t tweak too many noses with our shenanigans. We need to do something new… something we didn’t do back home… but what?”

“Hmm…” Discord stroked his goatee.

Meanwhile, a small crowd had gathered around the lunatic that was seemingly arguing with a mannequin. The morbidly curious watched with disturbed fascination while those with more sense gave him a wide berth.

         /say hello

         Mydas climbed lazily up to a low stone wall in the garden, just outside the hedge maze. A sun-bleached statue was perched there, bare feet dangling from the hem of a long, sculpted gown. The statue had her hands braced on the back of the wall, leaning into them to bask her face in the sun.

Her lap proved the perfect cradle for the chunky orange tabby. He settled in, nudging his body about until finding the perfect sideways curl. One orange leg kicked to the sky, and his front right paw came to rest backwards across his eyes. Soon after Mydas fell asleep. Little snores made their way from his nose, a gentle addition to the chips of the birds and the buzz of the bugs in Lorhill Gardens.

         Finis scaled their way to the rooftops and cut towards the high walled garden.

         Finis weaved around the edge of the small crowd, dodging through the legs of a small woodwind quartet and west to the Lorhill Veranda.

         Finis stepped out from a shadow, the slightest trail of sparkles twinkling out of existence behind them. The fluffy black cat delicately sniffed the air. Fish. People. Fish.

Sticking to the shade of the well worn path the fluffy black cat made their way into Lorhill. It was a beautiful little city, more of a town, but it smelled of fish and happiness.

         A fluffy black cat sauntered through the busy market. Nobody seemed to pay him any mind, much less notice his lack of shadow. Finis let out a purr and brushed up against Raywaen's leg.

         Treda looked up at the mountains, decided no, and turned around.

         Treda trudged toward the lake, leaving flattened vegetation in their wake.

         Treda knew not where they had stumbled into, but decided they didn't like it, and stumbled on back out.

         AUK-53 marches through the sandy beach, rifle in hand, as he searches for life.

         Liren Amakija He began running northwest

         Herman Fogg wasn't upset about it. Something new never happened where he was from, and here was literally the most new thing that could ever occur. It was right here and it was in his backyard.

It was literally in his backyard.

Harman examined the charred skull, nestled within what he supposed could have been a helmet, by prodding it with his boot. It crumbled a bit where it rolled over. Herman winced. Disgusting.

There were other lumps of things in the small crater that was now comfortable in his backyard. Herman moseyed over to one of them. As he walked, he inspected the charred grass and considered how much his mother was going to kill him for it. Not that it was his fault, shit falling from the actual sky, but it would be. She'd find a way. She always did.

The other lump, as it turned out, was even weirder than a skull. As if the confirmation that there were people up there (evidenced by a partial dead one right here) it seemed they may have dabbled in magic. Herman couldn't help but chuckle. This was nonsense. He picked up the crystal thing. Was it humming?

         Daemala Tauvyr stepped from the shadows of the border of the trees of the Cursed Wood, into the stark moonlight. A chill had descent over the region, a blow from the north carrying the distant cries of the fallen. The raven haired woman sniffed at the air and adjusted the hem of her ruby velvet sleeve.

High in the sky, the stars were doing their best to twinkle. Daemala smiled at the sky with tight lips. It was rare to see the stars in her recent take on life. Between trees and light pollution, the forever above was black and bleak. Not tonight.

The woman in the sweeping ruby gown continued to survey the edge of the wood. The wrought iron gate, the swirling fog. The trees older than time. The ghostly blue rose. The darkness- wait a minute.

Daemala turned her full attention to the blue rose, and frowned. Flowers didn't grow here. What, for the love of darkness, could this be?

         Daemala Tauvyr noticed a lot of smells. Some new, some old. She was out for another stroll with her shadow. It seemed it was time, soon again, to rally her kind and clench a fist on the night.

But first, some fun.

The talons of her shadow scratched at a tree as she reached to touch it, but didn't. Lycanthrope. Werewolves. They were here, somewhere. It seemed they weren't all scared out or tamed ages ago. As much as she hated to admit it, some of her best patrons over the years were dirty dogs.

There was also another smell.
A familiar smell, while completely unfamiliar.

Vampires.
Other vampires.

Daemala tucked the memory in her mind, deciding she might find them. After all, they had found the Vankoryth Detente. She grinned. Her fangs flashed. Oh, what a lovely night!

         Ghost of Aurora floated gently through the Grove of Aurora, gently sobbing. Nobody could hear her so it seemed. Neither could they see her. She wound her way through the vines and spiny trees. Sometimes she passed through, sometimes she took the tight disappearing path.

Eventually the invisible young woman came upon a statue. The sleeping stone woman was familiar. She choked out another sob, laying down over and through the statue: a perfect fit.

A single sob rang through the Grove of Aurora, as audible as anything else in the living world. The ghost cried herself to sleep, an invisible tear falling to the ground. She disappeared into thin air. Where her tears had fallen, a single blue rose bloomed.

         

Intergalactic News Network

Your Source for Intergalactic News

!

STRAIGHT FROM THE MILKY WAY
THE INN : NOW
YOUR SOURCE FOR THE LATEST INTERGALACTIC HAPPENINGS

---

SIRIUS COMPLICATIONS

Gaia

A planet within the Sirius System that orbits the dead star; Eras. However, Gaia is not lacking light. Two other stars orbit the planet itself; Atargatis and Sagittae. Three moons provide temporary night when eclipses take event, otherwise Gaia is always bathed in sunlight. It is only due to the magical nature of Mother Gaia which provides the necessities for fantastical life to grow, the planet always ever watching over her beloved children who roam her earth.

We are live, reporting to you from right outside the edges of what's known as the Sirius Star System, where an anomaly has been spotted: a native space-faring vessel, departing. This departure provokes a shocking question for those who are familiar with the Sirius Star System: How?

For the entirety of recorded history in the Milky Way Galaxy, the planet Gaia of the Sirius Star System has been considered to be untouchable. All who tried to land on it's surface found themselves crashed, each vessel's crew never heard from again. There was something about the planet Gaia that didn't allow technology to exist there, beyond a point. While the majority of the galaxy continue to wonder what happens on the surface of Gaia, one civilization has managed to gather first hand knowledge straight from the surface of the planet.

That's right, folks: Gaia is no longer untouchable.

This untouchable status was broken by none other than the Taiyou Empire. Galactic citizens may recall rumor of a terrorist attack against the city of Niihama by natives from the planet Gaia. This attack has been confirmed by sources within the Taiyou empire who wish to remain anonymous. While many sources dispute who exactly the attacker was, there's always one commonality: Vikings.

Iskjerne Vikings

Titans of the North, with a line of ancient kings going back for centuries to the time of the Trojan War.

Now, here, we witness the passing of not one, but two, Gaian-native vessels- Viking vessels, our sources have confirmed.

Just how did the natives of the planet Gaia, known throughout the Milky Way Galaxy for it's barrier of technology and lack there of, make it this far? Is this the direct result of contact with the Taiyou Empire? Will the Vikings terrorize the next civilization they come into contact with, or will they simply pass them by much as they did the Intergalactic News Network Cruiser we're reporting to you from?

Stay tuned and follow this story only onINN: NOW.

         Cole Maibara rubbed his hair, grumbling after all of that travel... "Gah...that was a fuckin' headache. Ah, but, I guess I'm back on Terra. I suppose. We'll see how long it takes 'til I get ringed for my absence. Or something."

         Sometime later, Gabriel and Agares walked through Port Solinus to their destination. Their cargo had been inspected, dismissed, and was in the process of being shipped to their destination.

         Selerei slithered beneath the waters, twining through the brightly colored reefs. There were no fish that dared swim near the shadow of the beast. It was only the serpentine monster that marked motion as it worked it's way across the bay.

         /say Look

         /say Is anybody there?

         The Liarror felt themselves being moved. This was long after a massive crack had been formed on their face, by the fist of one St. John Bovinesque Jr.

         Selerei slithered awake in the deep, heading west.

         

Intergalactic News Network

Your Source for Intergalactic News

!

WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST WITH
THE INN : NOW
YOUR SOURCE FOR THE LATEST INTERGALACTIC HAPPENINGS

---

The City of Vien, home to the Lac Long Quan Arena and host of the famed Hunt, is thrust into the spotlight of the galaxy today as celestial conflicts collide. Here at the base of the Quan Memorial, delegates from Freeport and Vintu have assembled for no other reason than The Gargantuan Crisis, while the most of the populous spectate a first for the great Hunt - a God has come to claim the title of champion!

Mungus DeSiero, who yesterday was seen departing the Silver Palace, is here with a small assembly, including one cloaked figure rumored to be none other than Prince Nara of Vien. Little is known about the newer draconic rulers of Vien other than their enthusiasm for infrastructure revitalization and all things shiny. The two are joined by Arthur Lovens, Free Knight of the White Flame, hailing all the way from Freeport to assist with the Gargantuan Crisis.

The Gargantuan Crisis began when a rogue gargantua destroyed part of a town, continuing on to destroy more countryside. As gargantua fail to be aggressive in the wild unless provoked, it is much cause for alarm for the citizens of Vien and the greater region of Vintu.

A large crowd has gathered, here at the Quan Memorial, seemingly on the tail of Arthur Lovens. The rest of the city are spectating a fateful match between the God Yvandir and a gargantua. From the cheers erupting behind us, it sounds to be quite the show! Over in Freeport, citizens have already begun celebrating Yvandir's victory. Rumors have begun to circulate of the delivery of his invitation to the Hunter Society.

Will the God defeat the Gargantua?
Will this small party of important people succeed in finding the Rogue Gargantua?
Stay tuned to the Intergalactic News Network for more!

         Ramuki seemed genuinely concerned for her baby

         Arthur Lovens stepped gallantly onto Nadala Drive, a small crowd pooling from the Blue Core Lodge behind him. As the Knight of the White Flame made his way to the Quan Memorial even more gathered to follow.

His type wasn't a common sight in these parts, and everyone knew why he was here. A growing murmur swept through the streets as more and more rushed to the Quan memorial. Arthur maintained composure as hubub from the north indicated that the others had already gathered, and with them an even larger crowd.

         Arthur Lovens had woken up and prepared himself for the day. He had dressed himself in the stiff White Flame regalia he had grown to love, and had continued to wait for the call to action.

The call to action came once. He responded to the message on his phone with a single emoji: a white flame. Arthur Lovens was ready to ride.

With a tall back and his cloak flowing behind him, Arthur Lovens strode across the lobby of the Blue Core Lodge. A few spectators pointed and hushed their company, and then a few more. The Knights of the White Flame had been deployed. A couple younger people in the crowd snapped a picture to upload to social media.

         Mourning sighed, a birth day. Birth days were celebrations sometimes, and sometimes they were the same day as a different kind of celebration. The kind that had eyes wet in a different sort of way, and not from smiles.

The cloaked figure realized they didn't bring any presents. That was something that was done, at parties, for birth days. Presents. No matter, an easy fix.

From within their cloak, Mourning drew a glass vial. It swirled with a silvery liquid, one that changed to an inky black where it caught the light and glittered where it should have hosted shadows. Mourning turned it over in their hand. Inside, a tiny flower bloomed in dark smoke and wilted into a skull, before blooming back and wilting again, and again, and again, so quick that a blink would count it a missed sight and the memory would host it as hallucination.

         Doreen Terrazip exited her cabin as she felt their descent finalize, flowing with the small crowd of other students who were below deck topside. When she arrived, most had gathered by the gangplank which was down.

The Professor already had his hard hat on, she noticed as she peered over the edge. He was shouting back at them instructions. Doreen paid close attention.

"SINGLE FILE DOWN THE PLANK! GRAB A HARD HAT, AND GATHER HERE," The Professor pointed at a spot in the dirt between him and a copper ribbon which was encircling the wreckage. Doreen barely heard the the rest of what the Professor was saying. The giant hulk of metal was, well, huge. Foreign. Impressive. Strange. Alien.

"DO NOT CROSS THE RIBBON!!" The Professor shouted with a clap. Doreen jumped and moved with the crowd towards the gangplank. Slowly, still drinking in the site.

         “Well...?”

“Well what?”

“Arent you going to investigate?”

The Captain looked up to the sky in the direction of whatever had crash landed, “Don’t particularly feel like it, no. Why?”

“Just seems like the prudent thing to do in this scenario.”

“Ugh fiiiinnee. We’ll send out a drone or something. Two of them. And a Servitor with each.” Turning his hat up, he went back to his afternoon nap. “Wake me if they find something neat.”

         The smoke was quick to dissipate from theimpact. As Pramia turned, a strange form caught glint of the sun, flashing a ray of light before a cloud entered it's path.

         Fool looked to the ground, noticing something ominous amongst the other crap. He opted not to touch it. Also, what was with the... the owl? In the corner.

         The Rogue Gargantua grumbled and flicked out a massive obsidian claw, destroying a red pillar of rocks.

         A small collection of ships appears over Gaia, slowing to a stop just outside of the atmosphere.
The ship is the CU Cheerfulness, a ship in the Oberon's Colonial Expeditionary Force, and it's escorts. They have come to explore Gaia, and being slightly aware of the magical composure of Gaia, have a crew equipped for such.
The dropship readies in it's hangar, and the five crew members board it, performing a quick prayer for protection. The crew of the small ship, prepared for their one-way trip, brace in their seats as the ship is dropped into the atmosphere.
The ship momentarily turns red as it burns through the atmosphere, then cools as it enters, streaking down towards the ground.

         The red-washed Viking civilization looked from far, far away as a purpling bruise on the moon. It's shadows wavered the edges and all in between. Observers without advanced technology would wonder why the moon Colossa, one day, began to bleed.

         Decitah scurried through the snowy bushes, flinging their little form at a tree to traverse higher ground. Hop, hop, hop!

Not too far away was someone else. Maybe it was a girl? It had been a very, very long time since a human had been seen in these parts.

The snow fell in a slow, surreal manner; it took it's time on the way to the ground.

         Very slowly, snow began to fall.

         /say Um, hello?

         The CU Trustworthy, part of the Colonial Expedition Forces, slowly travels toward this dark monolith.
It seems cautious, with several single-man fighters surrounding it, presumably guarding it from that which it could not see.
The crewmembers of the ship, numbering roughly 120, all feel a wave of uneasiness as they enter the space surrounding the place, but they've traveled too far to turn back now.
The captain, a solid fellow, sends a messenger down the narrow hallways of the gravity-less ship to tell the gunners to prepare the railguns and the counter-spin rockets, just in case. He also tells the forward director to arm every third man with the anti-boarding guns in case of a breach.
They continue forward, approaching the ring, and begin broadcasting a message.

"Greetings from the Colonial Union's Expeditionary Force. We would like to make our presence known, and extend an offer of peace and exchange of knowledge."

         Reginarus observed the whole situation silently, watching Livia as she raised the Argosian flag before returning to the shield wall where he was waiting. He looked over at Caesarius quietly, falling out of line with the other Argosians before dropping his crutch and slowly climbing back on to his horse, wincing slightly. He nodded down to the Legata before adjusting his mantle and snapping his fingers. One of the Argosians tossed a helmet to the centurion after he heard the snap, and as Reginarus caught his own helmet with one hand, he placed it on his head, closing the metal visor.

Then, just as before, the Argosian legion continued on their conquest, everyone getting ready first before marching forward together as one unit, with both the infantry and the cavalry marching in near perfect unison. It was a force to be reckoned with, an entire army outnumbering their Iskjerne Viking enemies over three to one as they approached Iskjerne Bay, this time with Livia's wolf-skinned mercenaries, a newly hired part of her auxiliary. About 100 of these berserkers-in-training were now subservient to Reginarus and the Argosian flag, as Livia held it high.

Reginarus was now second-in-command of the entire Argosian legion which accompanied them into the mountains. But the ulfhednar were no longer howling, as they led the Argosians silently through the rocks and crags like a pack of human hunting dogs. Ironically, the ulfhednar themselves were following a small pack of Iskjerne wolves that they had rescued and had been planning to domesticate, if they weren't so large and powerful. They were originally going to be lured into the Argosian enemy, but for whatever reason, the free-spirited wolves didn't attack. Instead, however, they started to gaze out over the mountains towards the horizon, caught another scent, and headed the other way, leading the Argosians and the Ulfhednar back to Iskjerne Bay.

         After a moment of inactivity in the otherwise seemingly still waters of Lake Vitality, the large Viking longship began to move. Large ramps slowly opened up on both sides of the longship, and from within the air-tight ports, two smaller vessels emerged. These karve-like silver convertiboats were much smaller in size, about 20 foot in length and shaped like silver almonds as they were released from the Stjornkona, drifting outward into the serene lake as if the larger longship had just given birth to two smaller oblong egg-like boats. As the convertiboats drifted ahead of the Stjornkona, the large ramps were retracted and shut like drawbridges against the sealed docking bay, pushing water outwards from the air-tight vacuum within like a giant aquatic whale exhaling spouts of water from its blowhole, or a mechanical shark through its massive gills. Such was the effort and technology of the Empyrean Norsemen, having worked for generations and generations to reach the stars while their own home planet Gaia was being destroyed by more primitive barbarian peoples that had been fighting and killing each other for decades, allowing the Empyrean Vikings to stay out of the limelight and advance far beyond other space-faring races.

The expedition to Senusret had been sanctioned by King Halfdan the Great for the purpose of exploration, star navigation, resource gathering, mapping, soil and water samples, weapons testing and new discoveries, all in the name of Empyrean Norse science, magic and alchemy. The small convertiboats began to push forward, moving side by side as they headed towards the open shore, while the captain of the Stjornkona and his two pilots took note of the other small ripple in the water roughly fifty feet away. By now, every Norsemen was familiar with the open seas, many of them having sailed back and forth across much larger and deeper waters back home. Most of them had already grown accustomed to whales, sea monsters and dragons, and many passengers on the Stjornkona had already been acquainted with Birger's maps and sketches, and his illustrious tales of Jarl Goffre and his crew's frightening encounters in Dracos Valley, something which every Nordic cosmonaut had been required to study before venturing into outer space. And while the Stjornkona had an entirely new and different crew from its twin sister ship the Stjornhestr, every vessel now had copies of Birger's journal and, coming well prepared for their journey across the galaxy, the Stjornkona's crew of 500 vikings felt like they had nothing to fear at this point in their journey.

The convertiboats drifted slowly ahead while the larger longship sat still in the middle of Lake Vitality, each one holding a small gang of 12 armed vikings who were already in the process of taking notes and studying this new foreign habitat on Dedelion as they approached the shore, well protected by the seemingly windowless two-sided silvery mirror casings and plate-like rooftops on each karve that allowed the gangs to have a 360° full view of everything around them, both above and below the water, so long as there was clear visibility to perceive everything. Although they could not see the bottom of the lake due to its sunless depths, as usual they did detect life forms in the water and determined that the planet's air was breathable by the sighting of small curious fish and scattered palm trees on the shallow beaches. The sealife was different from Gaia and the palms were shaped slightly different from the ones on the Empyrean Sea Beach, but they were not too dissimilar from home to the point of being unrecognizable, and even the climate and temperature itself seemed almost familiar to them as they approached the shore. Only once they reached the shallow waters did the bimini-like rooftops start to open and retract back, revealing the oarmen within the convertiboats as the vikings felt the fresh air and breathed the calming breeze for the first time.

         Roosiline watched as the shooting star aimed to land on the lake far beyond from where she gazed. Her heart stopped for a moment - strangers had landed on the planet. Strangers who had never visited here before, and with them strange energies.

The lake sent a whisper.

Roosiline grinned ear to ear. It seemed there were new Gods looking onto this place. She hoped they found the natural wonders here sufficient for their needs. Gods could not walk here, on Senusret, for the energy of the planet was too much like them. The last God who tried... well. The wild haired woman chucked to herself, thinking about talking fish.

Lake Vitality was a common favorite of many Gods, sending their greatest warriors and minds to be restored- if they survived the journey here. If a God wanted to appear on this planet without melting into it, they usually channeled themselves here. Most ordinarily in the form of a woman. Sometimes, a woman bearing a sword.

Lake Kroiter wasn't what it appeared to be, despite being crystal clear, and that's all Roosiline or any of the others of Senusret would care to say on the subject.

The lake sent another whisper. Roosiline turned on her heel and the beads in her hair clacked.
She had things to do, now.

         The Stjorndrekr drifted slowly through outer Space, entering the Fantasia Galaxy after traversing through millions and millions of light-years and light-miles of gas clouds and dark matter at the speed of cosmic sound, with some assistance from Gaian magic. This small but magnificent space-faring dragon ship was one of three twin vessels or sister ships. Whereas the Stjornhestr returned to Bastion IV, and the Stjornkona headed for Dedelion, the legendary Stjorndrekr had left the galaxy completely and the Empyrean Norsemen on board had just set a record for being the crew and passengers of the most distant Gaian Norse vessel in the universe. The reason why the Empyrean Norsemen had traveled so far, along with the Sjoalfar who accompanied them was still a mystery. But it had taken weeks, months, even a few years for the Stjorndrekr to arrive as it drifts quietly through the Fantasia Galaxy, undetectable by radio, satellite, computer, phone, radar, or most forms of communication as the Stjorndrekr had no electricity and gave off very little if any signature, being only 1/3rd the size of most other transport buses, enterprises and shuttle ships. Although the Stjorndrekr had its own on board built-in ecosystem, 13 escape shuttles and an arsenal of weapons and armour capable of engaging in intergalactic warfare with a crew of 500 or more Vikings, it resembled a classic sea-faring Viking longship, with a sci-fi/steampunk twist, being moderate or humble in size but decoratively elaborate in appearance as it descended towards the Talmora System, making no sound whatsoever as it continued its most linear trajectory to one of the furthest points in the local universe. The dragon-prowed longship gave off no light of its own, only reflecting the distant stars with its silver and gold manufacturing as it hovered quietly, sailing through Fantasia.

         The Stjornkona silently explores the local spur as it drifts through the Arm of Norma, coming from the Sirius star system deep within. The Stjornkona resembled a magical Viking ship as it made its way through the chain of stars, heading for Dedelion.

         The Stjornkona glides silently through the Sirius star system, passing the two bright suns and the dead star as it drifted slowly into deeper space, heading for Norma's Arm.

         The Stjornkona drifts aimlessly over the Empyrean High Seas, arriving from the beach and heading into deeper open waters, rocking and rolling against the massive heavy waves as it disappears over the vast distant watery horizon.

         A gust of wind kicked up the dust around the encampment.

         The trio of Oberon ships arrive in Masazula almost all at the same time, entering through a warp they opened. The trip was relatively short, and the damage caused on space-time by a warp for such a short distance was minimal, so the time-delay was short, only about a week in the Oberan calendar.

The three ships split apart from their formed together position, the largest, named the CU Reverent, staying in space while the other two branch off towards the two planets.

The ships are by no means as massive as those of the Aschen or ICON, but they are still a decent size, with the Reverent capable of holding about 200 crew members, and the two smaller ships, named CU Sandjumper and CU Crawler both lighter troop carriers capable of transporting about 10 to 20 people.

The two smaller ships begin the entry process, their crews strapping everything down in the zero-gravity as the troop carriers slowly jet their way towards the two planets.

         This facility, hidden under a mountain, was scarcely active outside of it's own perimeter.
Nothing really ever happened inside, either, except for the occasional clicking and muted beeping of various room-filling machines.

A young man sits behind a small monitor in a room, sitting there watching as the computer goes through a display of a 3-D sort of image, roughly made out of intersecting lines, when a red sphere starts to grow, quickly swelling to encompass the .
He sits there stunned for a moment.
He grabs a wired phone off of his desk, and shakily punches in a series of numbers. The phone rings three times, then responds.
"Sywell speaking. What is it?" a tired voice intones, as the tech sits there for a second, then stammering, speaks rapidly. "Uh, sir, this is Saturn-44 monitor tech zero-forty-four-fifty-nine-two-one-two-six, and I just detected a peak. What really makes it weird is that it's from this facility, and, uh, well, it looks like space has fallen dead around Klendath. Time isn't advancing around us. At all. Nothing is happening."
The voice on the other end of the phone is silent for a moment, then asks, "When was the last activity, just before the peak?"
The response is more hesitant, but still continues. "Well, uh, we get peaks all the time, as that's the only thing that we can perceive, but the machine has detected a specific lack of activity until now, as it can 'see' things that we can't. Uh, activity before was on Klendath, too. It says it was somewhere in the desert roughly... uh, roughly 1 MRT ago. I think it was the races."
"And what does that mean?"
"Well."
"What does it mean, zero-forty-four?"
"It means that Klendath could be alone. I mean, there's always a chance something could happen, but we can't know. This thing doesn't have pre-cognition, just incredibly fast responses, at least to us. It's... really hard to explain the implications, but this could be... well, this could be the last time that we perceive time."
"I don't get it."
"OK, look. Let's say that something happens with those new people, those coalition folk or something. The computer would detect activity in roughly that area, but not what it was or what it could mean. It just tells when an event happens, and the time that we don't perceive in between activities. I say time loosely, that's what MRT and DRT mean. I think the longest time we can even hazard a guess is a YRT. You know what that means, I'll move on. So, when the 'time' increases, the likelihood of an event happening decreases. That could be bad, as it could result in event death. There are hundreds of dead locales around the multiverse, including one incredibly close to us, which I don't think we've explored yet, but I would look into that. We don't want our locale to die, because when the likelihood of new activity comes, we could be forgotten. Slowly we would start to fade, and then eventually the Oberon empire would be... well. Nothing."
"Jesus. What can we do?"
"Pray that whatever makes these things happen stays on our side and continues activity. So I think we should start doing something. Something that could attract attention, and maybe gather whatever's left that isn't faded together. Oh, and put out more detection probes."
"Fuck. Well. Fuck. I guess we better start up the exploration program again. And maybe get your division funded. I'll start right now. Call me if anything pops up."
"Yes-"
The phone line goes dead. The monitor tech puts the phone back in its place, then gets up, walking through the entirely empty room, filled with cubicles occupied by none. He walks up a short stairwell onto a circle-shaped catwalk slightly elevated from the rest of the room, and turns on a monitor at it's center. "Here we go." The tech whispers to himself, as the CRT monitor turns on, so does a massive wall depicting the explored parts of space for the Oberon, depicting both the gray dead zones and the red active zones, few as they were.
The computer marks the most recent active zones, one of which was off the map. Somewhere in the Milky Way galaxy, and before that somewhere in the Andromeda galaxy, all dated around 2 MRT and 3 MRT, respectfully.
"Here goes nothing."