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[dragnar]

Ah well, thank you anyway. I suppose it's time I set out for the next planet. Farewell Luna.

Garthor travels to the nearest inter-planetary portal(we've made quite a few of those, haven't we?) and steps through, arriving on Natus.

[Acanthus117]

Rourke had been flying through the Void for quite some time. The initial thrill had worn off long ago, and now all the Marine wanted was for the whole thing to be over. The Fury seemed to understand his unease, and cackled wildly.

A mumbled "Shut up" was all that Rourke could manage, as he was beginning to feel quite... voidsick, if that was possible. Then, out of the darkness of the void, Rourke managed to see a faint light. After a few moments, it seemed that he was approaching what appeared to be a dimly glowing star, with a ring around it.

Rourke had to resist humming the Halo theme as he saw the ring. The Fury swept down, approaching the ring. In a few moments, Edward could feel warmth once more. He saw fields and forests stretched below him like a map, with strange transparent mountains rising up in gentle slopes. The bird-creature slowly descended, the draft warming Rourke's body.

Suddenly, the Fury let him go, sending the Marine careening from the sky. He landed with a thump. Groaning, he looked around him and saw a young girl reclining not too far from him, garbed in... armor? She looked quite surprised at the Corporal's sudden appearance.

"Aww, shit. Hey, you know if this place is Aether?" The man stood up, rubbing his back.

[Caesar]

She pulled her sword on him, raising it to the height of his throat. She looked untrusting, cautious. A few seconds later she lowered the sword again, staring at the ground for a moment. She nodded, avoiding further eye-contact with the man.

You are on Aether.

Luna's Domain.

Her mind did its best to process what she saw: Of all mortal beings she had beheld, of all Gods she had seen, this man was clothed as one of the strangest. She recognized a belt, a shirt, and pants, but the fabric seemed strange to her.

She felt drawn to it. With her free hand, she slided her hand down his sleeve, then pulling it back again. She looked up.

What is your name?

[Acanthus117]

"Corporal Ed Rourke, United States Marine Corps." He rubs his neck again, groaning. Squinting in the dark, he saw... a shadowy silhouette standing right behind the strange girl. A bundle lay in its arms. For an unknown reason, its presence frightened the indoctrinated soldier

"Shit!" He drew his sidearm, lining up the sights to where its brain would be. Before he could even pull the trigger, he feels like he's socked in the stomach, and is sent flying. Rourke landed a few metres from the group, holding his stomach in agony.

"Shit..." He struggled to his feet, keeping the pistol aimed above Poena's shoulder, right at the thing's brain.

Phaedron stood at attention beside his Mistress. It does not say anything, simply makes a "hmph" and croons quietly to Poena's brother.

"Shall I dispose of him? He is a threat, Mistress."

[Caesar]

She raised her sword again, noticing the mixed emotions on the man's face. Ertanon shone a dim red, and she gritted her teeth, before screaming at him.

You dare threaten my brother?!

You dare even looking in his direction like that?

Out of a sudden, Poena calms down. She was doing it the wrong way, and she knew it. Her next words sounded alarmingly friendly..

Provoking Phaedron would be provoking me. I trust Phaedron.

Do you want me to get angry with you?

Her voice changed to a malicious whisper, and she presses the sword lightly at his throat. The sword sends a biting pain into Rourke, burning his skin, her eyes glow red on a background of darkening and almost starless space.

One wrong movement, one more threat to my brother, and I will personally tear you apart, and then damn you into an eternal pain.


With a firm turn around her axis, she removed the sword from his throat, walking over to Phaedron. She sheathed her sword, tenderly stroking her brother over his head. Nobody would hurt him- Nobody.

[Digital Hellhound]

The Fury circled around above, cackling madly at what was happening. The Protector had told it to make sure the human stayed alive, but it was not it's fault the human was so foolish. It did not paln on staying there for long. Hunger was already pulling it back. And yet, this world seemed to be full of life.
It had never been outside the Refuge before. These creatures looked much tastier than the carcasses it would get back at the Refuge.
Letting out another burst of laughter, it began scanning the landscape for something to eat.

[Acanthus117]

Internally, the Marine cursed. Externally, he tried his best to stay calm, remembering his lengthy training. Even so, he felt... something different about the two. It seemed like they were... the man couldn't explain it. They just felt odd to Rourke. The shadow-thing placed the bundle in the girl's arms, and strode forwards.

"Who are you? Where did you come from? What do you want?" The shadowman- Phaedron, the girl called it- spoke quickly and calmly.

"Shit, I don't know." He lowered his pistol, not wanting to piss off the girl again. The shadowman simply sighs, and raised its hand. It seemed to lengthen, and a sword, black as night, was in Phaedron's hands.

"You are useless now. Prepare yourself." Rourke closed his eyes, waiting for this weird-as-hell joyride to be over, but the blow never came. He opened his eyes again, and saw a cloaked figure standing in between the Corporal and Phaedron.

"WHY DO YOU TRY TO HARM MY SERVANT, PHAEDRON? COULD YOU NOT SEE THAT HE IS ANOTHER OF MY VASSALS, A COMRADE TO YOU? The thing's voice seemed to resound with Rourke's very soul, chilling the man to the bone. It wasn't the voice he had heard a while ago, he knew, but something else. That other voice, it resounded with power and authority with ease, unlike this one. Its voice boomed because it was trying to give off an illusion to greatness, the Marine realized.

"My lord, I did not know. He was threatening my mistress. I did what you instructed me to do. I was simply protecting her and her brother." The shade did not fall to its knees, or weep and moan in front of its apparent master. It simply stood straight up, and faced its head straight at the mysterious figure's face.

"HE IS ANOTHER OF MY SERVANTS. HARM HIM AGAIN, AND I WILL BE MOST DISPLEASED." The figure turned, and seemingly vanished from the face of the ringworld.

"So... It seems that we are comrades." Phaedron turned and looked at Rourke. He simply grunted, brushed himself off, and holstered his pistol.

[Caesar]

Poena was oblivious to her surroundings. She hummed softly, weeping winds vaguely accompanying the distorted rhythm that slowly  ebbed out of her throat.

She was holding her brother again- A key to calm, a key to rest. Holding him close to her, she began walking, leaving not only her retinue, but the strangely clothed man behind her. She walked slowly, almost sluggish. The wind accompanied her, gently playing with leaves and branches, dust, blowing over the crystalline landscape.

She had to grow, become stronger. She had a duty, to her brother.

[Acanthus117]

Phaedron leaves Rourke and finds his place behind his mistress, crooning that strange song once more. Seemingly nonplussed, Rourke walks a few meters away from them, keeping the three of them in his sights.

He thinks, hoping to reach the strange presence he had communicated before. He doesn't know if it'll work, but he has to try.

Hey, boss, I'm there. What now?

[Caesar]

Rourke's vision blurred, and his surroundings seemed to darken. Neither Poena, nor Phaedron noticed it.


You have met my daughter.

Intriguing, she is. I like the temperament.

The Gods might tell you that they are my children, and I want them to keep believing that, for now. You, on the other hand, must know that they are not.

I do not only want you to protect my daughter, but my son as well.


Rourke heard a sigh. Not just any sigh, but tired wind, exhausted crystal, impatient plants: The universe itself seemed to breathe for a moment.

I will not try to rhetoric right now. Rather, I want you to learn more about the universe. Phaedron just might help you, if you help Poena.

Do not anger her, her wrath burns.

[Acanthus117]

Sure thing, boss man. Rourke pauses for a moment. Hey, if it's not too much to ask, do you think you could... Hoping that he can transmit images, the image of his M4 Carbine appears in his head. If you want me to protect the girl, I'd need to be packing some heat. Some ammo wouldn't be out of place as well.

[Caesar]

Rourke's senses return to normal, everything looking as it should look. At his feet lies a weapon crate, closed.



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Poena turned to Phaedron, giving him a puzzled look. She remains quiet, her arms still clutching her brother to her chest.

[Digital Hellhound]

The Fury had found it's target. A lone, humanoid creature, probably hunting. While this creature seemed powerful physically and skilled, it was the first one the Fury had found, and it was hungry.
The Orc hunter was good. He had already seen the predator, and thought that gave him an edge in this battle.
The Fury swept down towards the Orc, sending the poor being flying on impact. Razor-sharp claws sank deep into the Orc's body and snapped closed. Despite the pain, the Orc was already raising it's spear.
He was not fast enough. The claws ripped open the hunter's throat, the cackling Fury ignoring his efforts to defend himself. Shards of bone and shredded flesh filled the air.
Even before the Orc was dead, the Fury had already begun dining.

Almost too easy. The Fury was slowly beginning to realize it enjoyed hunting and killing. The hunter had gone down too quickly. Hunting should be more challenging.
There were villages nearby, full of other creatures. They would have to do.

[Acanthus117]

Rourke bent over, and pried open the crate. Inside was an a single M4A1 Carbine. It was equipped with an Trijicon ACOG scope and a grip, not to mention the under slung grenade launcher, which made Ed grin like a kid on Christmas morning.

 The rifle seemed to be straight off the production line. Rourke inspected it, and found something odd. There was no manufacturing mark, or a serial number. He put the rifle down, seeing that there was still plenty more things under the weapon.

 Underneath it, Edward could see that there were plenty magazines for both the rifle and his USP. He eagerly slipped the rifle onto his back, and began to stuff magazines in the many loops and pockets his webbing gave him. He found that the combined weight of the ammunition and the rifle did not slow him in the least, and this fact did not bother him even though he knew he should've felt... something. He simply cracked his neck, grinned, and sifted through the crate.

Aside from the M4A1 and ammunition, Rourke found a backpack, Army issue, filled with MREs and a maintenance kit for his weapons. He grinned as he sifted through it, finding more and more things that puzzled and delighted the man. It seemed that his boss, whoever he or she was, knew a lot more about Rourke than he knew. A small bottle of whiskey, surreptitiously hiding behind a field manual, had even been included in the kit. Rourke loved whiskey, and was quite glad for it.

When he was finished, the man hefted his backpack, and strode towards his boss's daughter and Phaedron.

Hey, Bossman, thanks for the supplies. I guess I'll just... stay here with her. He paused. Boss, you said that there were other gods, right? Does this mean that I gotta worship 'em or something? There's no way I'm gonna start wakin' up early on Sundays again. Oh, and what do I tell Phaedron and your daughter about all this shit? I can't just go up and say "You'd never believe what I found under this rock, man!"

<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>

Phaedron sighed again and looked at his mistress. She seemed so tired, so anxious about the future. She clung onto her brother as if danger lurked around every corner and under every bush. The shade could not blame her. He was her only kin, and both of them only had each other. The shade's heart, or what was left of it, ached to see such a young one having to bear such weight upon her shoulders.

The shade wished that it could do something, anything to help her. It found, with much despair, the only way it could truly help was to train her, to arm her with magic, so that she might forge her own path in the world.

It took a step towards her and bowed slightly.

"Mistress Poena... I think we should stay here for a while. You seem tired. If you desire, I would like to begin your training after you sleep. I will find you and your brother sustenance, if you wish."

<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>

The Reaver cackled as it siphoned the soul of yet another unfortunate Feral from its cooling corpse. It had grown fat on all this fear floating about, and was ready for a real challenge. It found itself drawn once more to the ringworld Aether, and decided that it needed a real challenge. It sunk into the shadow cast by a giant's corpse, and swum through a sea of darkness, reappearing in the twilit groves of the Ringworld. It scampered off into the shadows, seeking prey.

It cried out to the twilit skies, cackling like some monster out of a nightmare. It bounded and leaped, crossing rivers in a single stride and scaling tall trees with ease. Full of vigor and malicious intent, the Reaver sought out worthy prey.

<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>

In the cold void of space, the twisted Scholar arrived at the gate. When Astra'ath had touched the mind of the being, its very voice had enlightened it, had expanded its already vast volumes of knowledge with a single word. The Scholar's soul had cried out in ecstasy moments before it had been burned away, leaving the debased creature that twitched towards the Gate.

The Scholar screeched, flailing its tentacles and firing spell after spell at the enchantments that barred the thing access. After an hour of constant spellcasting, something most Scholars could not do, not even the greatest of them, the thing's lengthy repertoire began to diminish. But then, in its alien mind, it remembered a spell, one that it had earned for a song from a dying warlock. It crooned as the last vestiges of energy welled within it, and with one last terrible cry, it consumed its own body to fuel the spell.

The great chains that bound the Gate snapped, and the hole in the Foundation opened once more. The cold winds of Outside blew into reality. The twisted soul of the Scholar, driven insane by its zeal, thought of nothing but finding its master, telling it that the Path was Open. It cried out to the universe, hoping to reach its master in a tongue it knew only the most ancient of beings would know.

"Master! The Gate is Open!"

[forsaken1111]

The Eye of Terror is a thing grounded in physics, controlled by a vast alien intelligence with the power of a god. It is not a true eye, but does resemble one when viewed end-on due to the vast corona of gasses, gravitic distortions, and twisting space/time fluctuations spreading out from the polar axis of the former planet. It sits, absolutely motionless, with regards to all other matter in the universe, bound to the very foundation of reality by a singular point of inverted matter at its heart.

And suddenly, it turns.

No warning, no buildup, the entire region of space simply twists about and the eye is facing a new direction.

The soft red glow within the compacted obsidian surface begins to pulse, stoking to new heights. Crimson light lances across the cosmos, coming to rest on the Gate of Chains, now active and open. It could smell the outside, taste the elder winds that blow between universes. So familiar... so compelling.

The Eye begins to move, riding spatial distortions and leaving a turbulent region of space behind it which stabilizes after a few days. It is not hard to track, nor is its destination difficult to predict. It is heading for the Gate of Chains, and dragging every orbital body along with it... Moons, stations, Starspawn ships.

The Starspawn armada, led by Entropy, also changes course. It will join the Eye in just a few hours. Sothurn stands upon Entropy's deck, directing the armada and awaiting his next chance to unleash his Fury.

Ethereal tendrils of thought reach out, embracing the mind of the Scholar.

You serve us well

Now go to your kin

Bring them our Truth

All Glory to Astra'ath

The scholar squeals in ecstasy, spinning about in sheer joy before swimming off through space to find those of its family. It must share with them the joy that is Astra'ath.