Set adrift amidst the stars, a lonely vessel drifts without a destination. Its pitch black hull dotted with small, white lights to imitate distant stars had kept it unmolested until now. A searing, weighty light flared inside the circular ship, heralding the arrival of six beings of immense power. Before any of the other five could speak, a deep, throaty voice echoed around the hall.
“Interesting, indeed. Alright, the records start now.” said the opulently robed half-dragon, setting his enchanted quill to work transcribing the meeting upon an open tome.
“All those present, state your names and right to representation in clockwise order, starting on my left.” The quill not only transcribed his words, it split into a second and began drawing their surroundings from the half-dragon’s perspective.
To his left, the constantly shifting being spoke. The voice that came out sounded as if a thousand different creatures cried out at once, yet was still intelligible. “Freedom Incarnate, Avatar of Tiamat.”
A flex of muscle beneath chitinous plates revealed a powerful tail, a nasty stinger dripping acidic poison as the second introduced herself. “Serket, Goddess of Venomous Healing.” The tail flexed once more, whipping away to reveal a woman with burnished bronze skin, a massive bulbous pincer at the end of her right hand and scorpion atop her head.
The third voice to speak up was a deep rumble of bass, shaking unsecured vials upon tables behind its source. “Barkorum the Unbroken, nearly forgotten war god.” The speaker had the characteristics of a bipedal ankylosaur, ruddy brown hide all the way to the club at the end of his tail. The perpetual scowl on his face was turned to the next in the small circle, a thick and meaty digit scratching behind his thick head scales.
The fourth voice was less than cooperative, a seraphim in silver-trimmed bronze armor. “We do not need dally with such trivial matters, Dursia Dragoo. Take your notes, that is why I asked you along, but such grandstanding is unimportant.”
Dursia nodded slowly, “I understand your point, but for the sake of those not in attendance, this is the most expedient way. Please, just humor me.”
A great, resigned sigh left the lips of the platinum haired Seraphim. “Apocalium, representative of Law.”
Wasting no time, the next in line spoke. “Grahkkh, Saint of Odin and representative of Magic.” It was difficult to make any judgements about Grahkkh’s appearance, mostly due to his entire body being covered in tremendous runed armor, leaving only a single hole open for his right eye.
“And for the last, I am Dursia Dragoo. I represent Knowledge.” He finished his notes with a flourish, the quill and tome floating from his grip. The quill poised itself before the paper, the duo floating along behind him. He wander towards the wall of the circular ship, where twelve clear tanks filled with an opaque, green fluid were held.
“Interesting…I wonder what Vi..” he was promptly cut-off by Apocalium’s hiss of displeasure.
“Do not speak the name of the First Usurper. That witch deserves to be purged from the annals of reality, name included.” Apocalium’s voice trembled with barely repressed anger as he stared around the ship. “We should purge this place now, the putrefaction is oppressive.”
The other five glanced at each other, Freedom Incarnate simply shrugging as its chorused voice issued a simple. “Only you seem to be bothered, seraphim. Calm yourself or you shall be made calm.”
There came a quick shuffling as the three gods interposed themselves between the representatives of Law and Chaos. Dursia coughed quietly, “Let us see what the…witch has been working on, then we’ll see what to do with this lab afterwards. Destroying it before knowing what she was working on might be a little too preemptive.”
A whispered spell came from his lips, his eyes glowing green. “Magical sight does not reveal much about these tanks. I definitely feel magic, but I cannot make out anything inside of it. At the very least, it does not seem to feel sinister.”
Grahkkh spoke quietly, his voice muffled due his covered face. “There are bodies inside of these tanks, each of them have a nearly identical power source integrated into their innards. That power feels quite sinister. Perhaps Lord Apocalium was correct in that we should purge this laboratory sooner rather than later…”
“Nonsense, that serves no true purpose other than to remove evidence and clues to her future whereabouts before we’ve the chance to learn more. Perhaps we should spread out and look. The ship itself is a mobile lab, everything is in this one room. Shouldn’t take us long.” Dursia removed a pair of spectacles from his robes, placing them on his draconic snout.
Freedom Incarnate scowled, “Do not presume to tell me what to do, dragonkin. I’ll do as I please, and what pleases me at this moment just so happens to be this thirteenth tank.” An amused chuckle from a thousand voices was abruptly cut off as Dursia flashed past, eyes locked onto the computer console attached to the tank.
“Excellent job. I’ll piece together the information on the terminal, knowing V…the witch’s reputation, she’s certainly left a detailed report on her actions.” Dursia was excited, claws digits clacking away at the console.
A high pitched, strained squawk of a voice resounded through the ship after Dursia opened a file. “Meow Corp. Commissionary Project, Voice Log One. Alas, it seems I must stoop down to the level of redundant mercenary work to get the necessary funding and materials for my true project. Though the effort to get my hands on the radioactive endurium would far outweigh doing this simple job, I’m loathe to do anything for those silvery xenophobes. Either way, the fools unknowingly delivered a special piece to me that I haven’t seen before. An actual scale of the Ouroborous, child of the Dark God Sjach! Such prosperity and they handed it over to me so that it could act as a simple power source for their children’s game!” A picture of a void dark scale sat on a workbench, appearing like a hole on the table’s surface. “Oh, I’ll give them a game to remember. Xian scum think they’re so much better than anyone, when they went and bred out the only useful trait they could have had!” The voice log ended, Dursia clacking away to find the next file.
Serket spoke, her voice little more than a whisper. “A scale from the Ouroboros…I’m not sure how the Xians could have possibly gotten their grubby little hands on one, any fragments were supposed to be secured after its last incursion into occupied space.
Barkorum merely grunted, eyes locked on the tank. The tank was filled with a clear, blue liquid that bubbled with more viscosity than simple water. As a result, what seemed to be a featureless humanoid child was floating inside, curled in on itself. “Fragment of that scale here, as well.”
“Meow Corp. Commissionary Project, Voice Log Two. The scale has been cut and fused together, runes etched upon its surface. The excessive material has been set aside as a little surprise for my would be employers. It should prove to be an excellent distraction while I plunder their information and resources over the next few decades. If I’m lucky, I’ll get an entire century out of them before they catch on. The twelve requested vessels will be implanted with a portion of this lemniscate. Fitting, considering the source. And infinitely amusing for me, the only one in this situation that matters!” Her cackling continued for a few moments before the log abruptly ended mid laugh.
“So each of those twelve have a part of the scale. Hardly enough to warrant any real action over, wouldn’t you agree?” Freedom Incarnate’s voices echoed from everywhere and nowhere, “Even if completed, the scale isn’t truly an issue unless it were to be used inappropriately.”
“You mean like carving it up and implanting it into twelve different vessels to be delivered to the Xians on a silver platter for their experiments?” Apocalium retorted, annoyance clear in his voice.
“Thirteen, actually.” Barkorum interrupted, pointing at the tank in front of them with a meaty digit.
“Meow Corp. Commissionary Project, Voice Log Three. It seems that my planned surprise is not working out as planned. The first twelve were simple, empty vessels for remote conscious implantation. Simple work, grow a body and fuse the fragment. This one, however, is a personal project. Codenamed Sorrow, this thirteenth toy should tarnish the perfection those Xians so dearly chase. But I’ve run into some issues. Due to Sorrow’s genetic instability, I’ve failed to create this creature about three dozen times at this point. Materials have been recycled, but something’s still missing. Adrenal glands are causing me the most problems, due to their need to be larger. However, increasing those glands puts the body into an emergency shutdown after stress testing ends. I’ll simply have to take a page from the books of those divine morons and their Saints.”
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Dursia’s clawed index finger scratching along his snout as he spoke, “I don’t understand why the adrenal glands need to be enlarged in the first place? Why not use the most boring of templates, a human, as the base for this model? One of the twelve behind us is a human.”
“Meow Corp. Commissionary Project. Voice Log Four. I’ve done it! I’ve implanted this final body with an artificial soul. For all intents and purposes, it is no different than a true soul. It’s been programmed to wreak tremendous chaos upon those xenophobic sonsa…” The log ended, much sooner than the rest.
None in the room spoke about the artificial soul, though all save Dursia looked worried about the information.
“Meow Corp. Commissionary Project. Final Log. Unfortunately, even with the soul, this body is too heavily dependent on fuel. All simulations result in it being left as little more than a husk in less than a day’s time. And since I received word that a few nosy…” An image appeared of a crude drawing of Apocalium shouting expletives as a female raptor runs laughing, resulting in said seraphim bristling with renewed anger. “Interlopers were on the way, I’ve got to ditch this idea. Twelve pods are scheduled for launch in three hours; they'll make their way towards Maoix Corp’s designated coordinates. I’ll be an overgrown chicken if I let that angel get in the way of my payment.”
Dursia sighed, leaning his head back against his shoulders. “That last log was recorded an hour ago, and she left the drawing.” He points a claw to the far side of the desk, which promptly began to smoke as radiant energy torched the picture.
Serket, looking over Dursia’s shoulder now, hummed in amusement. “That witch actually managed to create a variant of a…well, I won’t speak it aloud, sorry Dursia. That is information that you are not allowed to have, as a mortal. However, this brings up quite an interesting idea. What say we take over the witch’s project and release this upon the Xians?”
Apocalium sputtered and coughed, shaking a fist towards Serket. “I’d never allow such an action. That creature is an abomination and should be promptly destroyed! Not to mention the fact that all thirteen of these shells all have pieces of the Ouroboros, this shouldn’t even be a discussion!”
Serket’s venomous gaze fell upon the seraphim, a sweet smile on her face. “And pray tell, Apocalium, how do you plan to stop me? Of our collection, only Barkorum and myself are true divines. Yet he’s so forgotten, most of his powers are gone. Another few centuries and he might simply cease to exist. No offense, Barkorum.”
The answering grunt from the Ankylo-god made clear his care on the matter. “None taken. It’s been too long as it is. I’ve been thinking of passing on anyways. There’s not a mortal alive that gives me worship and that won’t change. So maybe…” He stared at the pod, smiling ruefully.
Grahkkh’s armored hand interposed itself between Barkorum and the tank. “I must agree with Apocalium. It’s foolishness to believe that this creature would be useful to us. Look at these specifications. It’s meant to cannibalize the other twelve to become complete, and the scale will be whole. The devastation that this homunculus could bring down upon civilized space is unprecedented. It would be the height of foolishness to allow it loose.”
The four bickered back and forth, Dursia checking the tome to make certain the notes were being kept. Until an ear piercing chorus shattered the conversation. “Let us vote on the outcome, otherwise my time will continue to be wasted. I do not truly care either way, I wish to be done with this entire mess.” Freedom Incarnate’s patience was nearly exhausted, a dangerous scenario for everyone on board.
Dursia spoke up, “We already know how the votes are swaying, no need to speak them allowed. However, with two for, two against, and one abstaining…then it falls upon me to make the final vote.” He strode up to the tank, arms behind his back. “I vote we let it loose, however…” He said, cutting off any divine outrage. “With some control measures in place. Check and limiters on its power until it reaches a certain level of self-awareness.”
Serket wasted no time, breaking the glass tank and snatching the creature before it could come to injury. “A blessing for you, dear child.” She pressed her lips to the infant’s forehead, light shining bright. “I bestow the power to heal. But as with everything, there is a cost. To heal another, you must take from their reserves.” A bright chain began to appear, originating from the heart of the infant and winding itself down the right leg. “And your trial. To experience deep sorrow, and crawl your way back towards joy.”
She passed the child to the right, frowning slightly as the shifting hands took the child. “When did you…nevermind.” She gave up, stepping away from the procession.
“Ahh…child. A life of freedom, yet bound in chains of the heart. I give you my blessing.” A flickering finger pressed onto the sternum of the infant. “You shall appear as you like, whenever you shall need. However, your trial is far worse than the first.” A second chain snaked out from the heart, wrapping towards the other leg. “You will be betrayed in a way most foul, yet must rise above it to find your inner harmony. Best of luck…” The chorus of voices began to giggle in madness before Freedom Incarnate simply vanished from the ship.
Diving forward, Dursia caught the infant with a sigh of relief. “Close call…now then. You next, Apocalium.” Dursia held the child out towards the reluctant seraphim, who picked up the child as if it were a soiled rag.
“Yes, yes. A gift and a trial, then we can jettison these abominations into Xian space and let them deal with the ramifications of your collective foolishness.” Light glowed from his hands, his teeth clenched. “I gift you with clarity, so that when you are unsure of what to do, you will be decisive in your actions.” The third chain appeared, snaking from the infant’s heart and around her neck. “A third trial of growth, revenge will weigh heavily upon you and you must learn to forgive those that have wronged you.”
The seraphim unceremoniously tossed the infant towards Grahkkh, who caught the child with tender grace belying his bulky form. “My gift for you will be great, yet I shall not reveal its nature. You must discover it on your own, little child.” The fourth chain snaked from its heart, wrapping around its right arm to the wrist. “Frustration shall be your test, and only acceptance will set you free.”
Barkorum moved forward, taking the child from Grahkkh’s arms. “And so I stand here, the last of your benefactors. Though my name may have been forgotten, my spirit shall persevere through you child. I gift you twofold, with a task as dire as the previous.”
Ominous light the color of dried blood began to pulse around Barkorum and the infant, a beating of drums sounding. The stomping feet of a marching warband echoed across the small laboratory ship, his tail slapping the hard tiled floor. “I gift you a body that will grow as you fight, the limits will only be defined by your drive to continue.” The aura and raucous symphony of war grew in volume, causing the remaining four to reflexively take steps back. “Your trial is the test of rage, for you will harbor great anger. You must learn tranquility, for it will make you strong.” The fifth chain snaked out from the infant’s chest, wrapping around the left arm to the wrist.
An impossible breeze filled the ship, the bloodied aura began to seep into the infant. The roar of war funneled itself into the child, Barkorum’s form began to fade. “My final gift, one that will protect you until your final days. I gift you my divine Ascendency, so that you may take your place as a god of war when such a time comes. It’s a shame you’ll not remember any of this…”
The ankylosaurian passed the child to Dursia, his form beginning to disperse like smoke in the wind. “I’ve had my fun, seen all I care to. Best of luck to you all when the time for war arrives, I’m sure the Fallen One will get a surprise.”
Dursia watched as the final wisps of the forgotten god blew away, the soul headed for the afterlife. “I suppose I should give the child a gift as well, though I’m not quite sure what. Perhaps my own personal guide to the inner workings of magic? No, certainly not. Far too complicated for an infantile wargod. A shame you aren’t a dragon…speaking of a dragon, I just might know what to give you.” He drew a rune in the air with a claw, dragging it down to the infant’s head. “A beacon only dragons may see, should you encounter them they shall know you are blessed by one of us. Might not come in handy, since you’ll be in Xian space. But you never know.”
He busied himself with the computer, still holding the child, gaining the coordinates that the other pods were set to be delivered. “Interesting…they’re going into an Xian Mian’tor. And this particular one, I’m familiar with because there just so happens to be an old acquaintance there. I hope the old man is still alive.” He turned and looked to the three remaining beings, “Well, let’s get this one loaded into the spare pod and jettison it off. I have the data I came for, so once they’re away…” his voice trailed off, pointedly looking at Apocalium.
“Then I can purge this filth, yes,” said the seraphim, a delighted smile on his face.
Sometime later, twelve pods were seen flying through space with a thirteenth following some ways away. “I hope the Xians are ready for some excitement, perhaps the child will distract them for some time,” muttered the half-dragon, going through his collection of Viola’s research in the privacy of his own study. “At least she left me some fascinating research to sift through, might even be useful if I remove some of the less savory requirements…”