[Voyager]
I was standing in front of the wooden door, with the mysterious wood-grain pattern swirling enticingly, when I, unconsciously or by some other force, stepped forward and placed my hand on the knocker.
Before I realised what I was doing, I had already knocked on the door.
The empty silence of the dunes was shattered with a low thud that reverberated in my head, as my vision blurred. I struggled to maintain my consciousness, before collapsing forwards. The last thing I saw was the door opening, like the gaping maw of some gargantuan beast.
*****
[Admiral]
Location: #P786D7G4S831
The Admiral strode forward with purpose, the blinking emergency lights highlighting his steely gaze. Lady Ossilia glance briefly at the destruction in that corridor, before continuing onwards with silent footsteps.
The darkness seemed to crawl and move with life, as light and shadow collided in an unseen battle. Before long, the Admiral stopped suddenly. He breathed out, expelling white vapour from his mouth. The walls too were covered in a layer of frost, the crystalline patterns of ice refracting what little light there was, creating a subtle glimmer.
Lady Ossilia spoke from behind her mask, "He's here. I can sense his presence, but it seemed muffled, like its hidden behind some sort of veil."
Just a couple of metres from where they were, the corridor opened up into an atrium of sorts. It was octagonal, about thirty metres in diameter, with a corridor joining at each side of the room. The ceiling was domed, but the impenetrable darkness obscured the structure itself. Occasional flashes of light from exposed wiring were the only light source in that room.
With a mental command, the Admiral sent forward the hounds to investigate: their sense of smell far exceeded any technology invented.
Just as they had moved less than ten metres into the room, a piercing cackle resounded, echoing indefinitely off the walls.
It seemed to dig through his ears, into his brain, like a mechanical drill. Reacting quickly, Ossilia snapped her fingers and the sharp crack seemed to return the Admiral to his senses.
Shaking his head to clear any unnecessary thoughts, the Admiral nodded slightly at Ossilia, before speaking into the dark room, "What's your goal, inmate #254? You know you can never make it off this planet".
That same cackle rang once more, but the Admiral had long since been on guard and it was no longer effective.
"You know what my mother told me: never say never! Or was it always say forever? Hmm, I can never remember...or maybe I can always remember!", the voice giggled insanely.
It continued to mumble incoherently, occasionally laughing or crying, creating a disturbing atmosphere in that darkness.
Ossilia's voice sounded inside the Admiral's voice, taking advantage of the brief respite, "You know what to do. Distract him and I'll handle the rest". Her voice was terse, none of her previous playfulness present, as though she were a completely different person.
The Admiral acknowledged her silently and spoke once again into the darkness, "Inmate #254-
"I think we're past formalities don't you, Captain? You can call me Syn", the voice interrupted.
"Very well, Archbishop Syn. Why don't you tell whatever it was that was so urgent you felt the need to create all this commotion. Command Centre will no longer be so lenient on you, even in exchange for the information on the Chaos Order.", the Admiral said deeply.
The voice tsked, "Come on, Captain, can't I just have a nice little chat with an old friend, eh? It's so boring in here; the only things to talk to are the guards and they're no fun".
The Admiral remained silent, his gaze constantly surveying the darkness. 'I still cannot sense his exact location', he thought, 'and the link with the hounds is all but severed.'
"I can see you've grown up since I last saw you, Captain. The little ones sure grow up fast don't they", the voice sighed with trace of nostalgia.
Just as the voice stopped talking, Ossilia moved her arm at lightning fast speed and launched a projectile into the opposite facing tunnel of the atrium. A silver blur was all that could be seen before it was swallowed by the darkness.
The voice seemed to speak disapprovingly, "Now, now, it's quite rude to interrupt your elders like that. I think you ought to be punished".
As he spoke that final word, a chill descended in the air as Ossilia froze, as though she were stuck in viscous treacle. Veins popped on her hands as she clenched them with all her strength and just as she made a fist, a ripple of power was released and she was freed from her confinement.
At a speed too fast for the eye to see, she reached behind her back and drew two short swords from a hidden sheath. They were triangular in shape and double edged: suitable both for stabbing and slashing. Their blades were a misty grey, and there was a shield-shaped rain guard just above its hilt.
She leaped forward, leaving after images as she dashed into the dark atrium. As she moved, a red fog rippled from her arms and flowed almost visibly into her eyes, dying her irises a vivid crimson that almost seemed to glow in the blackness of the room.
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Her gaze penetrated through the curtain of dark and seemed to lock on to an indistinct figure standing in a far corner of the atrium.
Despite being several metres away still, she took a step forward and slashed the dagger in her right hand in the figure's direction. As the reached the apex of her swing, the blade detached from the hilt unexpectedly and flew without warning, embedding itself deep into the neck of the figure.
Regardless of her apparent victory, Ossilia's senses screamed at her that the danger had not abated in the slightest. Soon, the indistinct figure that had been pinned into the wall dissolved into nothingness, returning to the shadows like ice in warm water.
"You won't catch me that easily, witch!", the voice taunted, echoing from all directions.
Reacting quickly, Ossilia flicked her wrist, returning the blade of the dagger to its rightful place, and began condensing that red fog once again.
This time, it coated her arms like a garment, giving her sleeves an ethereal, but deadly, feel. An invisible pressure permeated the room as the colour deepened until it was almost too bright to look at.
Suddenly, Ossilia swept her arms outwards and a crimson wave flooded the room in all directions. A figure was outlined, standing with a lazy expression in the centre of the room, the wave parting around him like as though it hit some sort of invisible barrier.
His features were still indistinct, yet a mocking smile could be seen hanging off his lips. As if expecting this, he shook his head in mock dismay, "You're quite inexperienced for an infamous Crimson Guard, aren't you? Their standards really have fallen."
As he was speaking, invisible strings whipped from all directions at Ossilia, binding her arms before she had a chance to channel her energy. She struggled futilely but the strings seemed almost unbreakable, contrary to their feeble appearance.
As the red fog dispersed harmlessly, the figure slowly receded back into the shadows. Just as he was about to disappear, the Admiral, having waited for the most opportune moment, raised his hands imposingly.
A dusty heat descended on the atrium, carrying with it the smell of a boiling desert. The translucent ice that had previously coated the room melted into water that quickly evaporated as the temperature rose. From behind the Admiral, a swirling storm of dust came into view, as the wind picked up.
A single, dust-coloured foot was extended from that swirling sandstorm. The creature's feet were tipped with razor sharp claws that gleamed with the promise of destruction. As it strode forward, its head revealed itself, with a noble expression of fury in its dark eyes. Soon its appearance could be seen fully, and the sandy whirlpool scattered to nothingness.
As soon as the wolf appeared, a godly aura enveloped the room. The wolf was several metres tall, towering over the figure of the Admiral in front. It bared its fangs aggressively at an apparently empty spot of shadow, as though it could see the figure hidden inside.
"Kyrnos, last I remember, you were still licking your wounds from the Vanishing", the voice drawled, as though unafraid of the monstrous beast before him.
The wolf spoke in a deep baritone, "You seem to forget your place, pawn of the Corrupted Ones. Let me remind you how you were locked in here, to rot away for eternity."
Without waiting for the Archbishop to respond, Kyrnos stepped into the atrium and released a wave of invisible pressure.
Shackles descended on the Archbishop, binding his arms and legs tightly. Before he was fully immobilised, he swiped his hands and the strings that bound Ossilia tightened suddenly, ripping through her clothes like butter, completely dismembering her arms. Red blood spurted from the stumps that remained as she collapsed to the floor in an unmoving heap.
These strings immediately changed direction and flew towards the unseen shackles that confined his movements. With their help, he easily sliced through them and rotated his wrists casually.
Without leaving any chance for a reprieve, Kyrnos tensed his powerful muscles and leaped forward at a speed that made Ossilia's dash look like a lethargic snail. His front paws were extended, as the claws glistened with the thirst for fresh blood.
In less than a second, Kyrnos appeared in front of the Archbishop and slashed downwards. The force of the strike was so powerful that the metal walls made to contain prisoners of the highest calibre were shredded like meat in a grinder.
However, the figure of the Archbishop that should have been pulverised along with the wall rippled and disappeared, as though it were never there in the first place.
Reappearing elsewhere, he spoke tauntingly, "You've gotten quite out of shape, old man. Are you sure your joints haven't rusted?"
Kyrnos turned his head sharply to look at where the voice came from, with a haughty look in his eyes, "Your tactics are like the blunderings of a cub in the new moon. I would not over estimate myself if I were you".
As Kyrnos was speaking, a dark spike extended from the shadows like a cannon and impaled the Archbishop against the wall.
This time, his attempts to fade away seemed to be interrupted every time, as though the spike pinned something more than his corporeal body to that wall.
With a lofty expression showing in his eyes, Kyrnos walked leisurely towards the still-struggling Archbishop. His fur rippled magnificently as his divine aura was compounded with every step he took until even space seemed to ripple and squirm under the unseen force.
Straining every muscle in his body, Syn attempted to raise his neck. As the pressure mounted, he seemed to see visions of cosmic wars, mountains of corpses and a proud and mighty wolf howling at the moon with his pack in the background.
As these visions were dispelled, his eyes cleared and he saw Kyrnos' face gazing down at him without a shred of emotion as though he were nothing but an insignificant insect in his eyes.
As though realising his folly, he yelled maniacally with the last of his strength, "You shall all join me in hell!
Soon come Chaos, Chaos soon come".
As though speaking those words took all the life from him, his body drooped limply, only held up by the shadow-spike that nailed him to the wall.
In the centre of the atrium, the body of Ossilia twitched a few times were she fell, before tendrils of red fog extended from the stumps were her arms were torn off and drew back her arms to re-attach them to her shoulders.
The Admiral dashed forward and put one arm over her shoulder to help her up.
Kyrnos turned his head away from the corpse of the Archbishop to look at the Admiral before speaking, "The moon pact is beginning to wane, I can at most come twice more."
A sandy vortex appeared in front of Kyrnos and he began to walk towards it. Just as he was to step through, he turned back and looked at the Admiral once more and spoke, "I foresee great changes to this world, little one. The future is soon to reach a turning point and at that time you will have to make a choice. I hope that you will choose wisely."
These words seemed to echo inside the Admiral's head but before he could question any further, Kyrnos had disappeared. All that remained of his presence were grains of sandy dust, floating in the residual eddies of the vortex.
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4th Regent, 1446
All the wards have been set up on the Explorer and we are finally ready to set off. As the navigator I have planned a relatively safe route throught the first few layers. but beyond that is no man's land. Who knows what lies out there, waiting...
- Extract from the diary of S. Kyssus entry 2, Archive File #P1D9*****