Fahkur was a planet of wind and fire situated in the middle of the Fialnaar Galaxy, deep inside the 77th Expanse of the Omniverse. Four times the size of planet AD279-972, this unhospitable world of storms and magma was home to the Fravashi Clan, one of the main ruling Houses of the Corolla Borealis Empire, an Empire that spanned no less than ten superclusters, including the Laniakea supercluster.
Muqadas, Fahkur's capital city, was home to more than 4 billion inhabitants, all toiling and living at the fancies and mercy of the enlightened powerhouses within the Clan senior’s families and factions. On Fahkur, as much as anywhere else in the Omniverse –possibly more so– might made right.
With power, you could legally buy skills, cores, beasts, armour, weapons, estates, land, and people. Without it, you could only hope to survive long enough to be enslaved, or worse, to anyone with strength or Reps. Because, failing power to stand for yourself, you had to be useful if you wanted to keep breathing the dry, burning air that was the norm on the planet.
This explained Khadim's obsequiousness and subservience when interacting with his young master, Tashnalik Fravashi, First Princep of the Clan.
"Your Mightiness," Khadim called as he kowtowed at the entrance of the small grassy patio where his master liked to meditate, "Your... "guests" have been brought to the training courtyard per your instructions."
Grass was definitely an outrageous luxury on a planet where humidity was non-existent. Khadim couldn't help but marvel at the green vegetation's sight and texture and his luck in beholding something so precious.
Princep Tashnalik didn't respond and simply stayed seated in a contemplative lotus position, facing the majestic Dhirwat Alnaar, the tallest and most lethal crater gracing the face of Fahkur.
Days and nights, the fiery peak sprouted poisonous gases, dark clouds of ashes and gigantic molten rocks. Only the bravest enlighteneds dare to venture in its proximity, a trial they would only attempt after being equipped with the best fire resistance items Reps could buy. For millennia, the Dhirwat Alnaar had been both the symbol and the inspiration of the Fravashi Clan's might and resolve.
To be born a Fravashi was to be thrown at an early age–sometimes as soon as 5 into the deep end of conspiracy, betrayal and assassination plots. Cousins, uncles, aunts, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters pitted against each other, vying for fame and Reps, clawing their way to the top, precisely like the magma making its way to the Dhirwat Alnaar summit.
To compensate for the enormous losses that life on Fakhur entailed, the ruling family and the main factions had entire harems dedicated to breeding heirs with the help of all the techniques and skills available in the Omniverse. This chosen path allowed the Fravashi Clan to sire and raise only the strongest, most ruthless enlighteneds possible.
Amongst them, Tashnalik was reputed as one of the grandest prodigies the Clan had ever bred and trained. After all, he had recently broken through to the 7th Rank of cultivation and became the youngest Prophet Fahkur had ever seen. This made him fearless and highly ambitious. Some even murmured that he had set his sights on the Flawless Throne of the Corolla Borealis Empire. The fact that nobody laughed when hearing the rumour was particularly telling.
After ten more minutes of silence and contemplation, Tashnalik finally stood and headed towards the training yard without a word or a gesture of acknowledgement for Khadim.
His habitual attire struck an impressive figure: a tight, sleeveless black leather shirt with simple golden laces in the front, red, loose silk pants, and brown worn-out boots. Only when his master was safely ahead of him did Khadim dare stand up and follow while maintaining a respectful distance between them.
Seeing him walk, one would have expected a feline, lethal grace that was the norm for deadly people all over the Omniverse. One would have been so wrong.
Standing well over 2 metres, his tanned body bulged with thick, taunt muscles, giving him the shape of a large trunk of meat. Coupled with his shaved head and scarred, hairless skin, Tashnalik resembled a reptiloid akin to the fabled draconids of old. Some even preached that he was the reincarnation of the primordial red dragon Shaytan Alnaar, the mythical founder of the Fravashi Clan aeons ago. Once again, nobody laughed when they heard the rumour.
Tashlanik and Khadim took forty minutes to reach the training courtyard in the outer ring of buildings encircling the family personal compound. Every retainer, slaves and servant alike, kowtowed when crossing paths with the mighty, fearsome master, both in awe of his magnificence and dread of any perceived insults. Life was cheap in the Clan. Only the guards were spared this demonstration of fealty for obvious security reasons. Still, they saluted their Lord's passage by showing their open left palm, a submissive proof of harmlessness.
The training courtyard was a modest square of white sand 100 metres long, outlined by a sheltered walkway made of smooth, black cobblestones and surrounded by unadorned basalt walls with a single entrance. This yard was only used once a month when Lord Tashnalik entertained his "guests", as they were called.
On this particular day, twelve people waited in the yard centre, facing the entrance. Six guards stood clad in black-scaled helm and armour, holding wicked-looking obsidian halberds. Kneeling before them were the "guests" Tashnalik had to entertain: 4 women and two men, all bound and gagged yet unharmed.
"Greetings," the Lord said with his coarse, deep voice as he descended into the yard. He gestured for the guards to cut the bonds and ungag them.
"I demand to know what is going on?!" Yelled one of the men as he stood up, rubbing his wrists. "This is an outrage! Do you have any idea who I am?! Whose House I represent?"
Emboldened by the man's bravado, the other guests started to voice their displeasure, albeit less vehemently than him.
"We know who you are, Deputy Legate Erzhan," answered Khadim with all the scorn he could muster. "As we are aware of Underattaché Gulaisha, Chief Ming Yao, office Clerk Lan Fen, Professor Mubo, and assistant Professor Fumiko's #Displays and levels. We know everything there is about you–"
Khadim stopped as soon as he saw his master hold a finger up.
"Denying won't save you," Tashnalik announced. "You are here because you are spies and assassins sent by House Malak'elohim, House Tirakan and House Khitre to worm your way within the Clan's families until you can tactically strike and weaken us. We know what you represent..."
After a slight nod from their Lord, the guards retreated to the walls, leaving the prisoners alone in the yard to face their fate. The men and women frowned at each other, unsure of the best course of action towards those outlandish allegations. They knew the Lord's reputation and didn't dare aggravate him. In their hearts, they foolishly hoped he would come to his senses and let them go after realising all of this was a terrible mistake.
They wanted to believe in that impossible outcome, even though the accusation thrown at them had been damningly accurate. They were spies and assassins sent by rival houses to deeply insert themselves into the life of the Clan until the day they would be activated.
The shocking notion they couldn't wrap their heads around was that they had been uncovered so soon after arriving in Muqadas. Their fake #Displays were the best Reps could forge and buy, and their legends had been physically documented by the best scribes and scholars.
All the skills they were supposed to know and master had been covertly purchased and force-trained on them in total secrecy. Some, like the Cook and the Teaching Assistant, had even spent time on different worlds playing their classes to increase their chances of passing the numerous background checks.
The Houses's spymasters had spared no expenses, knowing full well how near impossible it was to embed spies on Muqadas. In all the reports to their House Lords and Ladies, the same spymasters emphasised that they could never be sure of any successes in implanting agents on Muqadas since those agents had no way of sending reports to the outside without blowing their covers. The Clan's most trusted people consistently monitored their members, helped by [Unique] skills and techniques no one could fathom.
"I despise treachery and betrayal to my core," Tashnalik explained while doing a light stretch of his upper body. His skin creaked like dry leather. "Any Shrink worth their salt would absolutely find the reasons for that in my upbringing. I'm sure you all have been briefed on the way the Clan grooms young people here on Fahkur... Let me tell you that whatever the reports say, the truth is... worse."
Tashnalik gratified them with a sinister grin as he finished talking. Seeing some of the men and women's reactions, he carried on.
"Don't fret. What is done is done. "Clothes maketh the man," as the saying goes... Don't get me wrong, though. On a fundamental level, I understand your purpose and mission for coming here. You are trying to help your respective Houses achieve their objectives, whatever those are, and I respect that. This is not the problem. The real problem is that your Houses' objectives are to bring down MY House. This I can not allow, I'm afraid..." Tashnalik put his thumb in his large leather girdle and looked at each of them in turn before speaking again. "Let me tell you how this is going to play out. It is pretty simple, trust me. If you manage to reach the stairs and walk out that doorway behind me, you will live and be deported with the interdiction of ever setting foot on any Clan's worlds again under penalty of death. If you don't, well... let's say it won't matter to you anymore, anyway..."
Hearing Tashnalik's last words, the men and women in the courtyard took fighting stances, blowing their covers for good and betraying their true calling under the System. They shared glances between the Princep and the guards standing by the wall, expecting a sudden attack.
"Oh! Come on, now. Don't be insulting!" the tall man laughed. "Why on Fahkur would you think I need help to kill you?!"
As Tashnalik said those words, he opened his mouth wide, wider than humanly possible, and gushed a torrent of thick black ashes that soon became a black fog covering the whole yard. Coughs and yells of surprise could be heard from those enlighteneds without any purifying skills or techniques. In mere seconds, the Prophet's toxic Field of Ashes obscured their hearing and sighting, slowing their movements and dulling their Senses.
The first to act was Erzhan, the Deputy Legate from House Malak'elohim plenipotentiary official delegation, who stepped forward and disappeared, courtesy of the -Instant Stride- skill he had acquired ages ago and diligently levelled to 75. A manic grin deformed his face as he saw the stairs and the aforementioned salvation within his grasp.
“So long, suckers” was all he could think of as he moved his leg to take the second step that would bring him straight to the top of the stairs. He could already smell the sweet scent of victory in the air when he suddenly hit an invisible wall of energy. The impact shattered his nose and front teeth and, more vital to his survival, his left kneecap.
A stunned Erzhan fell to the ground like a sack of grain with a high-pitched buzzing in his head, indicating all the signs of a severe concussion, which shouldn't have been possible. His skill was supposed to make him intangible and allow him to phase through any physical or spiritual obstacle. The Field of Ash shouldn't have been able to block his egress. Unless...? Before Erzhan could follow that line of thoughts, he felt more than saw a presence loom over him.
Tashnalik was grinning as he grabbed the betrayer's head and squeezed it like a ripe melon. A scrunch and pop sound later, Erzhan's corpse dropped to his feet. The mighty Prophet of the Fravashi Clan shook his right hand to get rid of the blood, bones and brain matter as if it were nothing. Still smiling, his fingers on both hands grew and morphed into thick obsidian claws 50 centimetres long. Pleased, he entered his Fields of Ash, determined to quickly end the lives of those traitors.
Tashnalik used a movement Technique to cover the distance leading to the second spy from House Malak'elohim, Assistant Professor Fumiko. To anyone below his Rank, which was a lot of people in the Omniverse, it felt like Tashnalik had teleported right in front of his next opponent.
Blinded and sensing the corrosive poison hidden within the particles of ash floating around, Fumiko had used an armour Technique to create a thick layer of dried earth all over her body, head included. After all, she was a Rank 6 Master of Earth Mana; she didn't need her sight or hearing to see her opponent. When Tashnalik appeared before her, she was racking her brain to find a way out as she was not gullible enough to believe a word coming out of the sworn enemies of her House.
Fumiko didn't forget how House Fravashi had systematically been sabotaging her own House so that they could force a marriage between the young Heiress and this brutish Prophet of theirs. Old Spymaster Ganlu had insisted on the importance of her mission. She was to be the last resort, a failsafe in case they had no other recourse but to make an attempt on the life of the Fravashi's Mightiness, as he liked to be called.
She thought of her young Mistress Aasha, beautiful and spirited, the hope of House Malak'elohim since her brother Shanlong had suddenly disappeared 2 centuries ago while serving his term for the System on some backwater planet in the Diamond Dust Cluster. With Shanlong gone, Lady Aasha was a direct, easy conduit to the Corolla Borealis Throne. Coughing, Fumiko tried to recall the name of the planet, but it had been so unimportant at the time.
What was important, nay, paramount, was to escape this courtyard and lose herself in the capital's population so that she could warn her people danger was coming much sooner than anticipated. Lady Aasha thought she had centuries before Fravashi scums would dare to move on her, but they were wrong. They had decades at best. Years at worst. She had to warn the Council of Elders. They had to know the scope of the danger they were facing.
Her thought process had just reached this point when she felt Tashnalik's obsidian claw easily pierce her dirt armour and reinforced body. A tenth of a second was all it took for Fumiko to die skewered like a kebab. One of the strongest cultivators in her House, and the fight lasted less than 3 seconds. As her Inner Centrum crumbled around her, her dying soul finally remembered the damn planet's name. AD279-972. Earth.
Tashnalik felt Fumiko's soul dissipate around them as her dried-earth shell of a body crumpled to the ground. He was a bit miffed that she hadn't put up more resistance to his attack. According to Khadim's intelligence, she was supposed to be a middle-stage Rank 6 Cultivator. This bout with the Malak'elohim traitor made him realise the considerable gap between cultivators of the Sublime Assembly like Fumiko and those of the next tier like him, the Flawless Throng.
They simply did not live in the same Omniverse anymore, and unless more suitable opponents dared to infiltrate his homeworld, this bunch would be the last Tashnalik personally dealt with. He sighed and moved on to the next one, the Professor from House Tirakan, the current ruling House of the Empire.
Tashnalik's smile was gone when he appeared in front of the cowering Mubo Saito. Another unworthy opponent. The poor man was shivering and wailing with his arms over his head, inhaling and coughing big gulps of ashes, assimilating more and more Poison Essence as he did so. The mighty Prophet took pity on the poor creature and swiftly decapitated him.
There was no point letting him agonise any longer than necessary since Khadim had confirmed Mubo was a genuine Professor whose only sin was a gambling addiction and a debt to the wrong person. Mubo had been forcefully conscripted to come here and spy on the Clan on behalf of House Tirakan.
Their spymaster was a big fan of blackmail and extortion to get the job done. Tashnalik couldn't wait to put his hands on him and make him pay for his sins. In the meantime, though, he would show mercy to the man's unwilling underlings. Tashnalik was magnanimous like that.
Another movement Technique, and he found himself facing the Underattaché from House Tirakan's Embassy here in Muqabas. Just like Fumiko, Gulaisha Amangeldi was a killer first and foremost. Funny, Tashnalik thought, that all the killers in this bunch had been women.
Was it a reflection of his character that his enemies thought women would have more chances to approach and assassinate him? Was he supposed to be that shallow and infatuated with himself that he would not consider women as dangerous as men?
How badly miscalculated, once more. His enemies might be legion, but they all lacked the correct information to properly assess his character. You simply didn't live to become a Prophet in the Fravashi Clan if you had a short-sighted view of the world. It just did not happen.
When she sensed his approach, the Tirakan originator used a Shadow Skill supposedly to mask her presence. She couldn't know that nothing short of a higher-ranked cultivator could hide from him while she was in his Field of Ash. His Field was a projection of his Inner Sanctum in the physical world. Everything and everyone in it appeared like a beacon in his mind, and they had to submit to his will and Mana. There was no escape from your fate once you had set foot in his Field.
Still, Gulaisha tried to ambush him from behind, launching an overhead strike with her thin, poisoned shiv. Tashnalik let her believe she had succeeded, feeling elation and joy coming off her until he caught her arm and sliced the dagger-wielding wrist in one swift motion.
Surprisingly, she didn't lose a beat and pounded her knee into his groin section while grabbing the falling hand and dagger with her other hand. He let go of her arm, and she followed up with a shiv strike to his open flank, most certainly aimed at his kidney. She didn't even take the time to grip the shiv in her good hand, instead opting to hold her cut-off hand as if it were part of the weapon. Grisly.
Tashnalik acknowledged this level of dedication with the briefest of nods. He could see the strands of Mana surrounding Gulaisha as she triggered her offensive Shadow Essence-based Skills, one after the other, to no avail. He let the shiv break his skin before he impaled her through the stomach with his elongated claws. Then, with a subtle wrist movement, he ripped apart her lower abdomen, nearly cutting Gulaisha in half. She fell to the floor, gasping. It was the first sound she made since going up against him. Like the rest, he watched her soul merge quickly with the Omniverse.
In the same brutal and efficient manner, he took care of the last 2 guests, Ming Yao, the cook and Lan Fen, the clerk. Those 2 were the lowest level among the bunch.
Where the first four had been killers, to the notable exception of poor Professor Mubo, the last two had merely been spies embedded in the business branch of the Clan. Which was on par with House Kithre's usual tactics. They loved corporate espionage as much as they loved currency of any type. They didn’t partake in the killing business since it was bad for business. Tashnalik didn't mind them much since they were not a major contender in the contest for the Imperial Throne. When the time came, they would side with the strongest contender and try to gain as many advantages as possible for their late support.
In Tashnalik's mind, House Kithre symbolised the cancer plaguing the Empire and, to a certain extent, the Omniverse. They fueled and grew on the chaos and lawlessness of the Corollan society. Someone had to bring order and peace to the Empire. This someone would be Tashnalik. It was his fate.
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Finally done with his dirty but necessary duty, he retracted his Field of Ashes, revealing the mangled corpses of the Clan's enemies for his guards to clean up. The fight, if someone could call this cleansing a fight, had lasted 6 seconds to the lower-ranked spectators.
"Khadim, report," Tashnalik ordered as he left the courtyard without looking back. His people would clean it up.
"The provision agreement with House Yogya's representatives is advancing nicely. By the end of the week, we will have secured the installation of Healing Residences in every planetary Hub under our purview."
"Satisfactory," Tashnalik answered with a nod. "House Yogya is a disciplined and efficient organisation. I respect them."
Khadim waited to see if his master would expand on his views of House Yogya, but nothing came, so after the proper amount of silence, he continued reporting news about the day-to-day running of the Clan.
Only the most critical affairs would reach Lord Tashnalik's ears for decision. Ninety per cent of the business was in the hands of the Clan's middle and top management, overflowing with executive officers running the administration, finances, agriculture, security, education, business, supply, and so on. Oathbound male and female enlighteneds whose shoulders bear the responsibility of carrying the Clan forward for eternity.
"And last, I am happy to report the Expanse Court has finally ruled in our favour and granted our petition for AD279-972," Khadim said.
"That Acting Lord Arbiter had no more ground to refute us. This is why." Commented laconically Tashnalik. "What about the preliminary reports?"
"They all confirm what the initial survey hinted," Khadim replied, looking at his Merc. "The Mana readings indicate the presence of Earth, Water, Air, Fire, Wood, Life and Death Essences in abundance. We anticipate a harvest in excess of 200,000 Ren. Do you want the estimated Reps income based on market value?"
"No need," was Tashnalik's curt answer. "Tell me more about the species. Any candidates worthy of joining our orbit?"
"Our recruiting team have found three species worthy of attention, your Mightiness," Khadim answered. "Firstly, we have the water-based Cetacea species with affinities for Water, as expected, Light, Life and Death Essences. Since there are over 90 subspecies, our recruiters focused their attention on three specifically. The Baleana subspecies show great affinity with Life Essences. The Delphinus subspecies with Light Essences, and the Orca subspecies with Death Essences..."
"Healers, tricksters and killers..." Mused Tashnalik without looking. "Go on."
"Our assessment as well, your Mightiness," Khadim replied with a bow. "The second species is also water-based and called Sharks. They show great promises towards Water, Death and Blood Essences. The team think they will make excellent berserkers..."
Tashnalik didn't correct Khadim as he agreed with the assessment. Blood and Death affinities in any species were a recipe for spectacularly violent warriors. Berserkers was one of the many names they could be called if they ended up favouring the Originator's path to power. Since Cultivators only used ranks and titles, they would only be known as "crazy foes".
"Finally, the last species is the Formicidae, an insect lifeform," Khadim declared, "land-based, which shows excellent potential towards Earth, Fire and Red Essences. Our projections show they will conquer and subdue all the other land-based species by the end of the first lustrum. The three water-based species should reach an equilibrium at the same time. They already cohabit pretty harmoniously. The Seeding will only serve to cement the existing situation."
"Nothing else?" Tashnalik inquired.
"No, your Mightiness," confirmed Khamid.
"Good work, Khamid," the Clan Fravashi's youngest Prophet in history said, sending waves of pride and joy to Khamid's heart. Praise from the master was rare and to be appreciated to his just value. Khamid fell to his knee and kowtowed in pleasure.
"Thank you, you Mightiness." He purred.
...
"Speak," was Tashnalik's curt order as Khadim appeared on the threshold of the Prophet's meditation garden. The Prophet's retreat had been going on for three months as he attempted to seek enlightenment and break through to the mid-stage of Rank 7.
"Planet AD279-972 is one week away from the end of its first lustrum, your Mightiness," Khadim explained. "We have just received the combined report from our observation teams."
"And?" Replied Khadim's master. Far away in the distance, Dhirwat Alnaar rumbled louder than usual, as if it reflected the Prophet's temper. Khadim was on thin ice.
"There has been an unforeseen development, your Mightiness," Khadim explained with a firm voice that made him proud. It was never a good idea to show weakness in front of his master.
"Explain." Another curt answer that could have been misinterpreted with a growl.
"The three water-based species showed splendid growth, taking to the System, well, like fishes to water–pardon the terrible analogy... We have a good mix of originators and Cultivators amongst them. Their integration within the Clan should go swimmingly–" It was Khadim's second water analogy, and he feared it would be one too many. His master was not known for his sense of humour. Get it under control, old fool! Khadim thought before continuing his report as if nothing had happened. "As anticipated, a good number of Cultivator healers are emerging in the Balaena population, and we have already taken steps to secure a good trade with House Yogya once the second lustrum is over. They should fetch a good price, both in Reps and favours. On the same note, we have discreetly approached other Houses regarding the Delphinus' development. True to the team's predictions, the Delphinus are naturally adept at illusions with their mastery of light. They also make for decent skirmishers with their enhanced Agility and Endurance. They don't seem to take anything seriously, though, which explains why they mostly all became Originators of the Breaker and Support Archetypes. They chose the path of least resistance..." Khadim nearly spat the last comment, disdain clearly audible in his voice. "Still, we believe certain Houses known for their subpar standards will be interested in acquiring the lot for a reasonable price. The Commerce division is handling their case, and I do not doubt they will find a result that serves the Clan's interests."
Tashnalik only nodded his assent. His body appeared relaxed, and his breathing was barely perceptible as he faced the ancient rumbling and spitting mountains. Still, Khamid felt a mounting pressure surround him, like a weight on his shoulder, a clear indicator his master was losing his cool, and he better get to a point pretty soon. After all, the Prophet's Field of Ashes didn't always take the form of a black fog.
"Our teams advise incorporating the Orca members directly into the Senior Families as they show great talent in savage but silent mayhem. They comment that most chose originator Fighter classes. The bloodier, the merrier, apparently. The few who chose the path of Cultivation also became brutally efficient combatants."
"Make it happen." Ordered Tashnalik as the pressure seemed to decrease on Khamid.
"Yes, your Mightiness," replied the old servant with a bow. "Regarding the Sharks, our observers recommend trying them out as shock troops for the Junior Families' skirmishes. It seems those Sharks are solitary, simple-minded creatures whose bloodlust knows no bounds. They mostly followed the path of origination as Fighters. So far, they haven't formed anything regarding a group or a safe zone within the water masses of AD279-972. At this stage of the Seeding, our men can not predict how the Sharks will behave if we force them to work together. The proposed solution will permit us to test their grouping effectiveness within a small organisation first."
"Let's wait until the end of the second lustrum before making any decision regarding the Sharks," ordered Tashnalik.
In the Prophet's mind, Junior Families deserved as much consideration as Senior ones. They were the backbone of the Clan. A myriad of little organisations that came together under his leadership to provide the Major Families with all the much-needed resources. He didn't want to use them as lab rats or, worse in his mind, garbage bins. If those newly-seeded creatures could be tamed and become a positive force for the Clan, they would be gifted to the deserving Junior Families. If not, they would be sold for parts. Alchemists were always looking for new materials to improve the quality of their ware.
"As you will, your Mightiness," Khadim didn't skip a bit, "I will inform the recruiters to keep observing and collect more data until the lustrum ends."
"What about the Formicidae?" Inquired Tashnalil.
"Well," Khadim coughed, "this is the development I mentioned earlier and the reason I dare to intrude on your Mightiness. The Formicidae species have performed poorly compared to our previsions."
"How so?"
"If you recall, we expected these insects to conquer the continent by the end of the lustrum, thus effectively enslaving the other sentient species living there. Well... they simply did not. Worse, they nearly got wiped out by another sentient species and only managed to conserve a small portion of land in the southern part of the continent. For all intents and purposes, they are nearly extinct and, barring a miracle, won't live long enough to see the end of the second lustrum as they have become a source of Mana and Reps for the other species around them."
"Nothing new there, Khadim," curtly replied Tashnalik as he turned to look at his underling. His eyes were a bottomless pit of black. His mouth formed a straight, narrow line of irritation. Khadim felt a shiver run down his spine. "The predator hunts its prey. The strong kills the weak. It has been such since the dawn of the System. Seventy-seven Expanses have duplicated this first and immutable law of the Omniverse... Let me remind you that, as Prophet of the Clan, every decision I have to make impacts the lives of billions of souls spread across a thousand worlds. Any questions I answer, opinions I give, or judgements I decree have the potential of a thousand butterfly effects. Why would you intrude on me with such a trivial matter, I ask? Answer me quickly, Khadim. Patience is a virtue, and I don't feel virtuous right now..."
"A thousand apologies, your Mightiness," Khadim replied but stood his ground before the verbal onslaught. He was perfectly aware of everything his master said. Still, he believed the Prophet needed to hear the disturbing news from AD279-972 in person. The Clan required directions, and his master was the only one who could provide. "I can not fathom your plight as leader of our Clan. I can only believe in your indomitable spirit and soul to lead us to the Innumerable Heavens. Still, I bring news you need to hear, I'm certain. I even vow by the System to be killed on the spot if the news I bring is unworthy of your attention. Your words will determine my fate, as they naturally should..."
As he spoke the words, Khadim felt a thick strand of Mana connect his master to him and him to the distant Supercluster where the System resided. The vow was the most potent one could deliver when one wanted to convince another party of his sincerity. Khadim's vow had been registered by the System via his PSION. One wrong word from Tashnalik and the System would trigger his PSION's self-destruct mode with respect for Khadim's wishes and Tashnalik's opinion.
"Talk then, Khadim Alshujae," the Prophet replied after turning completely to face him out of respect for his gutsy words. "Fight for your life, old friend."
"As I was saying, the Formicidae failed to conquer the continent because they fell prey to another humanoid species called Terrans. Our teams had previously discarded those "Terrans" in their preliminary report because all they seemed capable of doing was destroying the planet and fighting each other mindlessly over any little squabbles imaginable. They had close to zero spiritual capacities since technology was overdominant. To top it off, they were the same biological species but insisted on differences based on skin colour, language and geographic residence. They had more than 7000 different languages, for Heavens' sake! 7000, your Mightiness, who does that?!" Khadim paused after that last part to recover his breath. Those pesky Terrans and their stupid civilisation. "In short, our recruiters believed the Terrans to be violent, pesky, selfish, vain creatures that would get eaten into oblivion before the end of the first month of the Seeding. And our men were right for the most part. The Terrans lost over 80% of their population in the first two weeks..."
"What happened to change that?" Inquired Tashnalik. Before the seriousness of his underling's oath, he couldn't give less than 100% of his attention to the matter.
"The unpredictable, your Mightiness," Khadim responded softly. "Unforeseen Gods appeared and saved the Terrans from their impending doom..."
"I'm sorry to say, old friend, but Gods are neither unpredictable nor unforeseen," chided Tashnalik. "A few eventually emerge due to the superabundance of Mana benefiting the Seeded World. Nothing new there, once again..."
"A few, yes," Khadim promptly replied, "not 650 and counting, your Mightiness..."
This tidbit of information got Tashnalik's full attention, even though he kept his appearance composed, not letting his inner turmoil at these news shows. To say that he was surprised would be an euphemism.
Never in the history of the Clan had there been a newly Seeded world sprouting 650 Gods in the first lustrum. He would have to check, but Tashnalik was ready to bet that never in the history of the System had 650 gods emerged in that period. Usually, by the end of the second, one such being would emerge and need to be dealt with accordingly when the planet became harvestable. Two, at most.
As Tahsnalik mentioned to Khadim, with so much Mana available, an Enlightened only required a lot of guts, grit, and luck to attain the Ranks of the Sublime Assembly. Usually, 1 in 200 billion beings could hope to achieve this status in the Omniverse. Sometimes more, but never 650 in a billion. With that number, Planet AD279-972 was already the equivalent of a Minor House of the Empire. Khadim had been right. This changed everything.
Because when a world was finally open for Harvesting, the owner of the world's deed had first rights of assimilation for a short period of time. It usually implied an enticing contract to the 1 or 2 Gods organically grown into the world. In exchange for resources and support, those Enlightened would forego any planetary rights or items they might have acquired during the 2-lustrum observation period. If they didn't, well, there always was the second immutable law of the Omniverse: Someone is always stronger, meaner and more deadly than you.
More importantly, once the first month was over, all Empire factions were allowed to negotiate deals and trades with surviving factions and individuals from the Seeded World. One month to take it all. The situation had the potential to become the biggest business and political fiasco the Clan had ever known.
"You were right to come to me," Tashnalik answered after thinking it through. "Does it appear these Gods will survive til the end of the second lustrum?"
"It does," Khadim answered gloomly. "They seem to be working together towards saving the Terran's people and their planet by helping them grow in power. There are some skirmishes and fighting amongst them, but our teams suspect those are artificials and only serve to induce growth and progression in the people."
"How did this happen? Any theories from our analysts?" Inquired Tashnalik.
"Nothing concrete, your Mightiness. As I said, these people were not spiritual, but we overlooked their Faith..."
"Faith? What has that got to do with anything?"
"They believe in anything and everyone, be it technology, the one true God, gods of alcohol and parties, or something called the Golden Calf. They produced a tremendous amount of Spiritual Essence the likes we have never seen before..."
"How did our team miss it, pray tell?" Tashnalik growled to that particular bit of news. Spiritual Essence, or Qi as it was sometimes called by more traditional Cultivators, was a very valuable resource to any factions in the Empire. It was, after all, the primary component of any cultivation path.
"The Essence didn't manifest right away," Khadim explained as he read his Merc. "It only appeared on the third day of the Seeding, right as the first Safe Zones quests were activated. They don't know how it connects, though. They are not even sure it connects at all. All they have is suppositions and theories..."
"Such as?"
"The leading theory is that a pre-existing Mana array on the planet was triggered when the Wells opened. From there, this array started to capture the ambient Faith Essence generated by the Terrans until it reached an unknown threshold that allowed the emergence of Faith-based Gods, thus effectively bypassing every System's rules and restraints on individual growth. It was a cheat..." Khadim concluded, resentful at the luck displayed by those simple-minded Terrans.
"A pre-existing Mana array on the planet could only mean one thing, could it not?" Asked his master, interrupting this useless chain of thoughts.
"Yes, your Mightiness," confirmed Khadim. "It would imply the presence of Progenitors' technology on AD279-972, or Earth as the Terrans call it. To this day, the revered heroes are the only ones who ever fiddled and achieved any results with Spiritual Essence capture. Our analysts came to the same conclusion."
"You realise the implications of such a possibility, I'm sure, Khadim," Tashnalik softly stated.
"I do, your Mightiness."
The Progenitors were a fundamental part of the Omniverse creation Myth taught to all future enlightened in their first years of sentience. According to the PSION's Lore section, the Progenitors answered the Abettor's call during the Usherin Era. They took arms to defend the budding System and Omniverse against the Bespoken, a vile, malefic creature wielding Entropy Essence to corrupt and annihilate people and planets at the behest of his master, the Utemest Foe.
The War for Creation, as it was later called, lasted millennia and saw the destruction of thousands of worlds and trillions of people before the Progenitors were finally able to vanquish and banish the Bespoken in the great void outside the Omniverse.
What the PSION's Lore section didn't say was that to achieve this victory, the Progenitors experimented on countless worlds, fusing advanced technology and Essences in order to build the weapon they would ultimately use to kill the Bespoken and save the Omniverse.
Small and big weapons, armours, transportation devices of all kinds and sizes, traps and arrays, treasures the likes the Omniverse hadn't seen since, forever forgotten, hidden behind the veil of time and growing life to resurface randomly in the Omniverse and bring great powers to its lucky finder.
To find one such treasure on planet AD279-972 was yet another sign that Tashnalik was the Prophet who would bring great fortunes to the Clan. Visions of greatness swirled in his mind so much that he nearly missed his next master's words.
"Have anyone who has seen this report killed this moment, lest they talk to the wrong person. Make sure their families are well compensated through the usual shell Families and Societies. You know the ones."
"What is the plan, your Mightiness?" Khadim asked after sending the appropriate coded messages to operatives well suited for this kind of work. As spymaster of the Fravashi Clan, he had had ample time over the past millennia to recruit and train the best wetwork specialists the Empire didn't know existed.
"The plan is... complicated," answered a pensive Tashnalik. "We will have to tread lightly as there are a lot of moving parts and unknowns. First, we must keep our findings a secret for as long as possible. The execution of our agents will draw undue attention. Nothing to be done about that... We can not appear too secretive, as it will only fuel our enemies' interest. No, instead, I propose we feed them a story that the Seeding is surprisingly expected to perform poorly for us, with the looming loss of millions of Reps if we don't do anything. This rumour will justify our incompetent agents' execution in the eyes of our enemies. It will also reinforce my persona of a petty, violent leader who does not tolerate errors and weaknesses and retaliates at the smallest slight. My reaction won't surprise anyone and will explain why we forbid any other Houses' representatives in the observation posts for the second lustrum. Heck, they might even be happy not to appear on my radar. We will instead offer compensation through deals that will seem to make us lose even more Reps..."
"What about the loss of face, your Mightiness?" Khadim pointed out, already filled with indignation. "You will become a subject of mockery by the other Suzerains. This can neither be tolerated nor overlooked!"
"Of course it can, old friend," Tashnalik answered with a genuine, happy smile. The first in years. "In the face of finding a Progenitor treasure, what is some loss of face? Inconsequential... Nonetheless, I will have to keep throwing public tantrums and punish our people randomly and unfairly. Move some of our junior officers around our different planetary holdings. Promote and demote as you see fit. Just make sure the administrative machine still runs smoothly. We don't want to cripple ourselves."
"As you wish, your Mightiness," Khadim reluctantly conceded. It didn't feel right. To feel better, he decided to work on a list of those who would dare to mock his master. A personal hit list. Their comeuppance would come later. He would make sure of it.
"This will give you ample time to send operatives on the ground to gather more information and find the treasure before the second lustrum ends," Tashnalik explained.
"What about the Gods?" Khadim inquired.
"Approach them and give them something to think about. Information, deals, you have carte blanche to make them understand that joining the Clan is not an option but the most desirable course. To motivate them, you can tell them I will reduce their world to ashes if they oppose or betray us to another House. AD279-972 is Fravashi's property. Nobody else's." The Prophet made a pause. He didn't smile anymore. "You know the risk entailed in this mission, don't you, Khadim?"
"I do, your Mightiness," answered the spymaster with a salute. "I would be lying if I said I look forward to leaving your side, but I understand the significance and the stakes. I will not fail you, master."
As Khadim lowered himself into a final kowtow, he started to plan for his future travel to AD279-972 and the cover-up story he would have to circulate to explain his banishment. When done, he would have to find a way to send his people down on the world without raising detection from the System's Mavens. This would be tricky, but Khadim knew just the right #Display wizard to utilise. As it happened, she was currently residing in one of the capital's jails, waiting to be executed for some petty crime. She always had been lucky, that one. A cat with 99 lives. So little time and so much to do, he thought as he prepared to take his leave.
"I'm even starting to believe it will do the Clan some good to shake things up and keep everyone on their toes for what is coming..." Tashnalik confided, lost in thoughts.
"What is coming, your Mightiness?" Khadim felt trepidation as his master gave him a wistful look and a feral grin.
"Why, but my ascendency to the Pearless Body, of course!"