The Void.
A black and empty space of desolation.
It is said that everyone that has, is or ever will live has one deep within their conscious. A place of solace, of formless matter, of vacant thought and careless worry. It is an innate domain within the mind, we are born with it, we die with it. Many never even know it exists, never returning to that barren blackness. Others, the majority in fact, visit its touchless embrace often. Filling the void with their negative thoughts, the broken promises and hollowed out dreams. Carrying it throughout their lives like baggage, sometimes emptying it, sometimes being crushed by the unbearable weight.
Yet there are a handful, a small handful, that do not simply carry the void, neither do they remain oblivious to its existence. These individual few, live in the void, retreating from the horrors of reality to the comfort of formlessness within the inky abyss. Outsiders, those of stronger wills and heartier constitution, would call these recluses weak, childish, unfit to lead and unfit to work. Cowards who choose the safety of nothingness over the rewards of struggle.
In many ways, these…outsiders, these leaders and folk of legend are right. The void is the coward’s haven, the sanctum of the weak and the prison of the broken. A paradise as much as it is a prison. Though the void is not without its own perils, not without its own jailor. For no prison is truly a prison without such a fearsome guardian. To those that retreat to the Void, they quickly learn paradise is not free. Whether they be demons, a broken psyche, guilt or… other creatures, no one is alone in the Void of the Mind.
Thus it is here, in the darkest depths of the Void, we find a familiar consciousness. Drifting on the windless waves, his mind recalls nothing but the fires of a war long passed.
He remembers the great warship Ghabarron, walking along its gold plated halls. Watching from the command deck as Imperial Fleet Gluttony’s Maw, was wiped out within the first minutes of the battle. Half a million bodies soiled the breathless vacuum, turning the solarscape into a bloody red. Images of Ghabarron being struck by invaders entered the void. Scenes of these blackened forces falling by the wayside as he entered the battle on the hull. They seemed endless, hundreds of thousands of scenes of war and slaughter filled the void with violence and bloodshed. It was overwhelming and overstimulating every one of his senses with carnage. He wanted to vomit, but no such ability was granted to his formless consciousness. Feeling his mind ready to explode, unable to scream, impossible to drown out, the scenes stopped.
A single voice, confident and strong, spoke, its words silencing everything else within the Void.
“You’ll never find what you are looking for, in the past. Listen closely to my words, and follow them truly.”
The Voice, feminine, alluring yet commanding attention.
“In my hand, as you once commanded, I have a vision of your future. Five tales I will tell, five warnings I will give. Heed them, and heed them well lest The Fiend win his emergent game.
“Of Friends, I tell you this:
The Strongest will lead you, until their might burns clear to ash.
The Darkest will rival you, on the eve of their fall, take pity and offer to heal.
The Kindest will love you, love in equal quantities, for they grant wisdom at your greatest failure.
The Brightest will betray you, their venom will snuff out The Weakest.
The Outlier, fear his touch, love his whimsy, on the day of demons, his black wrath shall char the crimson skies obsidian.
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Of those who would offer help, I grant you this knowledge:
To the Shapeless, be kind, and they will protect you for eons to come.
The Blackest Wall will block your way, its conflict will be great, show understanding and it will save you from death’s cold grasp.
The Fearful will forgive you, only once their shining knight has been bloodied.
The Blade, as cold as it is skilled, you will face death if your blade clashes with it. Befriend the Dragon and its heart will Warm.
The Dread Knight will challenge you, fight with all your might. He will repay you in kind.
Of those who seek to harm you, beware:
When The Flawless challenges you, hold on to your morals, they will crack its pristine shell.
The Taint Metal must be saved, their betrayal will burn, her redemption will fracture the Red Tide.
The Pale Fiend will stalk you, show no fear, show no weakness, the darkness shall engulf him.
Thrice the The Fiend will battle you, Thrice the Fiend will claim victory. Your defeat is inevitable.
Of Those Waiting in the Dark, lost to their own hatred, I offer little:
Judge them not as a warrior, not as a god, but as a Sinner seeking redemption.
Fight as a beast, Hunt as a Scholar, Forgive as a Priest, Listen as a Student and Die Like a Martyr.
These will come to pass, you will let them pass, you will struggle, deny, hate and bargain, but nothing will halt what is coming. Know this, when we meet again my sweet prince, neither my name will cross your lips nor your memory enter mine. Nevertheless, my task will be completed and you will be whole again.”
Though formless, he felt the warm embrace of hands caressing his cheeks.
“Now wake, my Warrior. The Galaxy awaits your return.”
Like the dawn of a new day breaking through the night, her words dissolved the darkness of the void. Giving way to a blinding white light, and the sudden shocking sensation of pain.
----------------------------------------
CAL awoke to throbbing, agonizing pain rippling through his body. Still blinded by the white light, he felt as if every single one of his senses were overloaded. His eyes burned, a piercing and ear bleeding pitch rang through his skull, the thick metallic singe of blood burned his nose, even his tongue felt as if razor blades had been run across it. In the precious few moments he could collect his thoughts among the sensory assault, he began to recall the first time he awoke in the village. He suffered similar pains back then, only stopping once he calmed his mind. But, the pain is immeasurably worse now than it was then. Any hope of controlling himself was a futile effort, if the effort was possible to begin with.
Perfectly on cue, CAL felt a massive pressure crush his body, followed by several unknown voices.
“Get him doped up now! I’ll hold him down!”
The first voice was heavy, strong and exuded both in his abilities, confidence and worry for the situation.
“What kinda monster did you bring in here? These blades are every– AH! My arm!”
Dour and dry, the female voice sucked all the energy and enthusiasm of the first out of the air.
“Damn it that one’s on me, thought I had him locked down. You good?”
“Forget about the arm, he broke the last vial. The hell are we putting him down with now?”
“Pious is en route, she’ll handle it, just keep those blades from leaving the room.”
“”Why do I always get the crap jobs?”
“Just keep your field up until Pious gets here.”
Several grunts of frustration fill the room, the clashing and crushing of weaponry creating a cacophony of noise in the background.
“Fucking hell, that was my leg asshole! If Pious isn’t here in the next 30 seconds I'm flatlining your little rescue!”
“You will hold Alt, he is valuable to us and worth the effort.”
“Hello, hello! Did someone call for a doctor?”
This new girl was far more cheery than the other, like a caring mother compared to the other’s gloomy outlook.
“If you could pull him to the ground that would be ideal.”
CAL felt the pressure increase, flattening him with great force. Followed by a cold shock to his forehead, pulsating quickly through his entire body. All of his senses returned to normal instantaneously. Opening his eyes and jumping to his feet, he canned the room as quickly as possible, sterile white walls, cabinets, chairs, a bed, mounted tv. CAL realized he was in a medbay, a disturbingly advanced one at that.
“Looks like he’s finally up!”