Year since Creation: 3972
Location: Significance Plane, Ritual system, Ruthod
Maroc slammed his eye shut as reality shattered in front of him in a wave of light and screams. All around him rat like Brob collapsed from the strain of tearing the portal open, with every sacrifice slightly stabilizing the chaotic light until it was a single consistent glow. Only then did the scout dare open his eyes to admire the result of a ritual that cost more than the yearly funding of a planet.
It was beautiful.
Throughout his long military career Maroc had had the privilege to see dozens of teleportation rituals in action and had even been lucky enough to see the opening of a set of Extranar portals that led towards the Gos plane of Qi; yet none of those held a candle to what was before him. A stable void archway with flickering lights that tore at Maroc’s sanity after a mere glance, all of it only held up by the will of the man hovering above it.
Sovereign Busari turned to face Maroc the moment the scouts’ eyes landed on him, his plain brown robes and skin poor indicators for the devastating level of power he wielded. The only sign Maroc could see of that was the pitch-black scar down his glabella which screamed with the mysteries of space and time. He was glad to have him on his side.
“Prepare your team Maroc, I can only hold open the portal for a minute.” The sovereign said in a calm voice before closing his eyes to meditate.
With a nod Maroc bowed to him, and then sunk himself into the significance realm to focus on his Image, a massive vortex of blood which hovered above a corrupted little girl. He grabbed at the mass of blood and tore out a single green chain formed out of green runes which he wrapped around his Image in a single movement.
Instantly Maroc’s affinity to the plane faded, and with it went his ability to sense the flow of energy of the world and people around him. It was a disorienting nauseas feeling which made most want to puke, but he was a professional, and so held himself steady enough to check on the three teammates who would be following his lead in the mission. They were steady and looking as deadly as the peak scouting force of the plane should look.
The trio were all covered in the same black scout armor that Maroc was wearing, though each suit was altered to match their combat style. The scout Natlee, with her pale grey skin and pink eyes, had a set of pink crystals lined along the outside of her armor. Her husband Yon had glass rivulets filled with dozens of different potions flowing along his armor, shining brightly alongside his deep orange hair and third eye. They were a pair of expert scouts, amongst the best in the realm. Arana had her familiar, a crystal spider, dug into her bald head and was carrying enough bombs on her suit to destroy a small town. Maroc himself had rivulets of half a dozen types of essence flowing around his armor, with blood being the strongest, matching his sanguine hair and eyes.
Once his stomach was stable, and he had received confirmation of readiness from his queasy teammates behind him, Maroc nodded towards Busari who with a grave smile and a wave of his hand sent the portal flying towards them.
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In a blink of an eye Maroc’s body was sacrificed and all that was left of him was his Image flying down an ocean of energy which battered against him. His consciousness dimmed and would have faded completely if not for him mustering up waves of significance from his core to block out the energies around him, the thin chain of runes matching his efforts to block out the constant attacks. Time soon turned meaningless in this endless struggle, with hours turning into minutes, and seconds into years. Conceptual eons passed in his voyage through the realms, but eventually time did return and Maroc could think again as his drifting Image finally arrived at his destination.
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Maroc collapsed onto the ground heaving for breath, his black armored hands scratching at the floor under him. Waves of noise and feeling rushed at him, as his consciousness struggled to adapt back to reality. At first he tried to block everything out in a panic, but eventually he remembered his training and was able to control his emotions. Smothering his anxiety, Maroc slowly accepted each sense to be real. Touch, Sound, Taste… Pain.
Snapping his eyes open Maroc took in the scene around him. Vast metallic walls full of blue runes, a puddle of vomit, flashes of light, and a floating suit of plastic armor throwing out a blast of energy at his collapsed team.
Reacting instinctively Maroc flexed his will and turned a stream of red essence into a blood wave which rapidly flew towards the now defensive figure. Waves of light slammed into the wall with no result, the figure flowing backward in an ineffectual retreat, its speed doing nothing to save it from its body disintegrating in a crunch. The blood then twisted into a dome around the trio as Maroc turned with a grimace to face his teammates behind him.
Natlee and Yon were both wincing in pain, their armor having been burnt in several places. Arana was fine, though that was mostly due to her familiar having woven a web of crystal silk around her the moment she landed. She was fully focused on the runes all over the floor, barely paying attention to the dome of blood around her. Maroc turned to Natlee, who straightened under his gaze.
“Report.” He barked out.
“We landed at the same time you did sir. We just felt a wave of lasers and got attacked. Seems we were unlucky enough to land in one of their bases.” Natlee answered.
“I wouldn’t say unlucky.” Said Arana tapping a few runes with her fingers. “It seems that they have managed to master Spatial travel at a much higher level than we have. They are able to create anchors that drag any driftless teleports to them.”
“What don’t I get is why there was only one weak guard defending such an important location? The figure couldn’t have been higher than a Doyen in power.” Yon asked, spraying a bit of pink potion over the burns of the others as he did so, the liquid quickly healing the burns on their faces.
“Likely because most untethered teleports come from some novice who has no idea what he is doing. They did not plan for invaders.” Arana said.
“Their reasoning doesn’t matter, what we need to focus on is gathering information.” Maroc said and lowered his dome to glare at the silver doorway which was half open after being blasted by his blood. “Natlee, go explore and see if you can’t dig into the mind of someone around here.”
“Yes sir.” She said and with a shimmer turned into a barely visible blob that slipped out of the room. The work of her dead chameleon familiar, a useful bond ability for a scout.
With the scout gone, the team took the chance to set up some defenses. Maroc turned the dome into a layer of crystalline blood armor. Arana threw out a couple multicolored plates at the doorway. And Yon set himself up directly in front of the door, which turned to be a mistake as after a few minutes a massive explosion tore it to pieces which slammed into the alchemist in a blast that sent him flying.
A stream of armored figures identical to the initial guard poured into the room, each sending out dozens of green lasers which were absorbed by Maroc’s instinctual blood dome. In retaliation Arana activated the scattered plates to form a tsunami which swept them out in a tidal wave of force. Yet that only temporarily stopped the enemy who quickly sent another group of figures to charge in.
“Watch the friendly fire, you could hurt Natlee!” screamed Yon who sent out a stream of deep orange potion onto the floor, which quickly turned into a lumbering golem of corrupted energy, whose very presence radiated Abyssal screams. Without any further prompting from Yon, it started smashing the armor around them, it’s every hit turning an enemy into more energy.
“Clear the space, and charge forward! We need to get out of this room and figure out the situation!” Maroc yelled out and sent a wave of blood forward which turned into a series of crystal spikes that shattered a dozen armored figures, and blocked all the lasers they sent out.
With the three of them cooperating they were able to clear enough of a space that they could reach outside. Instantly they were floored as they entered an auditorium filled with hundreds of beings stepping through half a dozen twenty-meter-tall portals which led to four other planes. A massive floating fortress, a sea of magma, an ocean of light, and the back of a sea creature huge enough to swallow continents. Every being in the auditorium was covered in some sort of armor, and wielding either a pistol or some sort of green barrier as they all turned to face the now surrounded scouts. Maroc dearly wished he had his significance sense to tell how strong they were but even just based off the vague pressure he felt he knew they were likely fucked.
“There’s Natlee!” Yon yelled, pointing at a group of armor-clad beings surrounding her, each shooting out beams of green or black from their guns and armors. That wouldn’t have been a problem seeing how half of them were glowing pink and shooting at each other, with Natlee weaving in and out of their reach with a razor-sharp whip tearing through their defenses. The trouble came from a man covered in liquid silver who was sending out waves of azure light which shattered her hold on the men, and beams of green energy which easily tore through the reactionary shield her armor sent out and was slicing through her material suit. The man was casually destroying a Paragon, one equipped with the best armor and weapons the plane could afford. Sure, Natlee may have been an intellect specialist, but that changed nothing. This man was above their weight class.
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“A Sovereign.” Maroc murmured with a grimace. “I’ll go stall him; you guys prepare to escape while I send Natlee over. Hopefully she managed to rip out some information from someone’s mind.”
Maroc took a breath, and with a force of will called out his familiar. Vortex, the blood elemental, formed around him and turned into a massive crystal golem. He lumbered forward and carelessly used huge portions of his armors essence reservoir to turn into massive fleshy blades which slammed into the armored figures around the sovereign before exploding into waves of flames that charred the sovereigns silver armor.
Taking the opportunity presented Natlee sprinted towards him, her whip flashing as she killed anyone in her way, her speed allowing her to quickly return to the room they had just fought their way out of. That was one situation done, now he just had to stall a planar level threat.
A ripple of silver healed the charred armor of the leader who with a contemptuous gesture sent out a wave of green light to shatter the flames covering his body, and flash towards the golem to burrow into Maroc’s armor.
Vortex screamed with a pain that echoed back to Maroc through their bond, tears freely fell from his face, and deep desperation formed within him as he realized he would have to sacrifice a lot more if he was to win this battle. It was time to pull out the guns.
Maroc ordered Vortex to dodge and weave the figures attacks as best as he could before sinking back into his body and activating his ascension ability. Maroc called upon the memory filled of self-hatred and humiliation of him murdering his parents, of having to stand trial in front of his sister, of being ordered to fight for the Zhaber family for ten years as punishment. He then poured that emotion into his blood and burnt it, rapidly thinning his reservoir which was constantly being replenished by his familiar. Eventually Maroc had sacrificed enough blood that his armor was now full of energy again, except this time it was the red of hate and blood.
Turning back to the sovereign, Maroc saw that Vortex had burnt through half his mass in its dodging efforts, and so he told him to condense back into a smaller shape and send him hurtling back. As Vortex did so, Maroc wielded his Image to crush down on the newly created well of energy, turning it into a dozen balls of blood covered in faces screaming in anger and desperation.
Throwing the balls forward, they slammed into the green barrier the sovereign summoned, and at the cost of half their number pushed through to hit the silver figure. Massive mouths formed out of the balls, grinding down on the armor to no avail. A number of scratches formed, only to be immediately healed. Yet Maroc expected no more. To think he could kill a Sovereign with only his one law would be foolish, he could only hope to hold one back for a few seconds. And he did.
“Maroc, problem!” Arana screamed behind him, making him turn to see her throwing a dozen bombs of rainbow light at a figure covered in dull gold armor who was letting out waves of black light from their body which turned into thousands of chains shooting towards the other scouts.
Another Sovereign, and from what Maroc could tell this one was likely at Fina’s level, which meant she was capable of destroying cities. The only reason Maroc could think that she hadn’t instantly killed them was because they were in what seemed to be their hall of portals. With her joining there was no chance of success. It was time for a final stand.
“Wait! Don’t do anything just yet. It seems they want to capture us and throw us into a dungeon.” Natlee sent into his mind along with a wave of peaceful emotion that calmed his anxiety. “If we can hold on for at least a day, I’m sure we can manage to escape. Just let yourself be captured.”
“Got it, tell the others the same.” Maroc answered as he retracted Vortex back into his blood stream and pulled back a few blood balls to form into shields around him.
Yon and Arana started blowing through all their armaments, sending out waves of potions and incredible amounts of magitech at the chains snapping towards them. They managed to hold them back for just long enough for each to throw their familiars into various portals. Before they could do anything else the gold sovereign snapped out a hand and the chains instantly doubled in size and crashed around them. They were immediately captured, with their armor destroyed. Natlee than feinted forward to the silver sovereign and managed to send her whip to cut a deep edge into his armor before she was caught by the chains.
Then it was only Maroc, who could feel his blood burning with hate at the scene in front of him. It was only Natlee’s reminder that they might be able survive that kept him stable. He threw a wave of screaming spheres at the two sovereigns, and in a bust of pettiness he burnt through the rest of the essence in his armor and sent it slamming into the portal frame behind him, destroying it. The moment he ran out of energy the chains snapped around him, and before he could even think of resisting a stream of energy dug into his mind and sent him unconscious.
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Maroc woke with a gasp as his heart was squeezed by Vortex, who was doing its best to wake him. Quickly thanking him, Maroc cracked open his eyes and bewilderedly stared at the scene in front of him.
He was trapped in a windowless steel room completely covered in runes shining a mind-bending navy blue. Every inch of his body was held down by a seamless steel body suit, with only his head left open. He was facing a door that was made of deep black crystal which hummed with an ominous noise that kept trying to send his mind to sleep, only to be blocked by some energy in his brain.
“You’re awake finally. I’ve been holding this ward for the last ten minutes. I don’t have much more energy left.” Natlee’s strained voice whispered into his mind.
“Where– “
“We don’t have enough time to chat, so just listen. They have thirty sovereigns and a Mythos level being. They are a space race who have not yet discovered how to absorb laws but have grown deeply fascinated with our ability to do so. They intend to fully invade within thirty years their time, which is when all of their peak level beings will be free. They have infiltrated deep into our society, with the only reason they haven’t taken over parts of our government is Qrumin and our Sovereigns…” Natlee rattled on for a minute, each second sending Maroc into a greater panic at the impossibility of their situation.
“What the fuck are we supposed to do now, these are impossible odds.” Maroc hissed into the silent room.
“That’s not for us to worry about, we just have to report it. Anyway, you need to get out of here, and escape back to the plane to tell the rest.” Natlee said with an eerily calm voice. “They are going to interrogate me soon, and they can’t discover what knowledge we have. Only reason they have waited this long is because the Mythos creature will soon arrive. The others are still asleep, and I have just enough energy to shatter our minds so that they can’t discover anything. All you must do is escape. They don’t know about the molar implant, or your blood burning, so you are our only hope to salvage this mission.”
Maroc’s mind ran through dozens of scenarios in seconds, and quickly realized she was right. The others had no method of wielding their powers without essence, he could tell the only reason Natlee could was because she was shredding her mind to do so. He would have to escape on his own.
“Alright, do you know which way I should go?”
“Not the door, go straight back. I can feel a dozen entities near you, so be careful.” Natlee’s voice rattled off professionally before it broke at the last second. “And when you get back can you do me one favor?”
“Anything.”
“Take care of Darvon for us would you? He is only thirteen, I don’t know what he’ll do without me and Yon. The rest of the family practically abandoned us after we took on so many deadly missions.” Natlee sent with a shaking voice.
“Of course, and tell the others I’m sorry. Their sacrifice won’t be in vain." Maroc sent back with more confidence then he felt. "Now I need to focus, good luck Natlee.”
Maroc shut out Natlee and connected to Vortex who was casually swimming around in his blood. Okay, little buddy it’s time to act. With a small pull the elemental snapped out from his pores and smashed with incredible force into the steel suit around him, which briefly shone with a deep blue glow before shattering. Letting out a sigh at escaping the constraints Maroc stepped out and ignored the feeling of someone watching him through the runes on the wall in favor of sending all of the helplessness and rage at the situation into his blood. Soon his body was filled with a boiling stream of emotions which he sacrificed to turn into a battering ram that slammed into the wall behind him in an explosion of steel.
Behind the wall was a series of steel beams a dozen meters deep, each glowing with a blue light which shone brighter as Maroc drove a drill of blood through them. He covered himself with Vortex in crystal form and floated forward on streams of blood, constantly trying to activate the molar in his mouth but failing as the runes around him glowed brighter. It was only when his drill found air that it activated, sending a flicker of black light around him.
“Fifteen seconds, mark.” Maroc muttered to himself as he took in the sight before him. He was floating above a massive city formed out of steel and glass, millions of people near him flying in suits of armor with thousands of beautiful vehicles merged along with them. It was a futuristic metropolis which he would make sure to make note of for his report, though that seemed pretty insignificance compared to what was above it. An entrance into some twisting blue energy realm whose very sight tore at his sanity, it was overwhelming and only grew more so when a cloud of energy fell from it to fly towards him at insane speeds, its speed matched by five gold and silver armors of varying shapes and sizes. It was the Mythos level being.
“Zenith.” Maroc mumbled and with a scream of power dashed downwards. “Five seconds is all I need, come on Maroc.”
Powerful bolts of energy started flying down from the figures above, each strong enough to shatter a building and kill thousands. Dozens flew by every second, Maroc dodging them by the skin of his teeth, each second a battle for survival that he was barely winning. Then one hit him.
Vortex’s body shrunk down to wisps, the blood stream powering his flight disappeared, and massive burn marks covered his body. A terrifying pain filled his mind as the energy tore into him, forcing him to burn through more of his nearly empty blood to block. That single blast had almost killed him, yet still Maroc smiled for a second after it hit he disappeared in a flash of black light.
Mission accomplished.