TheBipBoop2003
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61. Knitting the Divideds
🕑 Added 2024-11-14 20:55:14 +0000 UTCThinning an elegant string of darkness in its purest, most primal form between my clawed fingers, I directed my gaze at my kin brothers, sisters, and niece. My other myself has finished our part of the contract with the infant Lumen of Light and rejoined me.
And these were quite the unconventional wishes, to say the least, aside from the second, the secret of the arcane and the universe. It was something even the dullest of Ork would have desired to possess at some point. It was akin to asking for infinite power.
Funny. It was near impossible to obtain, and since El Shaddai kept his mind relatively quiet–his budding divinity blinding me enough to stop most of my passive gleaming–I didn't force myself in either. I was in the dark, and it would spoil the fun,
I doubted a deeper hidden purpose beyond having me be an encyclopedia he could contact when the necessity arose, and I was able and willing. I controlled the flow. Not that I had any problem with that; a bit of entertainment never hurt.
I had the obligation to answer what he wished, but the how, where, and when were for me to decide unless El Shaddai specified otherwise, which he didn't. From there, a wish was a destination, not the myriad paths to walk toward its finalization.
But the first and last were fascinating.
The first wish regarding protecting Humanity until it was ready was what I would have done aside from my protective veil being lifted the moment humans reached the budding stage of the second stage of civilization by controlling the Sol System.
I wonder what he is planning. There are countless possibilities, but I would bet on a mago-technological empire. A societal system he would need help to support, maintain, and rule. It tied to his third wish. At least for me, I cared little for what he had in mind beyond making it interesting and worthwhile. Oh, and most importantly, that it didn't end with humans going extinct.
This wish was shockingly cute, and many would deem it a heresy of the highest order with how ridiculous it sounded and what a waste it was. And they wouldn't be wholly wrong in their observation.
However, wishing for an understanding of the ‘Human condition’ remained agreeable. What was ridiculous was having the audacity to want this without having to actually lower oneself permanently. It didn't help me take him seriously, and why I didn't see a problem in being a bit of an asshole.
It was an absolute necessity to understand how a human could actually be human. My memories may be shattered fragments, but I understood mortality; it was a near-impossible wish from my little light.
It was genius in its madness. He or they–from the many he once was–sacrificed their combined humanities to become what he was. It had been an obligatory step to obtain a cognizant individual with the adequate soul, body, and mind trifecta.
Well, in truth, there was an easy answer to that. I could go and seal his mind, soul, and body to falsify a mortal existence from newborn to death, but that was boring and ultimately useless. To make it work, permanent damage and alteration needed to be done. Or complete mind control, but I naturally despised this affront to free will, and it went against one of the rules I set up.
Getting El in a bit of his own family was one of the best ways to make him understand humans, quite like what he did in an alternate future that will never come to pass. I wasn't blind to him being the equivalent of the Emperor; he was the closest to that, even if it hadn't been my intention. It was an amusing coincidence.
It never would be perfect–a meaningless word in and of itself–but his wishes weren't absolute since neither was I. I wasn't limitless.
But I have a plan forming in my mind that would bridge my little light demand into an acceptable and entertaining result. An excellent plan that would entertain me for the next dozen millennia and beyond. Nothing nefarious, of course. I was mischievous, not evil, and I didn't desire true harm upon him.
Overall, it went smoothly, and I was satisfied with the result. He did not disappoint, even if my expectations weren't very high or normal by any metric that mattered.
While a part of my mind was pondering on those three wishes, I listened to the response regarding my plan relating to the fate of our little godly family.
Nothing remarkable, really. I wished for peace and stability, a far simpler goal than any of El Shaddai's wishes.
“Ah, let's do our greeting with the axe of animation, just in case, you said… Indeed, you are a great diplomat, my King.” Cegorach quipped sarcastically at a part of my plan regarding the fate of the other half of our family.
“Compared to Khaine, I'm. For all intents and purposes, we must act with the consideration that they desire our destruction. It's an extreme, but I prefer prevention over destruction and healing.” I drawled, and he chuckled, his head spinning around. He was the Jester of my court, and his role was vital. He was to challenge me, to spark conflict, and to break patterns.
Cegorach wasn't a mere clown to be laughed at, but it wasn't him who let out the answer that followed.
“It is sound and logical to proceed through this plan, Hoopa, I agree.” Kurnous sighed, “It is saddening, but the truth remains unwavering unless there is a wish to be under the care of my Consort… if survival is possible, which is unlikely. Our pious brother of the blade wouldn't be up to the way of hearing our words of peace, but he would delight at listening to our dying wails of despair. We must be prepared for the worst and expect even worse.”
“In the end, the Fate of this reunion is within the palms of Morai-Heg's hands,” Lileath added with a hint of defeatedness. It wasn't at the prospect of a loss, however. The Goddess of Dream didn't want a war, nothing more, nothing less, and I agreed, but… reality unfortunately relegated to those matters seldom proceeded as desired.
I would say Life was a bitch, but Isha didn't deserve to be called that.
“Palm and hand,” The Great Harlequin astutely corrected, “If and if only our theory relating to the divinely infused blades is correct.”
A simple hypothesis relating the highest possibility of where those five were from the tricephalic Goddess. Hypothetically, she conceptually sacrificed part of her existence. With Vaul, she crafted those weapons numbering to five like the finger of a hand… or the toes and feet she would have amputated and used as raw materials.
But as amusing the thought was, Morai-Heg wouldn't have chosen anything but a hand. It held greater symbolism, and it honestly probably never crossed her mind.
“We are of one mind then?” I queried and earned nods and words of affirmation. Great. I love it when things go together.
“Excellent then, now let's proceed forward.” I declared, standing up from my throne, and the four Aeldari Gods and Goddesses followed suit from theirs’. They were their original thrones, but they were a bit scuffed from the Celestian Enclave explosion caused by my failed reformation into Slaanesh, but they were still usable.
I lifted the hands that had been playing with the string of purified darkness and tied the tip into an elegant knot at the center of the pentagram I invoked.
It was to be noted that the frog bitch had created us with the capacity to seamlessly function as one–a team of the highest order–a talent we had abused at every possible opportunity. It was how Khaine had been so powerful when he shouldn't have been stabbing me and fending off the combined effort of the three Demonic Cancers to protect me. It wasn't his might alone he wielded.
It was how the War in Heaven was won despite my treachery, hidden as a sacrifice for the greater good. We didn't fight fair, and we mastered the art of selfless teamwork, something that was alien to the C'tan.
Anyway, the spell I was weaving was with that purpose in mind. It was a poor version of the Zenith Dominion, but it would amply suffice against Khaine and Asuryan.
The dark string, then following my will, unraveled into five even thinner threads. Extending a hand, I beckoned Isha to go first. The Goddess of Love grabbed the thread of darkness in her dainty fingers and invoked her divine symbol–a crying eye–she tied my magic to it, creating a positive feedback loop between us. Cegorach followed after that with his own, and then it was Kurnous's turn who tersely did, and ultimately, it was little Lileath.
From the strongest in a decreasing order.
Once this little ritual was done, I opened a portal to our destination, and I threw a ball of black chains within. Pleased with a lack of reaction–potential traps of Vaul and a lack of any immediate danger–I opened a second portal; this time, the ring massively expanded until it could fit all of us together and some more.
I floated through the portal, and without worded order, the four of my kin followed. The other side was the confines of Elgra'telweue, one of the key artificial fortress worlds of the Labyrinthine Dimension built to support a Golden Gate and control the area.
It was a vast structure of wraithbone and psychically inclined technology averaging in size that of a small Craftworld. They possessed their cities, farmlands, and subcultures. Thanks to the evacuation now, none of it was present or of use, but it was a temporary setback.
The sound of wings beating snapped me out of my observation. Lileath was airborne, her bow in hand and the string of pearly light held with three infernal arrows of nightmare ready to be drawn. She turned to us and spoke.
“I will scout the perime-” She couldn't finish her sentence when a serrated blade oozing blood and hellfire appearing out of a fissure in time perforated her heart. A blood-curdling scream escaped her mother's lungs, a morbid sight, and she was the first to act.
Her spear was held straight at the head of Khaine, exiting the fissure in reality from which he must have been awaiting our coming.
“How considerate of you, my elder brother, to welcome us in person,” I said grandly to the massive God in burning bronze armor glaring at me with a murderer in his big ol eyeball of molten stones.
He was angry, pissed off, I might say, and the way he batted the blade of the Merciful Mother and directly slapped her like a fly with such force and speed no creature that wasn't divine would even perceive it spoke volumes. Her momentum would have carried her thousands of clicks away without a quick portal nearby.
“Betrayer…” He called, barely restrained rage in his voice, “Betrayer… BETRAYER! YOU ALL ARE BETRAYERS!! TRAITORS, LOWLY FILTHS OF THE EARTH AND HEAVEN!”
Kurnous didn't fare any better as he did to a reckless charge of his own in retaliation to his Consort. His staff was held dramatically high, but it had no uses. His brave effort earned him the mirage of a punch in the face–turning his jaw into pulverized godly mush–and a dreadful armored hand with talons in the abdomen bursting from his back in a gory shower.
“NOOOO!” Isha wailed, raw despair and terror in her voice. Tears akin to constellations trailed down her cheeks. Gone was the motherly kindness and love; only remaining was the grief, tragedy, and destruction of a once hopeful Goddess now throwing her very existence into the deathly crucible to avenge her fallen daughter and husband.
What a sight. This time, it wasn't only a slap; Khaine also awarded her. A gift in the form of a pillar of liquified searing bronze engulfed her neck and head, halting her charge with little effort.
She flailed, screamed, and cried in vain. The burning bronze evaporated her tears as it crawled over her face, forever disfiguring. Her blonde hair turned to ash, leaving a welting scalp. Her healthy pink blemishless skin slowly melted off, showing the fat, muscles, and bone underneath. Her eyes popped out, and the new openings like her nose, ears, and mouth were drowned in the molten slag.
What a sight indeed.
“He is… disappointing, even for him,” Cegorach stated matter of factly to my side where Isha, Lileath, and Kurnous, all in perfect condition stood with varying degrees of discomfort for the two Goddesses.
“Khaine was never the cleverest,” Isha added sulfuric acid to the open wound, and I chuckled.
“He is an attack dog; he knows how to bite, but that is the extent of his limited talent pool and mental capacity. And he lost his master… as he currently is, he is no better than a rabid animal.” I trailed off, observing the two remaining–Hoopa and Cegorach–jumping at him and getting ripped apart in a show no less graphic than Isha's.
It was fascinating to observe, if a bit sad that the God of Slaughter didn't get it yet that he was fighting falsehood and lies. It meant Morai-Heg wasn't helping him, however, or he wasn't listening. They made an excellent duo for that reason, he was the muscle, attacker, and tank and she was the brain and support.
Even with Asuryan blessing him with boundless energy and Vaul's armaments, he lacked the critical part of his strength; a tactical mind.
“He needs to be chained, or put down, and the second is unacceptable.” And that's what unfolded after the words left my fanged maw. Our ‘corpses ’ detonated one by one, and from these sudden explosions appeared dark chains cumulative in their totality to six hundred and sixty-six.
Khaine would have been able to dodge under any other circumstances, but he was too close to them. His ability to think was limited, to begin with, and now it was impaired further by his rage-fueled, and the booby-trapped puppets of the Great Harlequin were strewn in a way that perfectly encircled him. There weren't any more techniques done and redone by Cegorach and me, but they always worked.
The Bloody Handed God tried to resist, and his efforts were in vain in a reversal of the beat down he did to the false us. Chains locked on his wrists, feet, neck, chest, shoulders, and head, and the horned helmets aggravated his predicament to unprecedented heights.
I gestured to Cegorach to stop the illusion hiding us and my smile grew wider at the widening eyes of Khaine. There must be a lot going on in his head, but I wasn't going to torture him.
“Go to sleep.” I intoned tightening the chains, sealing away his power in them, and forcefully pulling him into stasis by plucking precise strings of his soul.
“That was… simple. Too simple.” Lileath let out with a frown gently kicking the puppet that had represented her.
“You are correct, my niece. My Consort's survival depends on this, as does mine, Vaul and Asuryan.” Three feminine voices, one young, one elderly, and one between both spoke aloud in unison from behind us.
I turned around, my eyes traveling to the missing arm, then higher to nine other than the Crone herself, the Aeldari Goddess of Fate. It was a pleasant surprise and explained a lot, though one thing needed to be asked.
“It has been a long time, Morai-Heg. Where is Asuryan?”
“Asuryan? He is alive-” The oldest one chuckled darkly, “-but I revoked the right of his crown‐” the middle-aged added, and the youngest finished dramatically, “-for only one King is worthy of its authority, you my King.”
Then she kneeled, fully anchoring herself in the present at her most vulnerable.
‘That's how it is then.’ I thought and tilted my eyes toward hers and said with finality, “Let us not be enemies, Morai-Heg; let us rebuild and heal from the rubble and ash of the past. The choice is yours.”
“I wholeheartedly accept, oh Dark King.” Her three heads bowed, and my grin grew even higher, “Then let us continue.”
Comments
BLazeSavage
Well yeah, I don’t see how the goddess of fate would look negatively at being freed from direct control over herself. 😁
