One day following the Astranagant's departure from the Swordian...
"Let's get a move on."
EATER Velvet sprung down the verdant cliff, turning her head back quizzically at the two guests. An accord of some sorts had, for the moment, been reached. If Volhazard wasn't stopped, the man in the black machine had said, all would be in great peril. Whether she trusted his words or not... for the moment, at least, their objectives aligned.
"We don't know how far along Volhazard's ritual is. It could be-"
She paused suddenly, as if uncertain. Everything seemed... quiet. But, why? Her answer came immediately, as in the distance a bolt of light erupted from the Stone Circle, smashing up into the sky, so bright it illuminated the entire interior of the Swordian. At the sight of it... She felt her blood run cold.
Were they too late?
Artificial Stone Circile
"Hahahaha! HAAA HA HA HA HA HA!"
The bull-like, snorting laughter of Volhazard filled the air. None were here to share his triumph - nor would he have desired their company. Illuminated by the light of the brilliant cosmos, the tusked EATER beat his chest, smoke billowing from his mouth before he stretched his arms high, high into the sky. The promised deliverance was nigh, just as that masked prophet had decreed!
Everything would return, back to the land of beginnings! The world would be cleansed by its rightful owners, and he would be their messenger!
"See us, great ones! DELIVER US FROM THIS WRETCHED COIL!"
As the beam brightened and intensified, Volhazard seemed to vanish into the light as it grew, sending shockwaves across the Swordian's interior and cracks slamming out from the epicenter, ripping into the floor.
Swordian Archive Room
"Hm... Yes. Everything seems to be in working order."
There was a sharp, metallic crunch as the server hit the ground, sparks flying from its body. Black tendrils that had been stabbed into its surface relinquished their hold, snaking back across the polished floor to their master. Much of what was found here, Abramelin knew, the Directory would pay a king's ransom for a hundred thousand times over. The secrets of millenia, of entire people, all sealed away in just one of the vessel's alcoves.
"The experiment is proceeding... Exactly according to design."
He mused to himself aloud, as his fingers slid around the lock of a small, carefully crafted plexiglass container at the heart of the room. He took his time, in spite of the terrible rampaging and rattling all around him. True, his... assistance had accelerated that oaf's mad plot. He was as weary of the Guardians as any other - but by the time they would have his scent, or even figured out what he was attempting to do, it would be to their benefit to look the other way... or, such was his thinking.
"There is no need to be afraid." He muttered, pulling the item in question from its confines. The dark, jet-black book bound with clasps of iron was heavy in his hands - just as well, he thought, as it carried the weight of an entire life within its pages. Giving a dry chuckle, he placed it in the confines of his cloak to read later. It would need to be... returned... to its rightful owner, at some point.
Drawing a jagged, glowing sigil in the air with his free hand, a black rectangle pulsed into being across a nearby wall, as the Sorcerer strode through the gateway between worlds, leaving a wise man's fortune behind him as easily as if it were nothing but garbage, his own voice filling the familiar darkness as it enveloped him.
"This... is destiny."
Swordian Exterior
The beam of light surged out of the Swordian, flowing through and over its armor plates, punching up into the great void - and impacted something, some hidden vein of the cosmos that it turned and writhed against, as though it were a key in a colossal lock. The seconds ticked by, and after what felt like an eternity, it faded away, leaving nothing but the silence of the stars. But then-
Stars bent and churned to the casual viewer, space deforming and warping - yet, this was no crude forcing of the locks, as one would expect from a user of Dimensional Power. No, this was more... sophisticated. As though an entity were responding inquisitively to a knock on the door, how seamlessly, how effortlessly the gate opened wide over the Swordian.
It wasn't long before the first of the Guardians appeared. Its armored, hulking features pushed through the wall between worlds as if it were tissue paper, shrugging off the very fabric of reality as it gazed down. Who could tell what thoughts ran through its mind, or if even such a word were applicable to the processes of the entities that were collectively known in hushed circles as the Einst? Those who had birthed the stars, life, who had came before as the very first, and who would be the very last, turning out the lights on the day the universe ceased to exist?
At its bidding, the surface rippled and bent once more, as something truly massive began to emerge. A colossal gnarled arm, made of up knotted green and thick, heavy armor plates, as big as the Swordian itself, pushed itself through, dwarfing the Regisseur below in its scale. Silently, and certainly, it closed about the colossal space-colony, a trip of ropy "fingers" laced with glowing red cores, like hundreds of eyes, tensing as whatever lay beyond the gate began to pull.
Swordian Interior
A loud, mechanical voice boomed across the interior of the Swordian, emergency lighting turning the normally pale blue sky a bright red. Velvet crouched low as the ground rocked and rolled beneath her, hair-like tendril bobbing back and forth as she gripped the grass below.
"You've got to be kidding me!" She in disbelief, turning her head back to the other two as the light grew ever brighter. What lay ahead, only God knew - but, come what may, she was going to get them through it.
"Everyone, hang on!"
Swordian Exterior
As the last vestiges of the colony were dragged across the threshold, the Regisseur remained alone. Without even sparing the world of humanity a backward glance, it followed after its prize, the warp closing behind it as smoothly as if it had never existed, like the wink of a massive cat's eye.
"Let's get a move on."
EATER Velvet sprung down the verdant cliff, turning her head back quizzically at the two guests. An accord of some sorts had, for the moment, been reached. If Volhazard wasn't stopped, the man in the black machine had said, all would be in great peril. Whether she trusted his words or not... for the moment, at least, their objectives aligned.
"We don't know how far along Volhazard's ritual is. It could be-"
She paused suddenly, as if uncertain. Everything seemed... quiet. But, why? Her answer came immediately, as in the distance a bolt of light erupted from the Stone Circle, smashing up into the sky, so bright it illuminated the entire interior of the Swordian. At the sight of it... She felt her blood run cold.
Were they too late?
Artificial Stone Circile
"Hahahaha! HAAA HA HA HA HA HA!"
The bull-like, snorting laughter of Volhazard filled the air. None were here to share his triumph - nor would he have desired their company. Illuminated by the light of the brilliant cosmos, the tusked EATER beat his chest, smoke billowing from his mouth before he stretched his arms high, high into the sky. The promised deliverance was nigh, just as that masked prophet had decreed!
Everything would return, back to the land of beginnings! The world would be cleansed by its rightful owners, and he would be their messenger!
"See us, great ones! DELIVER US FROM THIS WRETCHED COIL!"
As the beam brightened and intensified, Volhazard seemed to vanish into the light as it grew, sending shockwaves across the Swordian's interior and cracks slamming out from the epicenter, ripping into the floor.
Swordian Archive Room
"Hm... Yes. Everything seems to be in working order."
There was a sharp, metallic crunch as the server hit the ground, sparks flying from its body. Black tendrils that had been stabbed into its surface relinquished their hold, snaking back across the polished floor to their master. Much of what was found here, Abramelin knew, the Directory would pay a king's ransom for a hundred thousand times over. The secrets of millenia, of entire people, all sealed away in just one of the vessel's alcoves.
"The experiment is proceeding... Exactly according to design."
He mused to himself aloud, as his fingers slid around the lock of a small, carefully crafted plexiglass container at the heart of the room. He took his time, in spite of the terrible rampaging and rattling all around him. True, his... assistance had accelerated that oaf's mad plot. He was as weary of the Guardians as any other - but by the time they would have his scent, or even figured out what he was attempting to do, it would be to their benefit to look the other way... or, such was his thinking.
"There is no need to be afraid." He muttered, pulling the item in question from its confines. The dark, jet-black book bound with clasps of iron was heavy in his hands - just as well, he thought, as it carried the weight of an entire life within its pages. Giving a dry chuckle, he placed it in the confines of his cloak to read later. It would need to be... returned... to its rightful owner, at some point.
Drawing a jagged, glowing sigil in the air with his free hand, a black rectangle pulsed into being across a nearby wall, as the Sorcerer strode through the gateway between worlds, leaving a wise man's fortune behind him as easily as if it were nothing but garbage, his own voice filling the familiar darkness as it enveloped him.
"This... is destiny."
Swordian Exterior
The beam of light surged out of the Swordian, flowing through and over its armor plates, punching up into the great void - and impacted something, some hidden vein of the cosmos that it turned and writhed against, as though it were a key in a colossal lock. The seconds ticked by, and after what felt like an eternity, it faded away, leaving nothing but the silence of the stars. But then-
Stars bent and churned to the casual viewer, space deforming and warping - yet, this was no crude forcing of the locks, as one would expect from a user of Dimensional Power. No, this was more... sophisticated. As though an entity were responding inquisitively to a knock on the door, how seamlessly, how effortlessly the gate opened wide over the Swordian.
It wasn't long before the first of the Guardians appeared. Its armored, hulking features pushed through the wall between worlds as if it were tissue paper, shrugging off the very fabric of reality as it gazed down. Who could tell what thoughts ran through its mind, or if even such a word were applicable to the processes of the entities that were collectively known in hushed circles as the Einst? Those who had birthed the stars, life, who had came before as the very first, and who would be the very last, turning out the lights on the day the universe ceased to exist?
". . ."
The Einst Regisseur hung over the Swordian, as if in silent deliberation. At length, perhaps none too eager for the Guards to make their presence known, it raised a claw toward the gateway above, as if signaling it.
At its bidding, the surface rippled and bent once more, as something truly massive began to emerge. A colossal gnarled arm, made of up knotted green and thick, heavy armor plates, as big as the Swordian itself, pushed itself through, dwarfing the Regisseur below in its scale. Silently, and certainly, it closed about the colossal space-colony, a trip of ropy "fingers" laced with glowing red cores, like hundreds of eyes, tensing as whatever lay beyond the gate began to pull.
Swordian Interior
A loud, mechanical voice boomed across the interior of the Swordian, emergency lighting turning the normally pale blue sky a bright red. Velvet crouched low as the ground rocked and rolled beneath her, hair-like tendril bobbing back and forth as she gripped the grass below.
"You've got to be kidding me!" She in disbelief, turning her head back to the other two as the light grew ever brighter. What lay ahead, only God knew - but, come what may, she was going to get them through it.
"Everyone, hang on!"
Swordian Exterior
As the last vestiges of the colony were dragged across the threshold, the Regisseur remained alone. Without even sparing the world of humanity a backward glance, it followed after its prize, the warp closing behind it as smoothly as if it had never existed, like the wink of a massive cat's eye.
At last, their quarry had returned to them.