Thursday, August 4, 2022

The Uplift Protocol The Ouroborous Chain: Issue 1

Issue 1: Stars Upon the Surface

Alpha Fleet Actual...are you seeing this?! Void Walkers are engaging each other!--Scout Missive 10-532

My dear daughter. Oh if you only knew. I shall treasure the look upon your face.--Chronos

There are times when I find myself at a loss for words. No one deserved that fate. No one. Not even my worst enemies. Abbadon’s selfishness pales in comparison to Chronos. --Sleeping in Starlight [Senior Arcane Order Clearance requested]

Mirror Sector

Chronos’ Null Sacrament Vessel “Demiurge”

June 20th, 3266

    Chronos positioned his ships.

    Fighting tooth and nail. Just the way his dear daughter would want. In all the world, in every Universe, there was good. There was evil. Then there was Ascendance. The fabric of Creation laid outside of the normal realms of Ouros. Hells. Hades. Elysiums. Heaven. That had been his goal from the start. Unity had been useful towards that goal. He would take all the power. From the Thronebearers, Abbadon, Unity, The Highest. They sprang from that infinite beyond all measure.

    The trick was one had to possess them all to see the tapestry unfold. What gave birth to the Highest and Abbadon? That was the being that Chronos had his gaze on. Noah had no chance. He would die a final death to which even his vaunted Initial Cycle soul stone had no recourse. In that blaze? Chronos would be reborn.

    He gazed out at the endless hoards at the gate, “Let them come.”

    His hands stilled over one particular display readout, “Ahh. So they have come to dance.”

    Arcane and Unseen. Hand in Hand. Sheer folly. He sent the signal.

    Forms flooded the space around his fleet.

    “Go feast my children. One last meal before Ascension.”

    Within each wound? An Ouroborous.

    She would learn. He was unending. He sent one last message to Nyx.

    ///Join me when I set foot upon the soil of the Infinite.///

    Her response was swift.

    ///As you will it. We shall see the face of the Over-soul of All.///

    Hilary howled. Her eyes ablaze. “I see you old man!” She pounded her fists on the blunt metallic ring of her control chair. Her black within black orbs drank it all in. Thin needles peirced her flesh as the accelerator entered her system. She cared not about the pitiable humans or their magic imbued fleet. Her father’s aura sputtered and winked out. She angled her ship’s trajectory to match his.

    “A feast of bones!”

    The potent scent of burning flesh hit.

    Hilary tossed the wreckage aside. This would be a one way trip.

    I dove between the shattered hulls. The rest of the fleet poised in Weave Space to join at my signal. Phase 2. The turning point but my brother and the Highest had been close lipped of late. My father gestured towards the Ark. <<Quickly!>>

    His outline shimmered. Magic to withstand my outrageous flight speed. I took hold of him. As we reached the outer hull of Noah’s Ark, the branches extended. Their life barriers allowed us entry. Voices rose. Alarm beacons resounded. My heart plummeted. A countdown! I shook my head. No. I would not let them die. Not while I had breath in my body.

    Comet’s array linked into my HUD, <<GO! The timer→>

    Time slowed. Dad’s bracers! Runes I couldn’t decipher circled.

    << iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissssssssss….>>

    I found them in the main control hub. I reached out to wrap my arms around Noah and Comet. They had both suffered enough in the grand scheme of things. What was one more explosion to escape from? My left arm twitched. I sucked in a breath. The Thronebearer word for “rest” lulled me into a gentle sleep. I understood immediately. Soul Shards were not my dominion.

    Noah watched as the timer hit 05. The bright red lettering brought him a sense of peace. His eyes closed. This was worthy of his soul shard. The last remaining piece of….

    A light touch on his forehead made him jerk away. Surprise crossed his features as he opened his eyes to a bright panorama of a bustling cityscape. At the height of its glory. Each building a tower of white flame. A woman turned. Held out her hand, “Welcome home.”

    Fine porcelain features. Heart shaped face. Hair as bright as starlight.

    He only managed one word in response. “Mother….”

    I took control of my sister.

    When we were kids? I used to walk around the house to get a sense of her reality. While she was unconscious. My parents always thought it had been sleep walking episodes. I had to be careful. Unlike flesh stealers of Abbadon’s caliber? I had to have cooperation.

    By sharing arms? Made the process easier. Both ways. That was the trade off. But what she didn't know wouldn't expose the plan when that knife fell. For it was not a knife. Not truly. Prophecy can be made to reflect anything. The enemy knew this. But so did we. I sent Noah ahead. To a place where he could live in peace. Beyond the corruption of the Night Realm. What Abbadon was supposed to be. A shepherd for the dead. So that the soul shards could rest before the next reincarnation. The next cycles.

    I didn’t need the Night Realm. In layman’s terms? Eliza and I would be the instruments to cleanse that dimension for good. A hard reboot.

    My role had always been paramount. Unseen. Unremarked. Unnoticed.

    I guard the memories that Eliza is never allowed to touch.

    Dominion reached the honeycombed central hub. Her father turned. She stopped short. Gone was the wiry thin musculature. His body was riddled with scars. One circle on his forehead. One along his abdomen. Three on each arm. He held his arms wide open. “Welcome Home.”

    She raised the pistol stolen from A51 so long ago. It bucked in her hands.

    Her smirk of triumph disappeared. He had not attempted to dodge. The specialized ammunition struck true. Chronos went rigid as the immobilizer took affect. Dominion commanded her drones to move ahead. No traps greeted them. Just the Director’s inert form. She scanned for biohazards on his person. Nothing. Only the slow decay of his vitals.

    She triple checked the room. No sigils. No resonances. Her eyes narrowed.

    What was his game?

    She sealed off the room.

    Dominion spat on the floor. “Good riddance.”

    Chronos felt the tremors as Brood forces disconnected the room from the main ship. It was of no particular consequence. The transfer was already underway. He had shown the All-Father a key to soul shard dissolution. But only one part. One never told the whole formula. Perfected across the vast cycles.

    Eons of patient harvesting.

    Hilary herself only knew what she was allowed to steal from his vast stores of knowledge. It had been so easy as Micheal Brookes to plant the initial designs back in the 1940s. To claim that a squad of heroic marines had taken down the “Sky Gods” of the Iron Order with a certain mixture of projectile components. Those who served the Highest would have cross examined any weapon systems designed by Brookes after a certain period. He had counted on that. It would hurt his kind.

    Oh yes. The transfer would start as a simple headache. One cured by medicines on hand.

    The clone in question would have no idea.

    The “gun” had done its work.

    Projectiles could work both ways. A bridge across time and space.

    Soul shard transference required the total death of the host body. A cycle he had repeated endlessly. Not even Nyx knew of it. As it was? He had become accustomed to killing himself over the eons.

    Mixing his clones with other species had allowed for accelerated growth.

    They would think him dead.


    Allowing them independence added to his overall experience. He would have to recapture Father Brookes. To think! What would he learn of the enemy? His “daughter’s” vendetta against the Banner would bear fruit.

    Beyond the Bone Throne?

    Eternity awaited.

Prologue: Here

Issue 2: Here

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