A poor sod got violently sucked in an ultra-dimensional wound in reality, leading him to his kidnappers, hyper-intelligent, biologically immortal space-faring magical lizard-frogmen things to be turned into a living tool, weapon, and mode of transport all three in one against his will… Though his new form was oddly akin to the true form of the Pokémon number 720, Hoopa, in both general appearance and power, let's see how a human-turned-monster of mass destruction fares in this universe of grim darkness and how the universe and its players react to him as he now was an integral part of the Great Game, for the better or the worse. Everything goes to their respective owner. It's crossposted on Webnovel, Space Battle, Scribble Hub, and Royal Road.
Silently hovering above one of the enumerable gilded bridges crossing an endless abyss of impossible design was a lithe metallic creature of bronze and cobalt with four thin tentacle-like arms, two on each side curling together yet never touching and a pair of stilt-shaped legs barely discernible from one another.
Its featureless face let no emotions show as the terrifyingly frigid cold black dot that was its eyes in a sea of pure white trailed over the grand dark, nothing around the bridge, looking for something.
"Ah…Fount it." It, no, he said, voice distinctively masculine yet artificial. The two left arms morphed into a hand grasping at the air.
"What is it you need, Lord Hoopa? If I may ask, what is happening?" To his right, another artificial being teleported in a flash of sickly green light, far rougher in appearance and with a skeletal head that somehow showed a great deal of facial expression despite the lack of muscles and mechanical parts.
"First, a creature you are deeply connected to, Trazyn." The Avatar of Hoopa, Danxama, chuckled darkly, sending mental shivers through the Overlord's non-existent spine.
"As your second query… Chaos has come knocking at our doorsteps, and I flicked the first domino in response." He mysteriously explained, which didn't satisfy the ancient Necron's endless curiosity. Still, he perfectly knew, despite the barely contained rage in the air, that he could continue to ask questions without risking deletion.
That was one of the major differences between this new master and the last; one was reasonable and would not only listen but consider what was said. Counted it wasn't nonsense or plain unexplainable disobedience, for the former not much would be done besides light curses as 'pranks' but the latter… it was better not speak about the latter.
"The three Primal Malignant Manifestations of the Empyrean have acted? I remember them after skimming through the ongoing attack. Then is that why you are here? And what is that 'domino' you speak of, Lord Hoopa?" Trazyn asked calmly, yet the tension was evident.
He may not be the most knowledgeable on the lore of these entities, but he understood the scales involved and to what cataclysmic scenarios it was related with its solutions. Not something unique to him, the Chaos Gods were understood across the Ark of Life as its highest threat, a controlled environment, knowledge, and faith enough of a shield for now.
"Oh no, don't fret my dear automaton. I have my brothers, sister, and niece managing this hurdle with my assistance in the backline. If you want, I can even send you recordings and data of the battle. As for the domino, a human game composed of little plates placed one after the other, flicking leads to a chain reaction, if you see. From now on, plans are hasted, and time is counted." Hoopa explained in an upbeat tone, opposite to his current robotic form.
"As such, I'm not here for that. Little is here that would have a superior effect than what is already present. But as I said, I need to accelerate things up a bit." He added, twisting his hand, and the void rippled, reality unfolding as from the skyless heaven, an object that couldn't exist in the lower layer of real space appeared.
A hypersphere at first glance, one Trazyn recognized for they were used as the highest level detainment chamber and far superior to the greatest Tesseract Labyrinth in their capacity to hold entities.
It was a blatantly bastardized rip-off of the Necron's original design, and it was one of the scariest aspects of the Archdjinni of the Rings. He didn't see a problem in stealing and readapting the tools of his enemies. It wasn't unique per se, but the only other one who did this was his brother Vaul, and the latter was far more discreet and generally was of the mind to invent better technologies. Or try at the very least.
"Emberesh…" The Necron Overlord hissed with barely contained enmity, revulsion, and sadistic satisfaction at the utterly pathetic sight of the dreadful Suneater. She was one among the C'tan that had 'mysteriously' disappeared a scant few decades after Hoopa's birth.
"Ah, memories… one of the rare good times in that horrible period." The Aeldari God sighed, his metallic hand trailing over the terrified, vaguely arachnid visage of the complete yet starved Star God. It was an expression feat for mortals and one that had been broken and rebuilt again, and again, and again and again.
Yet there was no obedience or submissiveness still; it was a scared animal whose instincts to flee had dominated every aspect of its being. It was why these creatures weren't let loose—or spoken to for diplomacy, though that was far gone at this point.
They couldn't be controlled; their minds–their equivalents of it, that is–weren't close to that of anything else, and by their nature, they would rebound to their original state of existence, thoughtless, cruel, and ever-hungry predators of the living for souls they would never possess. Hoopa had made sure of that; truly, he did. He could be considered the foremost expert on their species. It's how he created his spell for them; brute force would not have sufficed, and it always was relaxing.
Enslavement was out from the get-go as well. Besides the God of Magic's obsession and loathing of it, enslavement has repeatedly shown in the past to fail catastrophically. No matter the measure involved, the Star Gods themselves and the Old Ones were the most remarkable examples.
Also, the main reason why the development of True Artificial Intelligence was strictly forbidden in regard to using them as tools, and even then, it was heavily restricted. The small population of Necron gathered through Trazyn and Orikan's efforts stayed as the only 'non-living' entities regularly allowed for it to be a temporary state.
That didn't mean the C'tan didn't see uses such as materials and catalysts or batteries by healing and replenishing their energy by heavily monitoring the flow of soul-stuff substitutes. Still, they were too delicate and risky in most cases even then.
And if a C'tan was somehow tamed, it might have shown disappointing results. Aeldari were no weaklings, and the Star Gods remaining were less than stellar examples of strength for their kinds, and they were immensely enfeebled. The cost to restore them to their primes for the results wasn't worth it as well, beyond the certainty of it going berserk, rightfully so, not that it mattered.
But today was different, far different. It wasn't a soldier or functional weapon that was needed. Quite the contrary, Hoopa was going to use it eventually, however, well in better form, but his plans had shifted.
"I require your service, and your accord is unimportant." The Devil's baleful smile could be heard, his free arms extended, and as they formed a hand, dark chains manifested, the same that were binding Emberesh and nullifying her strength.
Tightening his hold, they dug into the dark, monstrous body of necrodermis, sizzling the false flesh as they did so like animal fat on flame if, in this case, the animal was alive and screeching in agony. The broad smile of predatory teeth present on Hoopa's true face went unseen as the Avatar increased its hold, minutely and carefully manipulating the chains as if carving a clay status.
For that was it was. And in a scant few moments, Emberesh the Suneater was gone, in her place an array of chained screaming fragments of unstable shape and density. Like a puppet on strings, Hoopa controlled them, shuffling them around until only a tenth of the original number remained. The rest were secured away in the lower cage level, where they were put into stasis.
Then he freed the rest, and conflict exploded the next second into a cannibalistic fest, shards mindlessly rushing at one another, damaging themselves and their targets as they feasted. It was a quick battle with no winner but the remaining shard, one quite close in appearance to the Suneater, and he chained it back.
Very lightly feminine with a number of features seen in arthropods such as arachnids, the greatest distinction was the fiery cracks leaking murky grey energy. It wasn't the personification of beauty, not that Emberesh ever was, but the Shard of the Suneater was verifiable inferior in every way.
Of course, Hoopa didn't care, but it was an observation all the same and a common occurrence when shattering a C'tan, which could be reversed by letting all shards eat each other with an adequate amount of energy.
Regardless, he was satisfied with the result. It was powerful, yet not so much, a perfect domino for him to flick. Honestly, he would have preferred to let his plan unfold organically, but the chance of an all-out war with the rest of the Pantheon would destroy his every plan and change everything.
It wasn't a matter of winning or losing, even if he held doubt on that front. His siblings, while individually weaker than the trio of Psychic Tumors and weakened, remained bonafide Gods and were infinitely more capable and not restrained to the Warp. A wild card like Khaine changed little, for he would heed his Consort's words.
The Aeldari Empire was nothing in comparison.
He was pissed, to say the least. Pissed always to be the one to react despite his proactive nature and countermeasures, his patience had reached its limit, but he couldn't let emotions guide his actions.
"Trazyn, do you desire to be part of the honored few who have witnessed the humble beginning of one of the greatest entities that will ever grace this terrible galaxy, the Numen of Light?" He grandly let out, and a golden ring appeared before the C'tan Shard, thanks to his second Avatar.
"With pleasure, Lord Hoopa."
"Excellent!" And with a loud clap of his hands, the Shard of the Suneater was freed and, with fury equal to a khornate berserker, rushed through the portal without care if it was a trap. Not that it had the mental capacity to conceive such a thing or anything else aside from anger, but it was a sad existence if what it was originally part of was ignored.
A few hours prior that, on Earth, two strange men were trudging in the snow far from any desert and arid terrain they usually advanced on, their emplacement close to a forest that would be central in a tale surrounding a round table, inbred royalty, and magical swords stuck in stone.
The biting cold and harsh wind did little to disturb them beyond the extremities of their clothes and hair as the duo pressed onward into the said forest, one where winter seemed to have forgotten to exist. Whichever was the oddest was anyone's guess.
"The locals' truth is factual." The taller and most muscular of the two stated matter-of-factly, his companion fiddling with his beard nodded sagely.
"Indeed, that is quite the mystical forest before us…" Oll trailed off, his eyes passing briefly over sinister gazes aimed at them and the childish giggling that followed, "It's a place I do not wish to stay longer than necessary."
"I agree… Those are the 'Fey' spoken so darkly of?" Enkidu pondered aloud, advancing fearlessly in the dense forest, plants, and fungus that didn't exist anywhere else in the hundreds, as were the sounds no natural-born animals could make.
"They are… Disappointing." He telekinetically grabbed a strange purple humanoid creature with a small butterfly wing and a maw full of spinning fangs, then slowly crushed its head through the same way he caught it. Eyes, skull fragments, and brain matter smashed against his psychic shield as the still-moving yet soon-to-be-dead body fell and looked for a head that didn't exist anymore.
"Their purpose isn't to stop you, after all," Oll refuted, unamused by the younger Perpetual, exasperated by the oozing arrogance and blindness, "I don't have your psychic talent, but I can see those creatures are unnatural and well crafted, do you not?"
"They are, but that doesn't change my verdict. Hmm, and why must we be here? You seemed pressed as of late. With your brother searching for us, going to your sister's domain when both are allied is unwise, if not stupid. Wouldn't it be preferable to wait and find a way to open the box?" Another Fae, this time with the body of a skinned infant with sharp claws and beetle wings, was burned in a golden flame.
Its soul-wrenching wails, akin to a baby agonizing, could be heard by everything in half a kilometer, alerting the entire forest. It was soon followed by the sounds of buzzing wings, giggles, whispers, hisses, and countless more coming their way.
But they were unfazed.
"A plan no matter how well you die at first contact, sometimes even before, young one. And we won't be opening the box for millennia, I fear, millennia we don't have. Oh, thanks to you, stealth is impossible…" The First Perpetual explained nothing, though there wasn't any explanation to give.
He agreed with Enkidu. Otherwise, it wasn't as if the box containing the ring wasn't warded in a pocket realm deep in the relaxing waves of the Sea of Souls, but it was a reckless ordeal all the same. Studying the box longer until they cracked it open or killed one of the two looking for it was preferred. As unlikely as it may have been, it was safer, not that the lack of safety ever was a problem.
But it came from above, and he obeyed. However, he had noted that it was strange.
"Stealth would have never worked anyway." The younger one argued as he lazily lifted a finger, and all around them, interwoven burning strings of light manifested, carbonizing the genecrafted swarm like the insects they were.
Hours passed as the duo advanced deeper, the fairy swarm stopping at some point; the forest turned into a flowering valley of short trees and bushes where the Sun shined brightly, bringing the warmth of summer upon a winter-stricken land. Their march went on another hour until they stopped at the sight of an immaculately crystal-clear lake.
It was a magnificent sight where, below its calm surface, the realm of this world and its fantastical sister seemed to merge. A surface that was no more than an illusion for the ones ignorant of the arcane if not for a man taller than any other standing at the edge.
His body was of perfection incarnate, imagined by the mortal mind as uncanny as beautiful. He wore a gilded pointed helmet ending in a long, flowing, feathery plume. His torso was bare, showing glowing runes and glistening tanned skin, with only a gladiator skirt as a garment for modesty—the two pieces of the very open armor of pure gold.
The unknown man, taller than two men at once, turned slowly to the two intruders, and a halberd appeared in his hand. Then he moved, faster than any man at right to, tip of his weapon at Enkidu's heart, who barely dodged a faint smile present.
"Interesting." He mused, dodging another strike aimed at his head and hundreds more in the following seconds, "How were you made?"
At those words, the fight ended, and the man was pushed to the ground on his knees, the psychic pressure strong enough to shatter stones only able to crack bones and pop blood vessels. Alas, the younger Perpetua's bright curiosity went unsatisfied as the man's tattoos glowed and the psychic power suppressing him worked less and less.
"Stop playing." Oll sighed, taking out a weapon of design alien to this time period. Runes of Enuncia slowly lit up across its barrel until a low hum was heard, and he pressed the trigger. There was only a visceral scream of pain as the silent hypersonic beam of dark and white light reached its target, turning the scantily dressed genecrafted man into fine powder.
"I thought you passed away! What a relief! And what toy is this, brother?" An intrigued voice echoed as the valley changed. At the same time, an army of similarly artificial men appeared, physically normal but physically gifted humans and creatures of stones teleported in neat ranks. It was an old animated woman, her tiara as shining as her eyes upon the scene before her, her question aimed at the one dressed in garishly yellow attire.
The lack of an immediate answer soured her mood immensely, but it wasn't the case for the one hovering to her right, an old man the Perpetuals below had seen and had run away from.
"Dahut, I present to you the two who have stolen from us." Shinar, the Architect of the Tower of Babel, exclaimed to his sister, the Queen of Ys.
"I can see how you were fooled…" She softly giggled, eying Enkidu in particular, "It's quite an unconventional reunion with two of us into one bo-"
Her words never came to an end as the Sun disappeared as if devoured by an ancient beast of nightmare, with a soulful screech of despair ringing a primordial presence settled in the air–freezing and burning at the same time–as existential dread and terror settled deep into the hearts of all.
The last domino was placed, and now they would fall in place with one little flick.
*
My P@treon if you are interested.
p@treon.com/user?u=60424165
Hello, back on not yet Emperor and how Hoopa escalate things up because someone poked him—an hornet nest.
Bye-bye!