The Empire of The Multiverse

Chapter 47 - The Doomed Civilization

The boarding party, consisting of Mordecai and his loyal Death Guard Astartes, disembarked from the triremes and quickly made their presence known on the flagship of the Type 2 Civilization fleet. Adorned in their distinctive Dark Green Combat Skins with a combination of black and green colors, they were a formidable force to be reckoned with.

Upon their arrival, they were confronted by unsettling and grotesque creatures—once human soldiers, now twisted and malformed into eldritch abominations. These horrors attempted to oppose the Death Guard, but their efforts were in vain. With each precise and controlled fire from the flayers wielded by the Death Guard, these eldritch creations were reduced to nothing more than ethereal particles, dissipating into blue dust.

The hallway that had initially been filled with these twisted monstrosities was now cleared, and Mordecai led his Death Guard through, their determination unwavering. Mordecai, a veteran Primarch well accustomed to the horrors of war, couldn't help but contemplate the nature of these creatures. "What manner of beings have they become?" he pondered silently.

"Let us proceed to the Bridge. We need to gather as much information as we can about this situation," Mordecai announced to his accompanying Death Guard. With their flayers at the ready, they made their way through the vessel, encountering pockets of resistance along the way. But none could stand against the precise and relentless fire of the Death Guard's weaponry. Blast after blast, they eliminated any threats that stood in their path, moving with an unwavering determination towards their ultimate objective—the Bridge of the flagship.

As they approached the entrance to the bridge, the doors loomed before them, adorned with grotesque figures that once belonged to a proud humanoid race. Now, these figures were twisted and contorted, transformed into nightmarish cosmic horrors that defied comprehension. Mordecai and his Death Guard Astartes quickly dispatched these eldritch aberrations, reducing them to mere blue dust in a matter of minutes. The corridor that had been marred by the presence of these grotesque entities was now cleansed.

With the way clear, Mordecai knocked on the door leading to the bridge, his voice echoing with an eerie sense of anticipation. "Anyone still alive in there?" he called out, his tone a mixture of caution and curiosity. From within, a voice trembled in response, a mixture of fear and desperation evident in its timbre. "Are they gone? ...nightmarish creatures," the voice questioned, laden with uncertainty and disbelief.

"They are gone. Open the door, and we shall talk," Mordecai reassured in a steady voice, his words carrying an air of authority and assurance. Yet, the response from within was one of paranoia and suspicion. "No, no, nonononono, you might be just another one of their illusions playing tricks on me," the voice quivered, revealing the depths of the crew member's terror and distrust.

In response to this, Mordecai exchanged a knowing look with his Death Guard Astartes. Without hesitation, two of them aimed their flayers at the door itself, unleashing their devastating power upon it. The door crumbled into blue dust, dissipating in the wake of the flayer's energy. The chamber beyond was unveiled, exposing the crew within to the imposing figures of the Death Guard and their Primarch.

Amidst the swirling blue dust, Mordecai stepped into the bridge, his presence towering over the room and filling the space with an aura of both dread and authority. The Death Guard Astartes fanned out, ensuring that every angle was secured, their vigilant eyes scanning for any potential threats. "Now, do you still feel like hallucinating more?" Mordecai's voice echoed through the chamber, laced with an enigmatic mixture of reassurance and an unsettling undercurrent of supernatural power.

Mordecai's piercing gaze swept across the room, his eyes alight with a blend of curiosity and sternness. In response to his inquiry, a man raised his hand timidly, his trembling gesture a clear testament to his intimidation in the presence of the towering Primarch and the encircling Astartes. The man's voice quivered as he spoke, his words carrying a mix of trepidation and reverence. "I am Deputy Commander Vagos of the Rolos Civilization, under the light of His Majesty the God Emperor, praise be the Emperor's son and his Angels of Death."

Mordecai's attention was captured by the phrasing, a signal that the Rolos Civilization had chosen to submit to the Imperium's dominion in exchange for limited autonomy. "Under the light?" Mordecai's voice echoed with a mixture of understanding and assessment, recognizing the dynamics of a civilization that had chosen to align itself with the Imperium. "I see you're one of those races who surrendered early, earning the right to rule by yourselves as long as the Imperium's laws are enforced properly. I understand," Mordecai responded with a blend of acknowledgment and authority.

"Tell me, Deputy Commander Vagos, what has transpired here?" Mordecai's question resonated through the chamber, his voice carrying a weight that demanded a clear and concise account of the events that had unfolded. His presence exuded a sense of authority, a reminder of the Imperium's dominion and the responsibility that came with it.

"Sir, this is what happened," Vagos began, his voice wavering as he recounted the events. "Our lead scientist discovered the ruins of an advanced civilization. We dispatched a research team along with an escort fleet to investigate. The nearby planet is where the lead scientist made the discovery."

"I see," Mordecai acknowledged, his expression unreadable. "Lead the way to the artifact."

Vagos led the way with cautious steps, the evidence of a struggle still visible on the ship's walls. The crimson stains bore witness to the confrontation that had taken place before the arrival of the Death Guard. As they moved through the ship's corridors, the tension in the air was palpable, a silent reminder of the horror that had transpired.

They arrived at a section of the ship where grotesque figures seemed to congregate, a sinister congregation of what had once been members of a proud humanoid race. Vagos hesitated as he was about to retreat, his attention captured by the weaponry wielded by the Death Guard Astartes. With a single blast, these nightmarish entities were reduced to nothing more than blue dust, their existence erased within moments.

Vagos' thoughts raced as he watched the Astartes in action, marveling at the efficiency and power of their weaponry. He couldn't help but draw a stark contrast between the weaponry of his own Type 2 Civilization and the advanced technology of the Overlord of the Universe, the Imperium. "Damn," he mused internally, "this difference between our level and the Overlord's is staggering. While we were grappling with basic laser and plasma technology, they have already advanced to these blue dust beam makers."

As the grotesque figures were eradicated with ease, Vagos found himself contemplating the implications of the technology he witnessed. He was forced to reevaluate his understanding of weapons and power, faced with the stark reality that the Imperium's advancements far surpassed their own. Amid the awe and amazement, his mind churned with the realization that they were in the presence of an overwhelming force, one that wielded a technology that transcended their own civilization's capabilities.

As they approached the room containing the artifact, the oppressive aura of madness and despair seemed to intensify. The Honkai pylon embedded in the wall from the previous corridor acted as a barrier, its calming influence pushing back against the malevolent psychic energy that sought to manipulate minds. Mordecai's Primarch senses, however, allowed him to perceive the clash of these two powerful forces.

"I can feel it," Mordecai thought, his awareness heightened by his Primarch physiology. The clash of energies was palpable, a discordant symphony that reverberated through the fabric of reality itself. The Honkai energy radiated a soothing, stabilizing force, while the other psychic energy was a cacophony of madness, despair, and chaos.

The distinct nature of this psychic energy was apparent to Mordecai. It was not native to this universe, an intruder from beyond. The psychic aura exuded malevolence and a profound wrongness that echoed with a darkness foreign to the Imperium. Mordecai's mind recoiled from its touch, his very essence recognizing the danger it posed.

"This being should not be allowed in this universe," Mordecai thought with unwavering determination. He could sense the grave threat it represented, the potential for widespread chaos and devastation. Whatever this entity was, it harbored powers and intentions that were fundamentally incompatible with the stability and order the Imperium sought to uphold.

As his thoughts churned, his gray pupils began to radiate a blackish-green light, a manifestation of his Herrscher of Death powers and his divine lineage as a Primarch.

"Open it," Mordecai ordered, his voice carrying a tone of command mixed with caution. The sealed door swung open, revealing the chamber within. Vagos, the deputy commander, moved forward but was halted by Mordecai's gesture. The room held an eerie atmosphere, thick with the unsettling presence that emanated from the artifact.

Inside the chamber, Dr. Virmas, the lead scientist, knelt before the artifact. His appearance was that of a man unhinged, his disheveled state betraying the strain his mind had endured. Vagos' anger flared as he addressed the doctor, "Dr. Virmas, what are you doing?!" He moved to approach the scientist, only to be restrained by the firm grip of the Astartes.

"That being is no longer your Scientist," Mordecai's voice cut through the tension. His words carried a weight that transcended mortal comprehension. He could perceive the shift that had occurred within the doctor, the transformation that had taken him beyond the realm of humanity. In Mordecai's eyes, the doctor was no longer a mere mortal but a vessel for a being of chaos, Mordecai Raised his hand a Jet Black Scythe emerged as he held it in defense.

The doctor rose, his gaze devoid of humanity, replaced by an unsettling otherness. He spoke in a voice that was dissonant and discordant, a cacophony that defied conventional speech. "Mortals and a Demi-God, this Universe is intriguing," the doctor—now a vessel for the being—chuckled dripped with a sense of foreboding, "Gods of the Physical Plane wielding immense power, and Gods of Magic all come together to wage war."

Mordecai's command echoed with an air of authority, "Being of Chaos, Outer God, you are not welcome in this Universe. Leave or face the might of the Imperium and its God Emperor!" He confronted the eldritch entity with a resolute warning, his gray pupils glowing with blackish-green light—the manifestation of his Herrscher of Death powers and divine lineage.

The being's response was a deranged laughter, a maddening expression of its nature. "God Emperor? I see you must be talking about that Supreme God of Order in this Universe, and...you must be one of his Offspring." Its voice—or what passed for a voice—was a disorienting whirlwind of sounds and tones, a dissonant symphony of chaos and madness.

Its words trailed with an eerie quality, "This Contraption of yours is annoying." With a mere gesture, the Honkai Pylon shattered into fragments. The Astartes, guardians of discipline and fortitude, convulsed in agony, the onslaught of chaotic energy overwhelming their minds, In an instant, Mordecai invoked his divine power, erecting a shield of his own energy to protect the Astartes from the encroaching madness.

"Leave, return to the Mothership. You can't help in this fight," Mordecai ordered, his concern for his Astartes evident. The Death Guard Astartes promptly obeyed, leaving Mordecai to face the enigmatic being alone.

"Interesting Demi-god, you are able to stand in front of me without your consciousness torn to shreds by madness," the being observed, its chaotic presence intertwining with Mordecai's divine essence. It recognized the manifestation of death within Mordecai, an entity that held power even in the face of cosmic chaos.

"I see the manifestation of death. That is why—" The being's words were cut short as Mordecai's response came swiftly, a blast from his flayer directed at the being's face. The doctor's form disintegrated into blue dust, but the being's true nature was far from extinguished. It transformed once more, adopting the likeness of Fafnir, the God Emperor.

"Those Astartes, you call them, seem to revere this form as God?" the being questioned with a distorted semblance of Fafnir's voice.

"I forbid you from taking the form of my Father!" Mordecai's voice thundered with divine authority. He channeled his powers as the Herrscher of Death, infusing his flayer with the very essence of death and decay.

As the blast connected, the spaceship itself began to wither and decay, its structural integrity unraveling in the wake of Mordecai's onslaught.

The cosmic clash between the being of chaos and the Primarch intensified, each move and countermove sparking a surge of energy that rippled through the fabric of reality. The being's attempts to manipulate the very essence of existence itself were met with a resolute defiance—a testament to the Imperium's mastery over technology and the Primarch's own indomitable will.

As the being attempted to warp reality, Mordecai's combat skin responded with a symphony of countermeasures. Time and space became instruments under his command, and every attempt at manipulation was thwarted with calculated precision. The very nature of the universe resisted the being's intrusion, pushing back against its chaotic influence.

"Very interesting, Demi-God. Your technology has reached the realm where you can toy with reality itself," the being chattered, its words dripping with a perverse fascination. But its words were punctuated by relentless assaults. Audio and visual hallucinations bombarded Mordecai's senses, each intended to unbalance and disorient him. Nightmarish creatures emerged from the depths of its cosmic imagination, only to be met with the inexorable decay of the flayers and the power of death that Mordecai wielded.

Each time a nightmarish creature fell, it crumbled to blue ash, and Mordecai's connection to death grew stronger. The very act of eradicating these eldritch horrors fueled his power, turning their chaotic essence into a source of strength. The Primarch's eyes, once gray, glowed with an eerie blackish-green light—a manifestation of his divine lineage and the Herrscher of Death within him.

But the being was unrelenting. It shifted its form once more, morphing into something beyond mortal comprehension. Eldritch tendrils and surreal appendages sprouted from its form, a grotesque spectacle that defied the laws of physics. The sight was enough to unsettle the minds of lesser beings, but Mordecai stood resolute.

The Primarch's response was swift and decisive. He channeled his powers, invoking the might of the Herrscher of Death. The flayer in his hand crackled with deathly energy, a conduit for the very essence of decay. With a precise motion, he unleashed a concentrated blast, directed at the heart of the eldritch being's form.

The blast struck true, and the being convulsed in agony. Its eldritch form distorted and unraveled, a cacophony of wails and shrieks resonating through the cosmos. Its attempts to manipulate reality faltered and sputtered, the chaotic energy that fueled its existence succumbing to the implacable force of death.

But even in its agony, the being's defiance remained. Its shattered form continued to twist and writhe, its cosmic essence flickering in and out of existence. The battle was a symphony of light and darkness, order and chaos, mortality and cosmic horror.

The cataclysmic clash between Mordecai and Nyarlathotep reached its crescendo, an intense battle that tested the limits of reality itself. But as the being of chaos spoke its name, "Nyarlathotep," the battle abruptly ceased. The decaying spaceship, unable to bear the strain of such cosmic forces, disintegrated into nothingness. The battlefield that was once a vessel of technology and life became a void of entropy and emptiness.

"Demi-God, tell me your name. I believe we will meet again very soon," Nyarlathotep's eerie voice echoed through the emptiness. "Mordecai Ashbringer," came the firm response, the Primarch's presence unyielding in the face of cosmic horror.

"Very well, Ashbringer. I'll see you in the future, sooner than you think," the being declared before fading from existence, leaving behind only the echoes of its chilling laughter.

As the void of space enveloped him, Mordecai's resolve remained unwavering. He propelled himself back to the Mothership, using the propulsion mechanisms built into his combat skin to traverse the vast expanse. His mind churned with the knowledge that the encounter with Nyarlathotep was far from over. The cosmic being's ominous words lingered, hinting at future confrontations that would challenge the Imperium's dominion over the universe.

When Mordecai finally returned to his Mothership, the Endurance, he wasted no time in contacting Fafnir to relay the chilling encounter he had with the Outer God. "Father, this outer being goes by the name of Nyarlathotep," Mordecai's voice carried a weight of concern and urgency.

The moment Fafnir heard the name, a shadow of recognition passed over his features. The Lovecraftian horrors of ancient tales, the eldritch beings that defied comprehension, their names now resonated with a haunting familiarity. "I should've known,"

Fafnir's voice held a mixture of frustration and realization. "I can traverse the great expanse, and so can they."

Fafnir heart sank as he realized the implications. The Lovecraftian horrors were not mere fiction in this universe, but formidable cosmic entities with the power to traverse reality itself. "Son, you are up against cosmic horrors of impossible proportions," Fafnir's tone was grave, "Beings of great cosmic power and maddening existence. Find the rift they used to enter this universe. Locate it, and I shall banish him myself."

"By your will, Father," Mordecai replied with unwavering determination. He understood the gravity of the situation.

Mordecai's eyes bore into Vagos with a mixture of concern and determination. The unease emanating from Vagos was palpable, and Mordecai knew there was more to the story than met the eye. "Vagos, it's not our fault...it was the president's...yes, it was under his orders," Vagos muttered, his voice weighed down by guilt and unease.

"Vagos, there's something you're not telling us. I find it hard to believe that you stumbled upon that artifact purely by chance on that particular planet," Mordecai's voice carried a stern edge as he confronted Vagos.

Vagos hesitated, his shoulders slumping as he seemed burdened by his secret. With a heavy sigh, he finally spoke, "May the Emperor forgive me for my part in this. I pray that our race can still find salvation."

With Mordecai's unwavering presence before him, Vagos began to unveil the truth that had remained hidden. "Your Highness, The Rolos Civilization... the president was an ambitious man," he began, his voice carrying the weight of a disturbing revelation. "He wanted the race to ascend quickly to a Type 3 Civilization, and to accomplish this, he did everything he could. He scoured all the remnants of old civilizations, pursued the eldritch artifacts to gain forbidden knowledge on how to achieve this ascent."

Vagos's voice grew heavy with the weight of his confession. "However, one day, the President was visited by a Dark Stranger. A charismatic fellow, he was," Vagos recounted, his memories of the encounter clearly etched into his mind. "I know because I was there. I had to report the progress of our search to him and chanced upon that encounter. The Dark Stranger easily persuaded him and gave him instructions, but first, he gave us the blueprints of a Dyson Sphere and Fusion Reactors."

"The President was instructed to perform a ritual in this Dark Stranger's name," Vagos continued, his words laced with a sense of dread. "The result of this ritual was catastrophic. Our Capital Planet was consumed by a massive rift that emerged, swallowing the planet and the stars around it. I was on patrol that day and narrowly escaped its devastation."

Mordecai's eyes narrowed as the gravity of the situation settled upon him. "Lead us to your Capital Planet, or to the place where it used to be," Mordecai commanded, his voice carrying a mix of urgency and determination. The Imperium needed answers, and they needed to uncover the truth behind the ritual that had unleashed such destruction upon the lower levels of the universe.