51. Light in the Darkness

Darkness swallowed every trace of light from the vast clearing of an equally vast forest, the army of genecrafted men and golem vanishing into the shadow, leaving only four in the light of the sunless day.

The Architect of the Tower of Babel was the first to voice his uncomprehension; he wasn't the first to get his bearing, however, and his words and demeanor were in drastic opposition to his usual self.

"Wha-what is happening?!" He cried out, reeling back at the horrific sight above and beyond any he had ever seen physically. It was mockingly pitiful compared to the presence of Shahar, the Lord of the Dawn, but everything was in the face of this mysterious entity, a True God for all intent and purpose.

But the infinitely weaker nature of this didn't change that instead of a mouse before a world, he was a mouse before an elephant. Or that was how he felt: impossible to grasp victory, run, or bargain.

Then, from the darkness, a crooked bestial hand ending with twisted claws oozing alien energy slithered, the arm it belonged following an equally unearthly appearance. It was the first arm of many, eight to be exact. The last pair at the bottom was more akin to legs if the claws were to be ignored.

It had an enormous insectoid body adorned in zagged cracks and fissures oozing eldritch energy across chitinous leathery skin that was neither. It had one more limb, a long, spindly, prehensile tail that ended in a chaotic series of sharp serrated spines leaking a substance that seemed to eat through time and space themselves like an ordinary acid would paper not changing this perception.

But the part that shattered the illusion of barest normalcy of this utterly alien being of neither flesh, arcane, and soul, the true part that marked it as an abomination. It was the visage revealed by the opening of eight squirming chelicerae that had served as a simple face mask, human even from a certain angle.

However, the void that was its pair of eyes crying liquefied, solidified, vaporized, ionized matters that shouldn't exist in this plane of reality, the absence of a nose and the maw where arms and tongues wiggled in the black hole that was its throat.

"This can't be!" Dahut cried out with wide eyes, recognition flashing in her features as knowledge of history had been her focus when speaking to Shahar, so she knew of the creature before her. Or so she believed, even if it wasn't a one-on-one to the cutthroat description and galactic tale she bargained for, a Ygnir, a Star God, a cosmic horror that shouldn't be imprisoned or assimilated back into the Laws of Reality, it was leeching off.

"I fear that it very much can." Down on the ground, Oll, or Ollanius as he was known by the two above, declared drily, "Or have you let the fine prints be unread? That's unwise."

His words reached his younger immortal counterparts, who smiled faintly, yes indeed, the fine prints were of major importance. Despite his spotty memories of lives that had been his yet not, he instinctively understood their importance and how many of the ones that composed his greater whole had made fools of themselves.

There was little anger; however, the opposite, elation, was blooming, but he waited for the family drama to end. It was pretty entertaining. Until then, he would prepare, plan, and study the visibly unstable and wounded abomination as it seemingly acclimated to its environment. And what if he attacked first, and the promising fight was cut short?

"You seem far too calm. Is that a trap, Ollanius? I knew of your cowardly nature, yet this reached an unprecedented new low." Shinar returned to a reasonable state of mind–extremely frightened by the existential threat above but functional–called as he quickly hovered down, his white robe and beard billowing.

Spells upon spells were weaved around his body, mind, and soul to protect him against virtually all attacks while his eyes never left the cosmic invader. His sister, the Queen of Ys, took the quicker if riskier option by simply teleporting in a flash of blue light to the ground, as well as spells interlocking on hers even if they were focused on her garment.

"No, brother." The First Perpetual chuckled derisively at the pointless accusations. How he wished it was true, his heart told him

"This isn't a trap of my design, and I'm as blinded as you are toward this cataclysmic scenario." He clarified soon after, himself preparing even if he would prefer they attacked right away despite the possibility of it all backfiring. But he lacked too much information; any action he might take would fail or have a varying degree of effectiveness, most likely on the lower end.

It wasn't pleasant, but that was the unfair reality.

"Then what of the barrier isolating us from the world?" Shinar proclaimed that he couldn't access his golem or any of his constructs, and his senses remained. It was a strange barrier. It wasn't of the arcane; it was almost like a dimensional pocket, yet they remained on the planet. The armies outside were in vain, trying to reach their masters.

"If we could create such a contraception, we wouldn't have run away when we borrowed from you." Enkidu said bluntly to the ancient wizard, and he added with a snark, "Unless a childish battle of who is the culprit is one you bravely want to wage war in, I suggest we change tunes. Or would you prefer to pass on with a satisfied ego?"

"Indeed, the same is true for fleeing. If such options were on our side, we would have used them far sooner." Oll continued, his demeanor as casual as ever, yet no hint of a lie was present. Though Shinar was right, it was a trap, if it may be called that, but the trapper was neither of the Perpetuals' making.

"I fear they are right despite the mysteries left unanswered, Shinar. It's not the time for clashing blades. I propose an alliance of interest. The terms are as follows: we shall not maliciously harm one another in any way until we end this threat. Are those acceptable?" Dahut stated warmly as if her willingness for peace had always been there.

Alas, they had wasted much time, and any possibilities of further planning as they agreed to the Queen of Ys' words were drowned by the resounding wail from the Shard of the Suneater, whose body flashed for one instant and rematerialized right before Oll. A massive clawed hand reached toward his head.

"Ṡ̸͕Ḧ̴̫A̷̭̅T̶̛͎T̷̬́Ë̷̦R̴̡̀!" He commanded hastily, pushing the deadly limb far enough for him to evade. Yet it was only one attack of many forcing him to chain his words of Enuncia as the unholy beast persecuted him and only for some maddening reasons despite the three others following attacks.

The ground, grass, tree, underbrush, and even the air shifted, transmuted into projectiles that flew at a speed far beyond that of the keenest raptor eye's perception. Hundreds of tons of raw psychically transformed material slamming full force slammed full force onto the Ygnir side, forcing the beast of age past to stumble.

Light erupted from Enkidu's form as he vanished, psychic power multiplying his strength and speed to level fat beyond the human realm as he weaved effortlessly through the Shinar's ceaseless assault. Their bulk and that he wasn't the target with his sight of what would be mainly thanked for. As to the words of Enuncia, he held no fear of being a target, and he had protection in the advent of such a possibility.

In his hands, a flaming sword manifested. Each of his slashes upon the metallic was that of hundreds movement; each was methodical, powerful, and skillful, and yet all it inflicted were minor scratches barely of effect. The C'tan remained uncaring of their assault, barely shifting–as if they were mere insects–yet its own remained the same, and it was Oll.

Why the Suneater acted this way remained an enigma. What wasn't was that it was scared, maniacal, rageful, obsessive, and one-track-minded in an impossible contradiction. Its alien nature did nothing to show this wasn't unnatural to them, who knew nothing of this creature. Its target wasn't even the First Perpetual but a particular portion of his chest. A small tattoo darker than the deepest abyss detected a snake curling two times on itself, biting its tail.

Regardless of this oddity to be heavily interrogated once this fiasco was fixed, Dahut entered the battle, though in a subtler manner. Her family had always taken dramatically different paths in the route of magic. Her dead elder brother's focus had been the fine arts of artifact crafting, while her dead sister had been the inelegant and boringly one-dimensional act of pure destruction.

For Shinar, it was sculpting and architecture, and as for it was the highest, most noble discipline, genecrafting and, more broadly, biomancy leaning upon supporting her perfect army of lovers. Holding back a scowl of disgust at what she was going to do, she planted a plain white wooden staff in the moist dirt, her grip on it of steel.

"Please, do not reject my gift." She proclaimed softly, her voice having taken a sudden demure tone and was carried by the wind, reaching the three's pair of ears simultaneously and with immaculate clarity. It would not do if they were to be taken aback.

Electric blue and honey-yellow beams of energy shot outward from her staff, pumping raw power into her three allies of convenience. It coursed through their flesh, blood, and bone unimpeded. Their wounds were sealed shut, and vigor and strength flowed in their veins while their every action gained weight. But that wasn't all. Their psychic might was amplified, and their connection to the Sea of Souls widened.

The last of which wasn't done to Ollanius, for it would be pointless. The effects were immediate, and the course of the battle shifted. The mindless abomination was pushed back, its target never changing. But the damages on its body remained negligible.

Then, in a moment, it took a radical turn for the worst.

-You may depart from this part of the contract for now.‐ An intoxicatingly beautiful and melodious voice ebbed at the mind of Oll. It was but a brief slip in concentration, a slip that gave a chance for Suneater to land a hit. And what a devastating one it was; the sharp finger shot into the immortal human belly and exploded into a thousand serrated blades.

-What!?- Oll called back incredulously, a word to unravel reality with the immediate aid of the three others managed to break the limb penetrating his lower belly. His body was racked with agony, only a setback for him. The black spines growing in him were more so thought.

-Ollanius, outsiders can break plans, and I'm no exception. I'm merely putting the proviso of a clause you have signed into practice. I have made light of what it implied; you shouldn't be surprised. Though fear not…- There was a short pause and a dark chuckle that was incomparably more terrifying than any of the Ygnir hellish wails. It was ecstatic and rageful; thousands of verses and poems could be written from it, and none could ever hope to magnify the sheer presence of it -...your service and willingness will not go unpaid. Oh, and don't worry about your toys. They won't be lost or, worse, stolen. A little bonus. Goodbye, my boy!-

This brief dialog, unknown to all, signified the temporary death of the First Perpetual. No matter her efforts, Dahut couldn't heal her brother from the hungering necrodermis, nor when his vital shutdown could she resurrect him. His soul escaped her grasp with mocking and a painful sting for her even to dare to do so.

Their rough formation broke apart, the Shard of the Suneater focus now gone, its eyes less hole gained the barest amount of clarity. An arm snapped outward and grabbed Enkidu by the neck, only to let go as the New Man busted in a wave of psychic power, choosing to retreat wisely.

Taking a defensive position, he psychically massaged his neck where metallic flakes seemed to grow from the skin he was touched, draining his life to propagate.

'Hm. This is bad… hmm maybe not…' He thought calmly, his focus splitting further as he limited the growth. The 'death' of Oll not shaking him beyond confirming this entire situation was a derailment of the unworded song of fate until now. Enkidu was not blind or ignorant; the one he might call a friend hadn't come to him for purely benevolent reasons. Not that Oll had denied this possibility.

A wail rang akin to the demented song of a tortured mother whale after losing her calves. The Ygnir disappeared from sight, then a scream followed, and all eyes landed upon a wide-eyed Dahut. A metallic hand went straight through her dress, crushing her heart. She didn't die, another heart had been grafted if one were to be lost, but she gasped loudly, blood dripping from her lips as an expression of rage and hate took over her once regal feature.

But her fiery demeanor vanished in the face of a widening bottomless maw of spinning teeth, fanged tongs, and secondary mouths snapping at the air.

"UNHAND ME BEA-" Her head and upper torso were swallowed, and with a crunch, the bloody remains of her body fell to the ground. But the prize, the soil, the Shard of the Suneater craved was due by virtue of its superiority like the first time was stolen, seeping through its finger as if both were water.

No matter; there was more. Its head snapped to Shinar, warping space like a child would snap a twig. It reappeared above the fleeing old psyker, stone upon stone slamming into its arms, head, and chest, shattering the landscape for the millennia to come.

The efforts proved of little worth, but they were effective… they gained a few more seconds as the Shard advanced against the tidal waves of rocks, their ancient weight pulverized in its presence—as if acknowledging their inferiority.

This morbid dance of violence went on until the abomination of unliving metal grasped the weary and mortified Architect's torso, ribs shattering, piercing internals and skin alike as a fate similar to his sister befallen Shinar… or so it should have been as Enkidu's blade brighter than it had ever been cut halfway through its arm.

The Suneater howled, grasping at the damaged limbs in confusion–the soul that had been in its cage on the ground–while its foul blood tainting the very essence of life wherever it poured as its frustration grew and grew. Fragmented memories come and disappear in chaotic flashes.

A time well used by the one who had wounded it. The remaining Perpetual had changed, his body visibly taller, corded muscles bulging where they did not before, and presence that was dearly an inextinguishable Light among the all-over encompassing Darkness for Shinar, a Light that meant Protection, Order, and the Essence of Humanity itself.

Alas, this Light was far too bright and began to burn him alive, eyes melting and mouth wide open in a silent agonizing scream. Yet he heard the last words of his existence.

"I thank you for your sacrifice, brother." Enkidu, by his false name void of power, declared, delicately clasping a hand on the scalding feeble man's trembling, wrinkled visage, and the Architect of the Tower of Babel light of life left.

And so the last of the Trueborn Psyker ascended per the contract he had signed in his youth, and the boy who would be king became whole.

*

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