The Empire of The Multiverse

Chapter 70 - Nyarlahotep's Fear

In the vast expanse between multiverses, Nyarlathotep, an eldritch entity with forms that twisted and morphed with an otherworldly fluidity, reveled in the chaos he wrought. His actions transcended the boundaries of space, as he manipulated dimensions that lay between universes, creating gateways with malevolent glee. The very fabric of reality quivered under his influence, and his maniacal laughter echoed through the cosmic tapestry.

However, amidst his cosmic machinations, Nyarlathotep's jubilation abruptly ceased. An omnipotent gaze, a force equal or perhaps greater than his creator Azathoth, fell upon him. The voice of Nyarlathotep, dripping with sly amusement, taunted the looming presence.

"God Emperor, you cannot stop me," he snickered, his words riding the currents of the cosmic winds. "In fact, I am aiding your conquest by forging connections between universes, weaving the threads of chaos into your grand tapestry."

The gaze remained inscrutable, a silent observer of the eldritch being. Nyarlathotep, for all his malevolence, felt a flicker of trepidation. This was no ordinary force; it was the Supreme Will, the God Emperor, Fafnir—the entity that ruled over the Imperium Dominus and held sway as the Omniarch of the Imperial Pantheon.

"You are busy fighting," Nyarlathotep continued, the amusement now laced with a hint of defiance. "But know this, even if I have my own designs, I serve a purpose in your grand scheme."

The gaze lingered for a moment before Nyarlathotep vanished, leaving the cosmic void to its own devices. Unbeknownst to the Supreme Will, the God Emperor, Nyarlathotep harbored a newfound sense of fear—a fear akin to the tremors he felt when Azathoth stirred. The Blind Dumb God, the cosmic entity that birthed all existence, had been lulled back to slumber, but the brief fear of erasure lingered in Nyarlathotep's consciousness.

Fafnir, the God Emperor, wise in his dominion, saw through the eldritch being's machinations. He recognized that even in the dance of cosmic chaos, Nyarlathotep's actions aligned with his own ambitions. The connection between universes, orchestrated by the eldritch entity, served as a subtle yet potent thread woven into the God Emperor's intricate design for the future. For now, Fafnir observed, acknowledging the weaving of fate and chaos, and prepared to master the strings of destiny in the unfolding cosmic tapestry.

70.2 A Portal To Genesis Prime

Megatron, the formidable leader of the Decepticons, sat on a massive seat where Abraham Lincoln's statue once resided. Starscream, his loyal lieutenant, expressed admiration for Megatron's brilliant scheme, unraveling the intricate plan surrounding Sentinel Prime's defection.

"Ah... My master! Such a brilliant scheme! So when Sentinel left Cybertron, it was to defect?" Starscream remarked with a mix of awe and respect.

Megatron, exuding a sense of triumph, revealed the true purpose. "He was meant to rendezvous with me here on Earth before fate waylaid us both. The only way to revive him... we needed Prime and his Matrix."

Starscream, recognizing the strategic brilliance, commended, "Excellent strategy."

With a menacing growl, Megatron shot the Lincoln statue and claimed his place on the colossal seat. Igor, a quirky companion, gleefully claimed the debris, chanting, "Mine, mine!"

As the Decepticon troops growled in the background, Starscream inquired, "So he is now your partner, master?"

Megatron corrected him with pride, "He is my greatest triumph."

Meanwhile, Sentinel Prime initiated the transport, opening a portal that drew the attention of both Autobots and Decepticons. Optimus Prime, the valiant leader of the Autobots, attempted to intervene, shouting, "Stop! No, no Sentinel!"

The portal opened wide, revealing a critical moment. Megatron addressed his forces, declaring, "Here we are. Fight us now."

As chaos unfolded, Optimus Prime, recognizing the dire situation, commanded a retreat. The portal remained open, but little did they know that its destination had shifted, thanks to the cosmic machinations of Nyarlathotep.

Optimus confronted Sentinel, questioning his allegiance. "Why, Sentinel? Why?"

Sentinel Prime, fueled by a desire to rebuild Cybertron, responded, "For Cybertron! For our home! What war destroyed, we can rebuild! But only if we join with the Decepticons."

Optimus Prime, committed to defending humanity, disagreed. "No, it's not the only way! This is our home! We must defend the humans!"

Sentinel, with a sense of superiority, proclaimed, "So lost you are, Optimus. On Cybertron, we were gods. And here... they call us machines. Let the humans serve us, or perish! You're lucky I didn't kill you. In time, you'll see."

Optimus Prime, undeterred, declared, "It's not over."

Genesis Prime,

In the hallowed Command Quarters of the Imperial Palace on Genesis Prime, Zephyrus Starborn, Primarch of the Imperial Fist and Herrscher of Rock, received a dire report. Alarms blared, signaling a spatial disturbance set to open in the heart of the Plaza in a mere 10 seconds. As the Cosmic Militarum officer urgently relayed the information, Zephyrus contemplated canceling the portal. However, a message from his father, Fafnir, changed the course of action.

"Zeph my boy, open the portal and conquer the other side. The Star Gods will take a while to even reach the Milky Way," communicated Fafnir, his divine gaze extending even into the affairs of the multiverse.

"Evacuate the Plaza and prepare to invade the other side," commanded the Primarch. The Cosmic Militarum and the Imperial Fist Astartes swiftly assembled, teleporting towards the Imperial Plaza.

The Plaza, adorned with the statue of Fafnir, served as a sacred site. Little did it know that it was about to transform into a battlefield, or more aptly, a slaughterhouse.

"Sigismund, lead your brothers. I want the invaders captured or dead," Zephyrus ordered his First Captain.

"By your will, Father," replied Sigismund before departing.

As the portal opened, Decepticons emerged, their intentions hostile. However, they were met not by the feeble forces of Earth but by the overwhelming might of the Overlord of another Universe.

Gauss Flayers roared to life, Tesla Lightning leapt from one target to another, regardless of distance. What ensued was nothing short of a massacre.

Cybertronians, resilient against physical firearms due to their metallic composition, found no solace against the devastating onslaught of Imperial Gauss Flayers. The plaza echoed with the destruction of the invaders, marking the beginning of a cosmic clash between the forces of Imperium Dominus and the unexpected incursion from another universe.

The skirmish in the Imperial Plaza came to an abrupt halt as Zephyrus Starborn, the formidable Primarch of the Imperial Fists, arrived on the scene. His imposing figure and the sheer might he exuded brought a temporary ceasefire to the chaotic confrontation. The once-deployed Decepticons were nowhere to be seen, and a wave of relief swept through the area.

Zephyrus, acknowledging the presence of the civilians who had gathered to witness the unexpected clash, raised a hand in a gesture of assurance. The cheers of the Dominians, the god-like inhabitants of Genesis Prime, resonated in the air. Among the spectators, a particularly enthusiastic voice rang out.

"Don't mind us, The Imperium is about to invade the invaders!" shouted a citizen, expressing a mix of excitement and confidence.

"Zephyrus, I love you!" exclaimed a female voice from the crowd.

The Primarch responded with a touch of humor and charisma, "Yes, I love you too," as he casually tossed a marble statue of himself toward the adoring citizen, the citizen caught it with ease despite it's size. The Primarchs were not just military leaders; they were celebrities, revered and adored throughout the Imperium and beyond. Their larger-than-life personas and god-like capabilities made them symbols of inspiration and awe.

The Dominians, a race of evolved humans turned divine, enjoyed lifespans exceeding 50,000 years due to their exposure to Honkai Energy. Each Dominian was a walking demi-god, comparable to Kryptonians under a yellow sun, their powers intricately linked to the potent force known as Honkai.

The diverse population of Dominians comprised humanoid races, shaped by the transformative effects of Honkai energy. Skin colors varied, creating a mosaic of hues among the populace. Despite their immense power, the Dominians upheld values of justice, equality, and progress. However, their inherent warlike nature reflected a constant drive for evolution.

The scalability of their powers directly correlated with the height of their civilization's advancement. A unique vulnerability presented itself – should their society regress to a primitive state, so too would their powers diminish. Exploiting this weakness, however, proved nearly impossible, requiring the near-genocidal destruction of an entire civilization.

In this enigmatic society, exceptions existed in the form of the Divine Family – the 18 Primarchs, the God Emperor, and Empress. The Dominians, inherently religious, worshipped and revered this divine family that bestowed upon them the precious gift of Honkai Energy. It was a complex tapestry of equality, progress, and religious devotion that defined the enigmatic Dominian civilization.

Zephyrus's commanding presence echoed across the portal as he led his legions toward the unknown. The rallying cry of "Prospera pro Imperium! Pro Imperatore!" resounded through the ranks, met with the fervent response of "AVE IMPERATOR!" from both Astartes and Cosmic Militarum, even the civilians showing their loyalty.

As each legion entered the portal, Zephyrus, the Primarch of the Imperial Fists, took his turn. Stepping through the threshold, he found himself on a familiar yet different Earth—its blue hue without the technological marvels of the Imperium. "How primitive," he muttered, observing the stark contrast. The moon hung in the white expanse above, and the clash between Imperial forces and the Decepticons unfurled before him.

The cosmic battleground on the moon displayed a spectacle of overwhelming might. The Decepticons, known for their massive sizes, proved to be no match for the strategic prowess and sheer power of the Imperial forces. Even in hand-to-hand combat, where the size disparity should have favored the Cybertronians, Imperial Fist Astartes demonstrated their immense strength, reducing Decepticons to mere fragments of metal. The relentless efficiency of the Cosmic Militarum, seasoned by battles against colossal Korrks, seamlessly adapted to confront the robotic invaders.

Zephyrus observed the unfolding chaos, a calculated dance of power and precision. The overwhelming advantage of the Imperium's forces painted a grim picture for the Decepticons. It was a clash where size mattered little, and the indomitable strength of the Imperium reigned supreme.

Zephyrus, the imposing Primarch of the Imperial Fists, approached the Imperial Artificers who were diligently working on a massive Tesseract Gate—a piece of Imperial technology refined over centuries, originally acquired from the enigmatic Necrons. "Is the gate ready?" Zephyrus inquired, his voice carrying the weight of authority. The Artificers, recognizing their Primarch, bowed respectfully. "It is ready, Primarch," they replied in unison.

With a nod from Zephyrus, the gate hummed to life, its energy rippling as a portal opened on the other side, revealing the familiar skyline of Chicago. Legions of the Cosmic Militarum marched forth, a formidable display of power and precision.

Meanwhile, Megatron grew impatient, seeking answers from Sentinel Prime about the whereabouts of his army. "Give it a moment, Megatron," Sentinel responded calmly. As seconds passed, a portal of unprecedented size materialized, stretching towards the sky and threatening to engulf a significant portion of Chicago.

Sentinel's exclamation echoed, "That is not the portal." Megatron, sensing trouble, readied his weapons. His premonition proved correct as the colossal gate unleashed not Decepticons but the might of the Imperial forces.

Legions of Cosmic Militarum poured through the portal, their power armors glistening in the sunlight. Following them were the Astartes, accompanied by an array of vehicles—tanks, artillery, and more—that filled the ground beneath. Simultaneously, nanomachines began spreading across the planet, an unseen force that would soon alter the course of Earth's destiny. Sky fortresses emerged, flanked by Astral Colossi Escorts, dominating the skies with celestial grace. The Celestial Aeronautica soared across the heavens, their anti-gravity engines defying the limits of atmospheric flight.

In mere seconds, Earth's networks crumbled, succumbing to the overwhelming might of the Imperial forces. The vulnerability of a Type 0 civilization was starkly exposed in the face of the technological supremacy of a Type 4 civilization. The invasion had begun, and the fate of Earth hung in the balance.

70.3 The Subjugation of Earth

Zephyrus, emerging from the portal, cast his discerning gaze upon the cityscape of Chicago. The ancient charm of the metropolis invoked memories of the early days of the Imperium, a sentiment that lingered in the recesses of the Primarch's thoughts. He reflected, "How ancient, reminiscent of the formative years of the Imperium—though my knowledge of those days comes from the memories bestowed upon me by Father."

With a commanding presence, Zephyrus issued orders, "Initiate the takeover procedures. Secure the leaders of this world. I want them in front of me within the next 30 minutes." As he manifested a colossal seat for himself, the Cosmic Militarum forces spread across the world. In every corner, they executed takeover maneuvers, incapacitating military powers and installations. A calculated approach spared some civilians, but every world leader found themselves swiftly plucked from their offices.

In the Oval Office, Cosmic Militarum forces materialized, causing a startle in President Matthews. "President Matthews?" queried the squad leader. The President, attempting to evade, found himself ensnared by a temporal beam, freezing him in time. As the forces teleported away with their captive, chaos erupted in the White House. Secret Service agents unleashed a volley of gunfire, but the bullets proved futile against the Tachyon shields of the Cosmic Militarum power armor. Dismissing the small arms fire, the forces paid no heed to the skirmish, leaving the Secret Service to watch helplessly as their President was spirited away. The ominous announcement echoed through their radios: "Attention all forces, the President has been kidnapped!"

In the imposing presence of Zephyrus, Megatron and Sentinel Prime stood apprehended, their metallic forms encased in the shadows of the towering Primarch and his elite Astartes guards. Despite the visible damages inflicted upon them, Sentinel Prime dared to inquire, "What manner of race are you?"

Zephyrus, towering over them, answered with an air of divine authority, "We are the Divine Humans, Dominians—a Type 4 Civilization, a supreme one. I assume your race of Cybertronians understands the implications of a Type 4?"

"Indeed we do," Sentinel acknowledged, his optics fixed on the enigmatic figures before him.

"Poor race of Cybertronians, caught in a feeble civil war that dooms your own kind. No guidance on how to proceed forward, ensnared in a conflict that has brought Cybertron to its knees and impending demise," Zephyrus remarked, his voice carrying both wisdom and a touch of pity.

"Indeed we are," Sentinel conceded, realizing the gravity of their plight.

"The Imperium welcomes races of all origins. Join us, and we can build more Cybertrons than you could ever conceive," Zephyrus proposed, extending an offer that echoed with the promise of a new beginning.

Megatron, the formidable leader of the Decepticons, saw an opportunity in this proposition. "If you can do what you promise, we will join you," he declared, considering the potential benefits for his kind.

Zephyrus chuckled, clarifying his intent, "I'm not asking you to join me; I'm asking you to join us as another race under the umbrella of Imperium Dominus. But let me show you a glimpse of the capabilities of the Imperium."

Pointing his fingers at Sentinel and Megatron, Zephyrus initiated a mental link, projecting images directly into their minds. They beheld planets and star systems created by the Imperium, witnessing the seamless transformation from cosmic dust to vibrant celestial bodies. The destructive might of the Imperium unfolded before them, showcasing battles that resonated across multiple galaxies. They glimpsed the extraordinary beings known as the Primarchs and the supreme figurehead—the God-Emperor himself.

"Such a race... even Quintessa and Cybertron at their peak would find it hard to survive," Sentinel Prime muttered, acknowledging the overwhelming power displayed before them.

Megatron, typically defiant, fell silent, contemplating the vast possibilities that aligning with the Imperium might bring. The silent acknowledgment spoke volumes about the impact of the revelation on the Decepticon leader's strategic mind.