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The First Sage: Apocalypse

The war devastated everything. Mankind destroyed itself. America, China, Russia? All gone. Every country...If the biological weapons didn't kill you, the radiation did. But Liam survived. He lost everything, and everyone. Now, he is doing all he can to make it one more day. But how many one more days has it been? Even he isn't sure anymore. And what is that white streak that just crossed into his little hiding spot in the mountains? Looks like it is being chased by several other streaks of brown. Is that...fox ears? Follow Liam as he learns just how much the world changed after mankind was forgotten. Is his scientific knowledge of any use in the jungles that have grown where the cities used to be? Luna is doing everything she can to stop the Breaking. The last Breaking shattered the world, exterminated countless tribes, and wiped out the Ancestors. Now she has met an Ancestor who has been foretold to prevent the Breaking, or to cause it himself. What will she do? And why did she have to meet someone so handsome in the middle of her Quickening? Dakkon was a humble village guard with a secret. Once his people were massacred, the burden on his chest was heavy. Filled with responsibility for the demise of his people he is hesitant to tell his new companions the truth; His tribe would still be alive if he had just been willing to die first. How will Dakkon confront his inner demons and can his newfound companions be trusted? Follow the genesis of magic, but not necessarily the death of science. For this is the story of a new beginning, not an ending.

Sixpips · Ficção Científica
Classificações insuficientes
35 Chs

Pilgrimage [2]

In the heart of a savannah a few thousand miles South of Liam and Luna, there was a crater. This crater was massive, over 30 miles wide and close to a half a mile deep. The gene energy in the area was turbulent, stoking emotions and driving the will to survive to the peak.

At the core of this crater was a scene to give any race horror; there were tens of millions of small snakes. Each one no longer than a foot. They had stubby arms and legs. They were a squirming mass. The most disturbing part was that they were all ferociously biting and consuming each other.

In the midst of all this walked Ipili. They had gentle and reverent looks on their faces as they calmly observed the wanton destruction. Each of these Ipili was smaller, only about five and a half feet tall. Also, they each had a mane of thick hair that cascaded down their backs, neatly tied with hemp to keep it from being in the way.

As they observed the massive pile of squirming snakes, an unusual occurrence was seen. As the Ipili walked through the writhing mass, the snakes seemed to separate instinctively around them. Even though the mass was close to two feet thick, the Ipili walked unimpeded.

Suddenly, above the din of hisses and death rattles, a triumphant glow appeared. A snake that seemed no different in coloration from the others with its mottled brown scales gave out a low roar as it doubled in size in only a few seconds. The local Ipili 'nursemaid' moved over quickly to look at his coloration and striation pattern.

"Hrm. Helical diamond spiraled neck and red flecks in the iris. Fangs seem to have a deviation, four fangs instead of typical two of a viper." As the Ipili nursemaid observed the newly grown two foot snake, it rapidly began to eat again, diving into the swarm of its brethren to feast.

"Demonstrates time awareness. Definitely a reincarnation." The Ipili who had reincarnated knew that the few minutes after a survivor of the Clutch took the second step of their growth, they would be moved to a small area in the center of the Clutch to fight for survival against other second step serpents.

After that would be third, and fourth. After the fourth step they would finally be able to step out into the world as an Ipili warrior. This process culled over 90% of the Ipili offspring. However, no one complained. The strong survive in this world and to expect forebearance or kindness was a mistake.

As the nursemaid prepared to contain and move the serpent, just like any other day, she froze. The serpents had higher instinct at level 2 than 1, but that did not mean they were capable of communication.

However, she saw that the serpent before her in the few minutes she made her assessment had killed three serpents and arranged their bodies. It didn't consume them, it arranged them. The bodies formed into a single word…" Fortnight."

The serpent was asking for two weeks amongst its brethren to devour them? The nursemaid thought the concept preposterous and was about to wrangle the intelligent serpent when she heard a voice.

"Don't make me come back to the clutch in a few years and feed your body to the hatchlings. Minerva, you know what to do."

She froze. 'it can speak, and it knows my name?' Minerva looked closely at the serpent before her and realized something she hadn't noticed before.

Above it's two eyes were two projecting horns. One over each eye. They were slight, but they were there. Minerva was terrified. Only the tribal chieftain had royal horns. The horns were a sign of developing to the highest level of their species.

But the Chieftain hadn't announced his intent to return to the Clutch? Minerva thought for a moment before realizing, the Ipili Chief had far to many enemies to brazenly announce he was going to weaken himself to the level of a hatchling.

Minerva prostrated herself and said "Your orders are mine to follow sire. May the great serpent swallow the world and his eternal name represent the stars!" Minerva almost cried. Her chief was so powerful, so incredibly capable this early in the swarm of the Clutch, yet he remembered her name? She was a lowly nursemaid, how could she not be touched?

The Ipili nursemaid bowing to a small serpent would have created a riot if other Ipili saw her, but she felt it perfectly natural. Their Chief. The lord of Conquest. He would always conquer the Clutch.

"I shall guard you as you remain here for two weeks my Lord."

The snake stared hard for a moment at the Ipili nursemaid, and glanced back at his prey spelling out "two week".

Using a little more of his precious gene energy, which was so hard to come by at this level, the Chieftain spoke again, "No, I meant too weak. Put me with the four foot serpents. Leave me there for the remainder of my time in the clutch."

Minerva finally understood. Her Chief wasn't trying to get a boon for his past titles. He was trying to sharpen his spear, turning himself into a more powerful being from the earliest in his regression. Fighting the four foot serpents would indeed take immense power and skill for him as only a two foot serpent.

'Of course our king has never taken the easy route. He has always worked the hardest of anyone.'

Minerva carried the future Chief to the four foot serpents.

Boros, the eternal Chieftain. Of all the races, his was the post held the longest as a leadership figure. His stories of Conquest were legendary, and the blood shed under his feet could fill all five of the great basins to the brim.

What Minerva and in fact, no other Ipili knew, was that the greatest weapon Boros had in his arsenal, was his almost prophetic sense of instinct. Boros had rashly sent his core into the Clutch and decided he had to get stronger than he had ever been in his entire life. Why? There was no enemy encroaching on his borders. There was no legendary warrior slaughtering his men on the front lines as he pushed his Conquest further and further. No, there was no outward signs of danger. However, last night in the middle of the night, Boros awoke with his scales ready to jump off him. His instincts weren't just screaming at him that there was a fatal danger. They were screaming that nothing he could do in this lifetime would allow him to avoid death. It was inevitable. This level of danger had never existed in Boros' experience before. He destroyed half of his palace reflexively looking for a source for his instincts of danger, but found nothing but dead Ipili corpses as a result. It took him several hours to completely calm down and reflect on his instinct before he realized what his senses were telling him.

There was something coming. Something that to the current him was an unsurpassed destructive force. He didn't care about the rest of the Ipili, but if he himself would also die it meant they were gone first. Boros realized that whatever was coming was colossal. Massive.

A titan the world had never seen before. And he would have to face it. Boros made the immediate decision to return to the Clutch for his rebirth…for the 134th time. A record above records. No other organism had ever suffered the most grueling basics of their life to the point they become ingrained like breathing or sleeping, as much as he had. It simply wasn't possible.

Since he had existed over 4,000 years, he knew that there was no lifeform that could compare to his basics. And that was where Boros' true strength lay.

His ability to reduce the complicated to simple made him able to decimate opponents using the most efficient methods possible. And yet, his instincts that had never been wrong told him he would die if he faced what was coming. Boros laid down his pride and ignored the fact he was in the prime of his leadership.

All for the sake of survival. Because that was the purpose of life. This was the pilgrimage. To grow as powerful as possible, conquer the clutch as many times as possible, and above all…to become so strong as to be known as an Ancestor.

Only an Ancestor would be respected for eternity. Boros had a feeling that the thing that triggered his instincts was something so grandiose, so powerful, and so world encompassing, that only one on the level of an Ancestor would ever be able to combat it.