26. Divine Retribution

Within the Crystal Labyrinth, a third of its chaotic psychic essence coagulated into one hyper-condensed point. The effects were evident to all within and even outside of its malleable walls, attracting the curious gaze of all the Warp inhabitants.

Psychic power clashed against psychic energy in a cataclysmic explosion of light within the realm, all by the presence of the Changer of Ways upon the intruders of his domain.

The energy fields of the Lethe Matrices within the Khrave Cruisers were of brilliance surpassing the stars themselves. All the psychic power washing over them in storming waves was absorbed and recycled, supporting one another in a feedback loop of ever-increasing intensity, effectively protecting everything within.

Yet there was a limit, and it was reached and exceeded in less than a scant few seconds. It was too much for the Lethe Matrices to handle at once; the engines overheated, and the cooling and isolation systems were overwhelmed soon after.

The runes absorbed and metamorphosed far more energy than they were designed to by their creator. However, there was no stopping it; turning them off would immediately lead to the fleet's strongest defense collapsing and everyone experiencing the raw power of the Great Deceiver, a fate desired by none.

Regardless, the Lethe Matrices and the Cruisers were made with this scenario in mind: the overflow of energy and its subsequent consequences were points of much importance.

One by one, the cores opened in kaleidoscope lotuses of lights, and the immense psychic energy was deviated like sunlight upon a silver mirror. This alleviated the other systems and subsystems enough to sustain the mere crushing presence of the Dark God.

But that was the extent of it, and Tzeentch observed the futile action of the intruders. These insects dared to enter his domains and ignored his changing rules. Still, he stood studying them and their contraptions with great curiosity, interest even, but also a plethora of alien emotions that mortals could not begin to fathom.

The Architect of Fate wanted to learn more, far more, but his unfathomable sense could not pierce through these fascinating and ingenious runes not even his most gifted servant would have concocted.

Not of their own wrongdoing, talents were rare, and he did not fault them for their lack of it. Each had roles to play. The runes were still not used to their true potential; they were bastardized, toned, down versions and, to add salt to the injury, incomplete with evident imperfection in craftsmanship.

Something that had for source the Fallen God but was put into practice by exceptionally less competent individuals, explaining their poor put into practice.

Still, it was a masterpiece of warpcraft rarely seen, and one that irked him to the highest degree, for even amidst its state far from the excellence it could reach, he failed to comprehend in its entirety.

It was as if the Warp and all he embodied blockaded him from glimpsing deeper as what he unraveled denatured themselves, greatly limiting the knowledge obtained. And even then, there were concepts within that eluded him and confused him, for they lacked anything he knew; it was alien, an anomaly.

Logical within the given context, the Magician had for origin a place not of this Universe. And it only made Tzeentch frustrated, and the desire to learn grew more and more.

His presence led to a loss of knowledge, an ironic travesty, and heresy of the highest order. One that was both irritating and overjoying him in a paradox of emotions and thoughts. Such an impossibility was the source of many possibilities.

But he was neither a rageful mindless brute nor a childish infectious slug, and he wanted to learn, to reap the knowledge and wisdom of such creations. If an outside perspective did not suffice, he would change it. By force if necessary, and that was of present necessity.

Countless psychic tendrils of many shapes and colors came from the Changer of Ways' unthinkable form as they latched against the helpless fleet, ensnaring the energy fields in their contradictory power.

The act was delicate, surgical, and meaningful; the purpose was not to kill and destroy. They dug insidiously through the defenses with laughable ease—pitiful attempts to fight them, failing in all their grandeur. But gentle as the act may be from one point of view, it wasn't the case for another.

"The abomination breached our defense! Follow the protocol. The Beast is with us! We shall show no fear and exemplify our defiance!" a Khrave exclaimed in the command room of the flagship.

"We have lost contact with Lower Helmer Falka and her ship!" a few seconds later, another said, fury contained under her voice as only the equipment and heavy conditioning kept the irrational outbursts at bay from every piece of information received and the grim picture they painted.

Like all the Khrave presents, the threat of going feral was real and an ever-present aspect of their everyday life for various reasons. But it was stressed to its extreme for the ones who had volunteered in this most holy mission.

"The fields are entering critica-aaAaAAAHHH!?" a Khrave screeched in utter agony, his voice of pain both physical and psychic as he fell on the Palestone ground.

His scream only grew in intensity as he began to convulse on the ground. His limbs twisted, muscles swelled and thinned, and bones cracked. Everything began to distort, but it was not the species' usual shapeshifting; it was something else, something that was wrong and out of his control.

It was something far more sinister and horrifying; mouths, teeth, limbs, hair, feathers, eyes, and flesh of every shape and color grew and bulged into a horrific creature, and soon more followed.

Screech and sounds of body splitting open created a melody of the most insane in a ballet of feathers, tentacles, and blue skins.

Yet many resisted the corruption of the Dark God, many choosing to destroy their souls through their armor, robbing the Great Conspirator of his control while all fought back with extreme defiance. A technique originally used to starve the Star Gods and rob them of their prizes, a scorched earth tactic only used in last-case scenarios.

But there was a safe haven within all Cruiser, pockets of reality resisting the Architect of Fate's influence if with immense difficulty. The most faithful authority of the Church of the Beast, the reason for it, Deacons were praying and chanting as Archdeacon Majun applied with fervent passion the Five Pillars of Magic etched into their holy scriptures.

Sensation. Through it, life is born, a new journey to be experienced with every shade, bright or bleak.

Awareness. Through it, Sensations are understood, and the journey of life becomes real, and confusion diffuses itself into a beginning.

Faith. Through it, Awareness and Sensation gave life meaning, passion, and purposes, the directions to which the journey leads, and a shield against obstacles.

Knowledge. Through it, Faith and Sensation shall not misguide Awareness and life itself into an unwanted path to which none could walk back; it creates caution and the deeper understanding of existence with its subtleties.

Reflection. Through it, Awareness and Knowledge grow, and life flourishes, easing the journey and changing fate itself as countless paths open for Faith and Sensations to direct and experience.

These five divine edicts resonated through the souls of every Khrave. The amulet nesting on the robe of Archdeacon Majum glowed and created a sphere of psychic power connected in a web of runes to the most important of the entries fleet, warding off the effect of the mutative psychic power of most of its influence.

Yet it was not enough; it never would have been. But that never was the goal. It was not up to them to fight, not in such a way.

-Resistance is futile. Courage will not prove to be a rewarding mistress; it never was and never will be.- a voice of many tones and nature echoed across the mind of all, with it a low, amused chuckle followed by the Khrave that had turned into abominations.

-Mortals, People of the Dawn, Mistake of the Archdjinni, be honored to be graced by my presence, for you are symptoms of my direct intervention. An event so few had lived through, but I did not come to kill, to extinguish your pitiful life as pawns of a deceitful animal desperate for the freedom it does not deserve. Join me, be part of me, accept my gifts, and your existence shall be elevated beyond your grandest dream!- Tzeentch declared, his power of countless facades surging through every Cruiser as rage began to rise through his trapped audience at his words.

None could resist.

However, there was no fear as the corruption of fleshes, minds, and souls spread through all without end, sweet lies, half-truths, dark whispers of forbidden knowledge, and realities digging into every stray thought and twisting the essence of oneself.

The prayers quieted to a low hum, and the resistance dwindled as the sensation of calm washed over the fleet. But that was not out of despair and acceptance; no, it was of certainty, confidence, and delight.

The spell they had weaved had entered its final phase, but it was a minute part of their joy. The answer to their call was coming, one of extreme violence and straightforwardness.

"Unholy parasite of the abyss, our prayers have been answered! Face the divine retribution of a true God!" Majun hollered through manic smiles of more mouths than ever as he stood still. His body was not entirely his anymore, but his soul and thoughts were and remained steady to the one only worthy of worship, respect, and submission.

Below the dark veils of Yuggoth's high atmosphere, two of the five Blackstone Fortress shifted, leading to an according amount of the pentacles in its atmosphere to follow suit. Runes that had not seen use for eons came to life in a cascading pulse of lights, putting into evidence patterns of impossible design representing stories from time immemorial.

Energy darker than any other swallowing everything in existence crackled into reality from pentacles, lashing the psychic power of the blooming Blackstone Fortresses. In parallel, they changed form, breaking bridges to build new ones using the surrounding resources and energy, accumulating immense power in instants.

For one moment, the seals around the ancient planet became transparent, showing a place of primordial wildness, gigantic mountains stretching to the heavens and oceans of depth unseen.

Then the Blackstone Fortresses fired, and two beams excited Yuggoth, two thin beams of darkness so intense their very presence destroyed the sense of dimension, the concept of length, width, and height inapplicable to them.

"Is that so, mortal? Quite an arrogant statement from a slave of an ignoramus imprisoned God." Tzeentch intoned curiously through the back of a corrupted body, focusing partially on the amusing mortal, the strongest and knowledgeable amidst the fleet but also the most stubborn.

The Khrave were magnificent life forms. Psychically gifted, cunning, and deceitful. All with the ability to change from and trick their prey to feed off their ambition. Rarely had the Architect of Fate seen such creatures, and he dearly desired them.

"What metho-" the Great Deceiver could not end his words that every particle of his psychic presence vanished, his influence dissipating instantly, leaving only traces of shock and dread.

The environing chaotic psychic stream calmed, the world turned deaf, and all colors and light left the world replaced by grey, black, and white.

Then all came back in an explosion of countless sensations, and an incomprehensible screech echoed across to the Crystal Labyrinth and beyond to the deepest layers of the Warp as two beams of unfathomable darkness slammed onto the Dark God's form

Tzeentch hastily reacted by conjuring in and around him a multifaceted shield of glasses and orbiting mirrors of impossible geometry displaying numberless images, sounds, tastes, and emotions of the past, present, and future, both false and true.

But it proved futile. To the latter's immense surprise, the spell confectioned from the tapestries of fate shattered into countless fragments.

In a cataclysmic explosion, the two dark rays antithetical to all reached their target, where they melded into one, and the Crystal Labyrinth with the Warp itself shook as the master of the domain was impaled by the hungry darkness from direction unseen.

His evershifting body recoiled with the force to shatter star systems as he was sent in the opposite direction, leaving annihilation behind as he slammed into castles, labyrinths, mountains, and oceans alike. The darkness radiated behind, eroding all indiscriminately, granting true death to all unlucky in the vicinity, regardless of their status.

The endless Warp seemed to dry for the briefest of moments. Every percent of available psychic power was used to diminish the damage and satiate the shapeless darkness.

Using this, the Architect of Fate ultimately gained enough control to act, flee, and wisely retreat. Once psychic and dark power reached a crustal mass, the Dark God took the chance and stopped his endless fall by teleporting himself to the deepest level of his realm where he sat, dark cracks pulsing with alien energy in a gaping wound everywhere and nowhere at once.

He sat silently on a throne of broken marble as he began to carefully tend to his injuries, the pains of intensity and complexity never experienced before. There was much to ponder on.

The dark, anomalous energy feasted on his essence enthusiastically, destroying itself as it did so in a cycle with only the disappearance of itself

It was not a threat to his existence, but the factor of importance was in the quantity and quality. It was far, far, far more dangerous. It did not kill; it indiscriminately erased matter, energy, and concept.

It operated on a different plan of existence and unbiasedly wished to replace all others, but it could not, for it was finite in resource as its source was imprisoned. But for how long shall it be the case? And what of it? How could it be used?

"Questions and answers for me to build and formulate." Tzeentch intoned as he observed the world, and a dark, agonizing chuckle of amusement and aggravation echoed from him like the rings of damaged bells driving insane to the minds of millions.

"It was a trick, or was it? A well-crafted trap or a stroke of unfavorable events?" his chuckles ended on this frigid realization. Mouths and backs went on again amidst countless others' voices, each voicing their opinions and pain in conflicting patterns and logical fallacies.

The Khrave had vanished from his domain and sight; they had reached Yuggoth. It was evidence.

Where once they were was leftover of altered psychic energy and within it an encrypted message of a language that should not exist for the following thousands of years using the calendar of this same species from which this language came.

Snapping a clawed finger on itself, the message appeared in the room and read with a tone of mockery and sardonic joy oozing with arrogance:

Better luck next time, God of Sorcery. I have more than one trick under my hat, and I do not play by the rules of your kind's little game.

"Let's see what fate reserves for us, Hoopa." Tzeentch declared, burning the message in purple flames. For the first time in his existence, there was uncertainty and trepidation, for he did not know.

But what he knew with certainty was a new player had awakened and that the game would go on. However, what happened was seen by all aware of what was in the Warp; what it entailed was a different matter, but it was a sign that the gears of change had begun to turn.

A figure wrapped in a tattered cloak with a grinning theatrical mask for a visage cackled humorously as contrary to his brothers and sisters, he knew what this little remembrance from the War in Heaven was a sign.

It was not up to chance that some of the Blackstone Fortresses had fired. An idea that some would prefer to believe over the reality of the matter.

"I have so many tricks to show you, ohohoh!" Cegorach laughed as he placed his hand, a royal flush, and the perfect copy of himself he was playing with exploded into crying confetti.

He will not have to play alone this little card game from another Universe for long. Oh, he couldn't wait any longer, but he had to wait for the perfect time to perform.

*

My P@treon is up to chap 31 if you are interested.

p@treon.com/user?u=60424165