POPZ!

 A few minutes prior, The Webway, Old One command ship with the Krork legions. 

Slagar massaged his forehead in anxiety while pacing around the command deck. Nineteen Honored Ones had already been lost in the War and the Great Counsel members had slowly grown cautious, rarely appearing as field commanders in the endless wars. Slagar was different from them, and ever since he had guessed the truth about his Teacher's disappearance, he no longer considered himself a member of the Great Counsel.

With the abandonment of his position on the Counsel, his Warp title of Honored One was stripped from him and he was replaced with another, more enthusiastic, member within a week. Since then, Slagar had joined as the head of the Krork war legions, fighting at the forefront of the war, while searching for any signs left by his Teacher. Slagar was a powerful asset in each war, considering his unique title of Webweaver, was enough to easily dwarf an Honored One in power alone, so despite his slight weakening, he was still enough for the C'tan to be wary.

Throughout the many wars and battles, Slagar has lost more than just his left arm when fighting. His right eye was also lost and large scars could be seen going down his back, while his tail showed signs of limb reattachment. His left arm had been replaced with a prosthetic, incorporated with advanced shielding technology inspired by the Necrons, to provide him something similar to an advanced personal ray shield. Slagar tended to lock himself on the command deck alone, away from the rowdy Krorks so he could have peace and quiet.

"Idiots. We can't get back the lost time. It has changed again in their favor." Slagar muttered to himself.

Slagar had been performing continuous divinations through the Warp to counter strategy against the Crypteks, but through a slight deviation and manipulation of the Crypteks, the Krorks had started a small fight amongst themselves, delaying their journey by an extra 7 minutes. At the rate they were going, they would arrive too late and Aymon's forces would have already been obliterated.

He hesitated if he should even call off the Krork's support of them, considering there seemed to be not much he could do to change the circumstances. He wrestled with the decision as an experienced commander, knowing that the odds would not be good if they entered a fight. But at the same time, they needed to fight. If the C'tan gained control of this final location, it would be checkmate for the Old Ones. 

Slagar stopped pacing and seemed to think of something, and then his gaze hardened. He had made his decision. He opened up the communication channel on the command ship and linked it to Gork and Mork's location.

"Gork, Mork, We are about to have a final Wagh," Slagar reported to them.

...

Gork and Mork were fighting once again. They pummeled each other in the hangar bay of the command class ship, two gigantic Krorks that were now way too big to be natural lifeforms. They were like small titans and the Krorks around them were small in comparison as they cheered on the two twins. Gork and Mork had outgrown the need for weapons as if one could fit them at this point. So they tended to use whatever they could get their hands on.

Vehicle transports were used as clubs, and other Krorks were tossed like small rocks at each other with little to no effort. Suddenly the fun fight the two of them was interrupted by the buzzing of the ship communications.

*Brrr*

"Gork, Mork, We are about to have a final Wagh," Slagar's voice came from the speakers

The ship was soon filled with Krork screams.

...

A few minutes passed before the entire ship shook like an earthquake.

Slagar was thrown from his seat before he staggered up to check the ship's status. He had a serious look on his face since he had not seen this happen to the ship in ANY of his future predictions.

"What happened?" Slagar spoke aloud to himself.

He pressed and tapped a variety of buttons on the command deck, in an attempt to discern the situation. However, it would seem he wouldn't need to do much as a sudden appearance of a rose-shaped silver robot appeared and circled him curiously. Its blue eye released a light that scanned his body, while Slagar held up his prosthetic arm and activated the ray shield for protection.

"I was curious, what Father's student was like." The small robot said innocently.

"I see why he likes you. " The robot bobbed up and down as if it was nodding.

"Who, what are you?" Slagar asked cautiously and with some trembling nervousness in his voice.

When he moved his psionic power with his mind to feel the creature, it didn't feel like a cold soulless being, but a warm and pure like of an innocent soul. But this was not the cause of his trembling. Slagar felt an aura he could never forget, the aura of his old Teacher. 

"Hmm, I don't have a name... yet." The creature circled Slagar two or three times, looking him up and down.

"I have decided. I will choose you, Slagar the Webweaver." The creature announced.

Then suddenly a burst of light like a flash bang spread out from the creature and filled Slagar's mind with infused knowledge of what exactly was happening. He had been chosen by this messenger, an Ember. It would support him for the rest of its life, with the hopes that Slagar would ascend, and access an energy called the Incensia. However, the most important information he learned was...

"Teacher?" Slagar asked weakly, with some tears sliding down his scale-filled face.

Strangely enough, Slagar heard two more cheers that were loud enough to be heard from the thick insulation of the lower deck to here. The distinct voices of two Krorks he knew very well.

"POPZ!!!!!"

***

Author's Note:

Have a good weekend.

More chapters on the pat reon:

https://www.pat reon.com/ MatheuDeWitt