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Conduit
“Touch my mind, O Old One.” Sulak spoke. His gills quietly fluttered in the water that filled his chamber. “Let me hear your thoughts. Command me. Tell me of what to do.”
Sulak, being one of the Xorda, had patience. He was ancient for his kind, and had braved a journey that had taken a part of his life. His followers went with him though. Here at the edge of the great darkness, he waited for the orders that was to be given to him by that which he considered above all. His singular eye was focused on the abyss of impossible density and utter nothing. Coasting while their warp drives recharged had given him a sense of humility regarding the concept of time.
They called this point of the galaxy the Gaping Maw. The supermassive black hole at the center of the galaxy. The ships, all one hundred Xorda vessels, would not even be visible next to the singularity. All he could see out of the reinforced viewport was darkness. Complete and utter emptiness that stirred primal feelings in his hearts. Only the accretion disk of material orbiting the event horizon give any lighting. Otherwise, the chamber was dark. He was in the same element as the one he wished to witness.
There was nothing at first. Sulak thought that he had been abandoned, forsaken by the godlike being in front of him. But then, joy. A sound in the back of his mind. It was a sound that was utterly alien to him. It was unknowable and yet he heard it clearly and he divined meaning from it.
“Speak to me O Lord. I wish to know your thoughts.”
It spoke.
Sulak recoiled in the effect. Pain shot through his irregularly shaped body. The reaction caused his skin pigmentation to change to a light pink – one that was either used for ecstasy or pain. It was a color he had not been familiar with in contrast to his usual gray pallet – Stoicism and thoughtfulness. As a Priest of his people, he was expected to appear as such.
“Oh you speak, great Captive! Your voice brings me happiness! You speak regularly now O Lord! I need guidance from you!”
Again, the being spoke. Sulak didn't understand a single word, but understood every nuance of its tongue.
“I feel your struggle. You seek freedom. Your long struggle. Your captors' prison is failing.”
A spike of amusement from the entity. Sulak could feel that utterly unreal laugh. It would have made him smile if he had a mouth to express it. Mouths. The organs of the substandard species. Thousands of species have been encountered by the Xorda. Each had been judged wanting and had been eliminated. His species had evolved to peak suitability. From the tidal pools of his homeworld of Xorda to the nebulae of the far stars, his people showed their dominance. Sulak could remember the words of the philosopher Tommola: “The struggle calls life. If life does not struggle, then life will not live. Only in struggle does the miracle of life thrive.”
And here he was almost thirty thousand lightyears from his home. At the helm of a magnificent vessel speaking with what Sulak considered to be God.
“Yes, we will stand with you. You who are placed in no place. We and all ourselves will stand with you.”
The rumble which came from the entity could be interpreted as 'good'.
“I am honored by your touch, O Captive. I will relay your words.”
Sulak spread incense into the water around him in reverence. He could smell in the warm liquid. He also hummed a holy script from the oceans of his holy city back on Xorda. He gave thanks to the Darkness in front of him and left his chambers. Sulak wandered the halls of his vessel. Young Xorda who were born out during the journey respectfully passed him. Sulak, a priest, demanded respect by his presence. His fins were adorned with jewelry and piercings suitable for his caste. Heavy regalia covered his robe as well. It weighed him down, but he managed to stay buoyant in the water. Sulak's strength was not only spiritual, but physical as well.
At last he reached the cathedral, a central part of his ship. A massive orb that appeared for all intents and purposes to be open to space, though it was well shielded in the bowels of his vessel. Hundreds of neophytes surrounded small places of worship to the Captive. They were young, open minded and ready to receive whatever whispers the Old One would give them. The scholars saw Sulak approach and they lowered themselves to show his superiority.
“Children.” Sulak said. “It speaks to me.”
A female of four hundred by the name of Quaram drifted close to him. “Holy one, please let us hear its knowledge.”
Small streams of bubbles came from the neophyte's gills. They were eager to hear what their master had to say.
“Then gather.” Sulak raised himself above his learners. “Listen to me, faithful Xorda who pledge their love to this Captive! The time is coming, and our salvation is at hand! The Old One dares to break the bounds of its prison! It will gain its freedom!”
Cheers from the young who looked at their leader with joy. Their gills vibrated in anticipation.
“But we cannot do this alone! Our brothers and sisters of the Homeworld Brood must be let known of this development! Our self imposed exile must end! We must call to those who we left so long ago! The Captive has been found and it is amused by this.”
“Who has found it?” Quaram asked. “Who dares hurt the beautiful Captive One?”
“Heathens!” Sulak barked. “Infidels! Those who stood against us eons ago! Those we thought crushed! That so which I spit in their memory!”
“Who?” A tadpole named Yuush asked. He was young. Less than a hundred years old. This was good. This would drive him to serve the Captive further. “Who would dare hurt our Lord?”
Sulak remembered the fire of their world. He remembered their disgusting gait. Their air-breathing lungs, and their hideous leathery skin. A species no different than any other the Xorda had eliminated, but now his hatred of them had been revived.
“Humanity. Oh it has been so long. Such a miserable species. They survived the Cleansing. This cannot be though. We saw their cities razed to the ground… and yet they take to the stars.”
“You are troubled, Lord Sulak?” Quaram asked.
“No, child.” he responded quickly. “I am not worried. On the contrary: I am excited. I am excited to finally meet the one enemy who stood up to us and finish what we somehow failed to do 12,000 years ago.”
“If they offend you, then we will kill them in the Captive's name!” A youth cried.
“Yes! Humanity will bow to its will!” Another Xorda shouted, tentacles waving in excitement.
“Glory to the Xorda! Glory to the Prisoner! Humanity will die on our blades for their sins!”
They cheered in waves. Sulak could only look satisfied at their faith. He had thousands at his command, but if Humans were able to brave the dangers of the Great Void, then they would be formidable opponents. He blessed his followers and left the cathedral. He glanced at the native kelp forest that decorated the area, took in the beauty, and left. He had to ponder how Humanity could threaten the Captive. They were a weak species bound to their own planet. He and his brethren bombed their world with their Gene Bombs and lances of fire. What wasn't killed through radiation was killed in direct bombardments that rent continents. Yet, the Prisoner seemed… concerned. He reprimanded himself for even thinking such a thing. He would forgo his dinner for doubting his Lord.
Humanity, Humanity. Sulak passed through whole hallways and lifted himself to his private chambers, a large room near the bow of his vessel. He floated in front of the massive sweeping window. Light from the galaxy curved around the event horizon of the Great Void. Lights from a hundred thousand years ago appeared as a great halo around the nothing of the black hole. He felt humble in its majesty. It was the throne of a god after all.
“A score to settle it is then.” He whispered to himself. “We have the advantage again. It would be foolish not to make the first move. This time, we eliminate your species. And so the game begins again. I will pray your extinction will be slow…”
Sulak found the ancient console that remained off for hundreds of years. He fed it power. The screen flashed to life and the old glyphs of his people flashed on it. Sulak could barely contain his excitement, calmed his ancient heart, and then began his message.
“Let's see just how you've grown up.”
For those who are not 100% familiar with the Chaos Chronicles... yes, the Humanity that Sulak is referring to was destroyed completely. This differentiates this version of Mobius from the comic version. However, Humanity also survived... but it's not the kind that he thinks. Alternate Universes are a real game changer. Regardless, Humanity is still well outmatched. They have no idea what's waiting for them when they reach the Prisoner.
“Touch my mind, O Old One.” Sulak spoke. His gills quietly fluttered in the water that filled his chamber. “Let me hear your thoughts. Command me. Tell me of what to do.”
Sulak, being one of the Xorda, had patience. He was ancient for his kind, and had braved a journey that had taken a part of his life. His followers went with him though. Here at the edge of the great darkness, he waited for the orders that was to be given to him by that which he considered above all. His singular eye was focused on the abyss of impossible density and utter nothing. Coasting while their warp drives recharged had given him a sense of humility regarding the concept of time.
They called this point of the galaxy the Gaping Maw. The supermassive black hole at the center of the galaxy. The ships, all one hundred Xorda vessels, would not even be visible next to the singularity. All he could see out of the reinforced viewport was darkness. Complete and utter emptiness that stirred primal feelings in his hearts. Only the accretion disk of material orbiting the event horizon give any lighting. Otherwise, the chamber was dark. He was in the same element as the one he wished to witness.
There was nothing at first. Sulak thought that he had been abandoned, forsaken by the godlike being in front of him. But then, joy. A sound in the back of his mind. It was a sound that was utterly alien to him. It was unknowable and yet he heard it clearly and he divined meaning from it.
“Speak to me O Lord. I wish to know your thoughts.”
It spoke.
Sulak recoiled in the effect. Pain shot through his irregularly shaped body. The reaction caused his skin pigmentation to change to a light pink – one that was either used for ecstasy or pain. It was a color he had not been familiar with in contrast to his usual gray pallet – Stoicism and thoughtfulness. As a Priest of his people, he was expected to appear as such.
“Oh you speak, great Captive! Your voice brings me happiness! You speak regularly now O Lord! I need guidance from you!”
Again, the being spoke. Sulak didn't understand a single word, but understood every nuance of its tongue.
“I feel your struggle. You seek freedom. Your long struggle. Your captors' prison is failing.”
A spike of amusement from the entity. Sulak could feel that utterly unreal laugh. It would have made him smile if he had a mouth to express it. Mouths. The organs of the substandard species. Thousands of species have been encountered by the Xorda. Each had been judged wanting and had been eliminated. His species had evolved to peak suitability. From the tidal pools of his homeworld of Xorda to the nebulae of the far stars, his people showed their dominance. Sulak could remember the words of the philosopher Tommola: “The struggle calls life. If life does not struggle, then life will not live. Only in struggle does the miracle of life thrive.”
And here he was almost thirty thousand lightyears from his home. At the helm of a magnificent vessel speaking with what Sulak considered to be God.
“Yes, we will stand with you. You who are placed in no place. We and all ourselves will stand with you.”
The rumble which came from the entity could be interpreted as 'good'.
“I am honored by your touch, O Captive. I will relay your words.”
Sulak spread incense into the water around him in reverence. He could smell in the warm liquid. He also hummed a holy script from the oceans of his holy city back on Xorda. He gave thanks to the Darkness in front of him and left his chambers. Sulak wandered the halls of his vessel. Young Xorda who were born out during the journey respectfully passed him. Sulak, a priest, demanded respect by his presence. His fins were adorned with jewelry and piercings suitable for his caste. Heavy regalia covered his robe as well. It weighed him down, but he managed to stay buoyant in the water. Sulak's strength was not only spiritual, but physical as well.
At last he reached the cathedral, a central part of his ship. A massive orb that appeared for all intents and purposes to be open to space, though it was well shielded in the bowels of his vessel. Hundreds of neophytes surrounded small places of worship to the Captive. They were young, open minded and ready to receive whatever whispers the Old One would give them. The scholars saw Sulak approach and they lowered themselves to show his superiority.
“Children.” Sulak said. “It speaks to me.”
A female of four hundred by the name of Quaram drifted close to him. “Holy one, please let us hear its knowledge.”
Small streams of bubbles came from the neophyte's gills. They were eager to hear what their master had to say.
“Then gather.” Sulak raised himself above his learners. “Listen to me, faithful Xorda who pledge their love to this Captive! The time is coming, and our salvation is at hand! The Old One dares to break the bounds of its prison! It will gain its freedom!”
Cheers from the young who looked at their leader with joy. Their gills vibrated in anticipation.
“But we cannot do this alone! Our brothers and sisters of the Homeworld Brood must be let known of this development! Our self imposed exile must end! We must call to those who we left so long ago! The Captive has been found and it is amused by this.”
“Who has found it?” Quaram asked. “Who dares hurt the beautiful Captive One?”
“Heathens!” Sulak barked. “Infidels! Those who stood against us eons ago! Those we thought crushed! That so which I spit in their memory!”
“Who?” A tadpole named Yuush asked. He was young. Less than a hundred years old. This was good. This would drive him to serve the Captive further. “Who would dare hurt our Lord?”
Sulak remembered the fire of their world. He remembered their disgusting gait. Their air-breathing lungs, and their hideous leathery skin. A species no different than any other the Xorda had eliminated, but now his hatred of them had been revived.
“Humanity. Oh it has been so long. Such a miserable species. They survived the Cleansing. This cannot be though. We saw their cities razed to the ground… and yet they take to the stars.”
“You are troubled, Lord Sulak?” Quaram asked.
“No, child.” he responded quickly. “I am not worried. On the contrary: I am excited. I am excited to finally meet the one enemy who stood up to us and finish what we somehow failed to do 12,000 years ago.”
“If they offend you, then we will kill them in the Captive's name!” A youth cried.
“Yes! Humanity will bow to its will!” Another Xorda shouted, tentacles waving in excitement.
“Glory to the Xorda! Glory to the Prisoner! Humanity will die on our blades for their sins!”
They cheered in waves. Sulak could only look satisfied at their faith. He had thousands at his command, but if Humans were able to brave the dangers of the Great Void, then they would be formidable opponents. He blessed his followers and left the cathedral. He glanced at the native kelp forest that decorated the area, took in the beauty, and left. He had to ponder how Humanity could threaten the Captive. They were a weak species bound to their own planet. He and his brethren bombed their world with their Gene Bombs and lances of fire. What wasn't killed through radiation was killed in direct bombardments that rent continents. Yet, the Prisoner seemed… concerned. He reprimanded himself for even thinking such a thing. He would forgo his dinner for doubting his Lord.
Humanity, Humanity. Sulak passed through whole hallways and lifted himself to his private chambers, a large room near the bow of his vessel. He floated in front of the massive sweeping window. Light from the galaxy curved around the event horizon of the Great Void. Lights from a hundred thousand years ago appeared as a great halo around the nothing of the black hole. He felt humble in its majesty. It was the throne of a god after all.
“A score to settle it is then.” He whispered to himself. “We have the advantage again. It would be foolish not to make the first move. This time, we eliminate your species. And so the game begins again. I will pray your extinction will be slow…”
Sulak found the ancient console that remained off for hundreds of years. He fed it power. The screen flashed to life and the old glyphs of his people flashed on it. Sulak could barely contain his excitement, calmed his ancient heart, and then began his message.
“Let's see just how you've grown up.”
For those who are not 100% familiar with the Chaos Chronicles... yes, the Humanity that Sulak is referring to was destroyed completely. This differentiates this version of Mobius from the comic version. However, Humanity also survived... but it's not the kind that he thinks. Alternate Universes are a real game changer. Regardless, Humanity is still well outmatched. They have no idea what's waiting for them when they reach the Prisoner.
Category Story / All
Species Cephalopod
Size 1280 x 757px
File Size 62.7 kB
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