"At this early stage of developnt, events still appear to seem chaotic. No clear pattern is visible. But the seeds have already been laid."
***
Darkblade Solitude was, for the first ti in his life, at the rcy of another being. It was just as distasteful an experience as it had seed. The blindfold blocked his vision, the bag over his head overkill. Or perhaps an attempt at humiliation.
He grinned in the darkness. His captors would find that such pitiful mind gas would do little against him. Trained since childhood by the Brotherhood of Starcrow, a premier assassination group within this sector of the galaxy, he had more ntal resilience when he was a boy than most trained soldiers ever would.
His captors had also failed to block his ears. Incompetence or overconfidence, it mattered not to Darkblade. But it was not an opportunity he was willing to overco.
His mories from before being knocked out were hazy, whatever gas they used had bypassed his suit's protections as well as his innate resistance. Still, the training had been ingrained into him so deeply he almost did it on autopilot.
Two in front. Three behind. All of them favour their left-hands. Carrying plasma rifles, safeties off. Judging by the gravity, we're on a small moon. These winding corridors...
He sniffed, brow furrowed as he sorted the thousands of scents. There was the musk of the unwashed bag, still soaked in the fluids of the poor fellow who wore it last, there was the sll of plastic and heat from their rifles, of tal and dust.
There it is...that faint, unmistakeable odour of death.
This is New Ithaca.
From being completely lost, having no idea where had been taken, Darkblade Solitude had, while blindfolded and handuffed, narrowed down his location to that of a single moon. Others may allow themselves at least a few monts to be impressed at themselves.
Darkblade Solitude felt no such useless emotion as 'pride'. He was closer to machine than man, an outlier even amongst the Brotherhood of Starcrow, a unique disposition. And so, with nary a mont lost, he filed away that piece of information and moved swiftly onwards.
I was out for 17 hours, 35 minutes and 3 seconds counting. That matches the distance to New Ithaca. Judging by the vibrations beneath our feet, we are not near the surface. The deep bowels then.
Of course an assassin of his calibre had morised the labyrinthine layout of the moon in its entirety, and it did not take his calculating mind long to cross reference the turns and twists he had already taken to find his exact position.
From an entire galaxy, he had narrowed down his exact position to the tre. A feat even the most advanced computer would have a hard ti pulling off. He filed that piece of information away and, once again, moved onwards to the next step.
Already, his mind had raced ahead, countless thoughts colliding and coalescing, reaching a single conclusion.
The job on Kassius V was a ruse. This was the plan all along. So it has co to this then.
For a brief mont, his thoughts faltered, but his iron-bladed will cut down that weak hesitation without rcy.
I understand. The final tool of an assassin, after all, is his death.
With that final conclusion ca the sense of serenity and calmness that arises from complete and utter confidence in one's purpose. All unnecessary questions such as "why" had been banished from his mind, leaving only a single, lit pathway to his goal towards which he stepped with unshaking feet.
***
Elsewhere, the Zahto was in his own quarters. They were barebones, the habit of his ascetic lifestyle not one he would give up despite the insistence of his hosts. His title "Zen" was one he had chosen long ago, when he had made the ultimate choice, for the first and last ti.
Shaking his head, Zahto Zen laughed at himself self-deprecatingly. He had found himself reminiscing more and more of late. Perhaps Axilis was right, and his age really was catching up to him. He touched the golden circlet, still resting on his head lightly. The light hum of its response washed away any doubts that clouded his mind.
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He had iron in him still.
The call with the other Zahtos had just finished, and they too agreed on the urgency of the situation. Each was more than willing to put forward mbers of their own Orders, even after they had heard of their destination.
"Outspace."
Even muttering the word felt ominous. Such an unholy thing.
Regardless, they had eventually co to a conclusion, and the finalised crew had been put together. It was going to be a busy few days when they arrived, preparing for their expedition.
Still, despite all of Axilis' reprimanding, Zahto Zen could not help but hesitate still. So bone deep instinct that warned him about what was to co. Sothing so vague that on any other day he would have dismissed it as a mild discomfort.
But when so much was at stake, how could he forgive himself if he were to overlook even the smallest detail? Idly spinning the circlet around his head, a soft glow overtaking it, he concentrated on that feeling, entering the state of his nasake.
He felt the barriers of his mind fall away, his thoughts expanding like an ever-growing bubble of gas. A freeing sensation, like finally removing shackles after years of imprisonnt.
The cognitive plane was visible to him, sparking and dancing with the stuff of ideas. But that was not why he was here. He turned his attention inward, focusing on the deepest parts of his soul. The fear centres of his brain, those primal structures unchanged since their inception billions of years ago, honed during a ti his people were naught but prey for greater things.
Ancient things.
From a ti before they wore bandages to shield others from their power. For no mortal could look into the sun unhard.
He stripped away all else, leaving behind that a single thread that shone with a different colour. Tinged with the colour of dread. He traced its origin, all the way down into his subconscious.
Here the thoughts were less clear-cut, amalgamated into a single, colossal sea. Yet it was often the case that its currents would be hiding sothing that even the higher mind would not have noticed. Most would remain forever ignorant.
Zahto Zen dived into those waters, following that illusory thread into its depths. There he saw it. He saw-
A loud beeping sound interrupted him, and his expanded mind rushed back into place. The brilliance of the cognitive plane slowly faded, the material plane coming into view.
"Yes, what is it?" his voice was uncharacteristically hoarse. A response ca after a few seconds.
"Sorry for the disturbance, Great Zahto. We found an intruder, it seems like Silence Reunion are making a move again."
Sighing, the Zahto responded.
"Bring him to my chambers. I will deal with him here."
"Yes, Great Zahto."
The connection cut out, and the room was returned to silence, allowing him to ponder once again on that inescapable feeling. He had found its source, but the pattern still eluded him, like it was being obfuscated by a colossal shadow.
Still he had understood its gist. That pull, that compulsion that enamoured Slalgulathon, it had caught his attention from the beginning. For sothing that so ticulously made sure to remove its traces, it had left sothing so obvious like that behind? This force, whatever its goals may have been in interfering with the ritual, was incredibly intelligent while at the sa ti adamant about its own anonymity. So why would it leave behind a trail of breadcrumbs?
Unless...
The realisation struck like a lightning bolt from a clear blue sky. But before he had a chance to consolidate it, he heard a knock on his door.
Shaking himself from his trance and walking over, he pressed on the keypad, the cara outside displaying a hooded figure being led by an escort of ard guards. Briefly checking the authenticity of their markings, he input the code and the door slid open.
As it did so, the hooded figure ca into view. His appearance was pitiful, blood-soaked and breathing heavy, but his thoughts were uncharacteristically calm.
No...focused. His entire being is intently focused on...?
It was already too late. His circlet spun into power, but he had already used it just now, and that split-second delay was sothing he could not afford.
He felt the heat before he saw it. Intense, burning radiation.
Then, as though in slow motion, he saw it. A blinding white.
Bursting out from within the bagged and bound captive. At that distance, the ard escorts were incinerated instantly, boiled alive as their plasteel armour lted through them.
Then the sound. A deafening roar like an exploding star, unchecked in its furious wrath.
The roiling heat spread in a cone shape channeled towards Zahto Zen, the concentration of heat and radiation enough to cook a planet twenty tis over. At the very last mont, his ntal energy finally flickered into existence, a flimsy barrier forming before him.
But it was like a soap bubble in the face of the sun.
The explosion scraped and gnawed at it like a ravenous beast, radiation leaking through a web of spreading fractures. His bandages had begun to singe and curl under the heat. He roared out, but no matter a man's strength of will, he could not hold back a hurricane alone.
Ah...so like this...
His barrier did not burst, nor explode in glorious fashion. It simply shattered into nothingness. And the stalled explosion swept through the room like an uncaged hurricane.
The heat alone sublimated the room and its contents into plasma within a fraction of a second. The radiation shielding barely held out for a few seconds before succumbing to the sa fate.
The tunnels collapsed as all the matter within a ten tre radius simply ceased to exist. Yet still, even within that boiling, seething, scorching tornado of super-heated plasma, a single object still remained.
A golden circlet, albeit warped, withstanding a temperature thousands of tis hotter than the core of a sun.
Eventually, the roaring beast died down, its hungry blaze satiated, having gorged itself on all those caught within its reach. The alarms began to sound out, though it was far too late.
All that remained, amidst the rubble, was a single, soot-covered circlet. Warped and lted, as inert as the rock around it. The light that once dwelled within, extinguished for the final ti.
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