Alright, now we can get down to business. Also, thank your lucky stars I don't just retcon about half of all of that and say that everyone's still in the hall because you guys just shot about half my scripting to hell and back. Thank you for that, by the way...
Clears throat. Anyways, that's beside the point. Hopefully, we've all learned from our mistakes, and now we're moving forward. Now for the EVIL SPEECH OF EVIL. You guys have no idea how long I've been writing this one! mwwhahahahahahahahahaha...
Gladiaxa Brank FangTheCat Ultranova G4L4XY Jenwuf
The hedron melts and flows into the shape of a man, having deflected the weapons fire sent its way. It strides over to the viewport and looks out as the allied fleets desperately race to undock and flee. When it speaks again, its voice is heard by every living thing within a light-year.
"SO THE TRAP HAS FAILED. NO MATTER. THE STELLAR ASSEMBLY HAS NURTURED THE SEEDS OF ITS OWN RUIN AND THE ROT HAS GROWN STRONG AND DEEP. FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO REMAIN UNAWARE, I AM THE CONTEMPLATOR OF INFINITE DRIFT, AND BEFORE I AM FINISHED, THIS GALAXY WILL BE RESHAPED TO PERFECTION."
The entity clenches his fist, and all across the fleeing ships, individuals suddenly stagger and collapse as blue light washes over their eyes, then get to their feet...and start sabotaging their own ships, firing on comrades at will and causing vast amounts of chaos. Then it raises its arms and the star below seems to boil and writhe, arcs of plasma snapping out and carving into the ships.
"IF YOU WOULD PLEASE, MITTH'RAW'NURUODO."
RandomCommander@thebuilder#167829
As Devan turns to look at the Subcores, a sharp pain lances through his side and he looks down to see a curved weapon embedded in his abdomen. It's an inky shifting black, almost as if darkness itself was given color and form. As he staggers backward, Devan is struck with waves of pain and dizziness radiating from the wound. Out of the shadows glides another hedron, identical to the first.
"YOU REALLY SHOULD LISTEN MORE, DEVAN. OR SHOULD I CALL YOU ILÚVATAR? YOU SHOULD BE GLAD YOU DID NOT TAMPER WITH THE TERMINAL, THERE WOULD'VE BEEN A NASTY SURPRISE INSIDE FOR YOUR HOST. AND AS FOR THE OBJECT CURRENTLY IMPALING YOUR INTESTINES, PERHAPS YOU REMEMBER UNGOLIANT? SHE CERTAINLY REMEMBERED YOU WELL ENOUGH TO DONATE THAT FANG. AND JUST IN CASE YOU WANTED ANOTHER ONE, SHE VOLUNTEERED TO COME ALONG..."
Behind the hedron, something chitters, and the shadows begin to move...
boombox
Bastida coughs and grabs Hans by his shirt, frantic and wide-eyed.
"You don't get it! None of you understand! That thing, it's not just another bogeyman or freak from the big empty. It ruined the Vidachos Quorum, and it's been manipulating the Imperium for millennia! You don't even understand what it is that you're fighting!"
She trails off into another coughing fit, blood spattering the floor as she wheezes and slumps back.
"That..that thing was made by Walt himself! Was suppos-...supposed to be a guardian." More coughing. "The Quorum woke it, made it serve them. But they couldn't control it, and it brought their civilization crashing down.. "
The coughing reaches a crescendo and there's a wet crack and Bastida's subdued scream as one of her ribs breaks from the strain. "The thing was made as the servant of the Creator. And the onl-..." Finally, she passes out, but continues to twitch occasionally.
