Chapter Text
Prologue
Children of the Gods
Dappled sunlight filtered gently into the temple chamber through the ceiling, which was as clear as glass yet solid as steel. Over one mile of ocean water lay above this sanctified room. Schools of fish flitted past the undersea structure, keeping their eyes on it as though they expected it to grow teeth and attack.
The temple chamber itself was ornate and beautiful. Images of tall beings, clothed in magnificent robes and helmets, were carved from gold and towered over the room. A constellation of symbols and hieroglyphs were carved into the floor, dividing the room into four equal quadrants and drawing the eye towards the central shrine. The room had only one exit: a pressurized airlock that led deeper into the colossal undersea complex.
With a series of clicks and hisses, the airlock door opened and allowed a tall slender being to enter. He was humanlike in appearance, but on closer inspection, it was plainly obvious that this… thing had not been Human for a very long time.
Gur-Mon Madron wore subtle, muted colors that made him difficult to spot from across the room. His eyes glowed with fantastic purple light, but were impossible to see from anywhere other than directly in front of him owing to the hood he always wore. Madron had barely taken two steps into the temple chamber before stopping in his tracks. He wasn’t called the Elder’s Chosen Hunter for nothing. He could sense another presence in the room.
Slowly… quietly… Madron reached up and unshouldered his hunting rifle. The Darklance was the finest, most accurate, and most powerful firearm that had ever seen service in the Second Hyperspace War. Only one existed in the entire Galaxy, and now the Chosen Hunter aimed this lethally accurate weapon into a darkened corner of the room where the shadow of a gold statue was hiding someone.
Looking down the sights and into the scope, Madron mused to himself:
“It would be so easy…”
Lazily, without any real thought going into it, Madron’s finger began to slip inside the trigger well.
Two pinpricks of purple light flickered in the shadows, then went out. Suddenly, Madron felt a strong tugging sensation on his back! His weapon fell to his side as two irresistible forces clamped down on his arms like a vice! Then Madron heard a soft hissing noise as his attacker became visible once more.
The Elder’s Chosen Assassin could have killed Madron in that moment. Having grabbed him from behind, she had pressed her Katana into his chest with one hand while holding the little Shoto Blade to his throat with the other. Madron turned his head, gave the Assassin a look he knew would make her angry and said:
“Good to see you, sister.”
The Chosen Assassin bared her teeth at Madron and hissed.
She wanted to kill him.
He wanted to kill her.
But before either of the Chosen could do or say anything else, a deep booming voice filled the whole chamber, causing the Assassin and the Hunter to let go of each other.
“Miscreants.”
The voice of Kon-Mon Dessurik, the Elder’s Chosen Warlock, rolled across the temple like an approaching thunderstorm. Each of his footfalls made the floor tremble, and the air around him shimmered as raw Psionic energy radiated away from his massive body.
“Restrain yourselves.” Dessurik commanded. “Lest you be restrained.”
Reflexively, Madron took a step back from the Assassin and raised his Darklance, taking aim at the Warlock and putting one finger on the trigger. This time, the Assassin stepped directly into the line of fire and put one hand on the barrel of the rifle, forcing Madron to lower it.
“No!” she spoke in a raspy, strangled whisper. “The three of us… called upon together? Something has changed.”
She cast a look at the Warlock.
“On that we are agreed.” Dessurik replied. “The battlefield has shifted. Our masters have need of us once more.”
The Chosen Hunter scoffed.
“Sounds to me like they’re afraid.”
This was the wrong thing to say. Something seemed to snap within the Chosen Warlock. Dessurik clenched both of his fists and bright purple Soulfire ignited in his palms! Pointing one burning finger at Madron, Dessurik shouted:
“You DARE defile this place with your wretched tongue!?"
With a mischievous smirk, the Hunter answered:
“Oh, I dare…”
The conversation was over.
The Warlock began to charge a powerful Psionic attack, his whole body enveloped in flickering Soulfire.
The Hunter took aim with his Darklance, putting the crosshair right between the Warlock’s eyes.
The Assassin crouched low and began to draw her Katana, aiming to strike at the Hunter’s trigger-hand.
Before the fight could start, the Chosen were interrupted! A pillar of brilliant violet light shot up from the shrine in the center of the temple, scattering through the transparent ceiling before being diffused by the seawater above. All three of the Chosen stopped preparing to attack, disarmed themselves, and fell to their knees in reverence while the image of an Ethereal began to resolve itself. Hovering in the air above the shrine, it looked down upon the three warriors.
“Our children…” The Angelis Ethereal spoke in a motherly tone, sounding almost kind and friendly. “Each of you possess our strength, each of you possess our wisdom. Of all our creations, you are truly blessed.”
The three Chosen smiled inwardly to themselves. The Angelis Ethereal continued:
“Your charge was a simple one: The subjugation of all those who would see our grand design falter. We have been pleased… until now.”
Those inner smiles turned to much more horrified expressions. The Angelis Ethereal’s voice became a little cold:
“The New One has returned to the battlefield, many years after we thought it to have been lost at the hands of our strongest. We are disappointed."
The Assassin tried to hide her ignorance.
The Warlock tried to hide his embarrassment.
The Hunter tried to hide his contempt. He failed.
“Thought you were the strongest.” Madron mumbled under his breath.
The floating image of the Angelis Ethereal suddenly became a lot less angelic. Its fury and rage became known at once! A column of Psionic energy descended from above and struck the Hunter! Wracked with intense pain, Madron hunched over while Dessurik smirked in a satisfied way. The Angelis Ethereal admonished the Hunter a terrifying voice:
“Arrogance! Defiance! You have walked among the Humans for too long! You have been corrupted. You can be reclaimed.”
Just as quickly as the bombardment had started, it stopped. Allowed to raise his head at last, Madron saw the Angelis Ethereal revert to a less-demonic form. In an almost sweet voice, it said:
“Yet perhaps, you may also be redeemed. Perhaps you all may be redeemed… A greater battle still lies ahead…”
Psionic energy washed over the temple and swirled around the three Chosen. Their minds were filled with images from the Second Hyperspace War… memories of all that had come before, all that had been lost:
The Warlock witnessed the Blorg Homeworld succumbing to the Beast, turning a sickly black and red color. In the orbit above, Blorg warships turned against one another as the biomechanical virus began to spread across the fleet.
The Hunter saw the Taiidani attempting to unleash a superweapon against the Beast, only for the creature to subvert the weapon and turn it against its masters. A whole armada, thousands of people, wiped out by the thing that was supposed to be their savior.
The Assassin saw a Partogan Hyperspace Gate being attacked and bombarded by Partogan warships while an endless stream of infected starships poured out of the gate. As the gate itself is demolished, a handful of infected ships run the blockade and escape into Hyperspace.
All three of the Chosen saw a vast armada of warships assemble in the Alpha Centauri star system, massing into a colossal combined fleet, then depart as one. Partogan, Levakian, Assurian, Micore, Kelt, Vanian, and Amadii warships all flew in formation together, united by their common destination… Earth.
The visions faded, but the dark implications were burned into the minds of the Chosen.
“Our time on this world draws to a close.” The Angelis Ethereal said, “Yet we need not abandon it completely at our departure, for one among you is surely ready to claim this world as their own. One among you is worthy.”
The Chosen began to shoot suspicious glances at one another, sizing each other up.
The Angelis Ethereal resumed its terrifying voice and appearance, all the better to make its will perfectly clear:
“Bring the New One to us. Crush all who would stand in your way. To the one that succeeds: our everlasting favor! To the others…”
The silence was the only explanation the Chosen needed. They looked up at the Angelis Ethereal and nodded their understanding.
“You are the Chosen! Do not fail us. Now GO!”