Six months after the events of Chaos and Consequences
For as long as he could remember, he wondered who he had been before. Clouded memories surface every now and again, but nothing concrete. Nothing that would give him a sign of his true purpose; of why someone brought him back to life. Not once. Not twice. Not a hundred times.
Over, and over, and over again. He was brought back. From where, he had no idea. Despite what he assumed were thousands of ultimate ends, what awaited beyond never presented itself. Perhaps that’s exactly what it was: the end. Absolute nothingness. An absolute end. One moment he was drawing his last breath, the next, his first started again.
The thought chilled him slightly. After all, there had to be something after, right? There had to be another existence, or a new beginning for one’s soul, their literal essence to materialize into. If not, what’s the point of existing in the first place?
Sounds of glass shattering in the distance followed quickly by sudden shouting brought him back from his drifting consciousness. Something wasn’t right. He felt it in his core that beat in place of his heart. Emerald pulses quickened from within as the metal rings rapidly rotated around, as if warning him to danger. A tip from an anonymous source spoke of possible Resistance members hiding out in an abandoned warehouse on Brae, where the tall, dark-skinned man found himself standing now.
He had been given strict orders before his group entered the building. “Stay here.” The powerful Aetherial male had commanded him. “Don’t leave this spot, no matter what, you understand?”
The man never spoke for as long as he could remember, though he did nod slightly in acknowledgement. The Aetherial male of slightly shorter stature and pale skin patted him solidly on the shoulder before leading the rest of the group inside the huge warehouse.
Words need to hold a purpose, otherwise they are needless noises. I may not speak, but when I do, it will be with purpose.
Since this group of various species and misfits rescued him from his seemingly eternal slumber, he had rarely made any choices. He had gone along with any plans, followed any commands, and done as told. But what if that had led him to his original end? The very first one that he, at least vaguely believes, ended with gunfire and screams. Was it due to action, or inaction?
Despite focusing as best he could, the man could not remember.
He also could not stand if these beings were in danger. They protected him at all costs, sometimes against unimaginable odds, without hesitation.
Why? Why do they continue to put their lives at risk for my own? Is my single life worth all theirs combined? Do I hold secrets they know and are unwilling to divulge? If so, what would those secrets reveal regarding who I am, or what I am?
I must find out. I must know who I am, the reasons behind always brought back from the brink of existence. My lost past may always haunt my memories, but the only chance I have at remembering is keeping these Aetherials and my maker alive.
I have made my choice. Harm will not befall you today, Aetherials.
His body reacted without his mind needed to direct it. A left shoulder slammed open the door, bursting it off its hinges as it clanged onto the floor beside him. His eyes darted back and forth, scanning the scenery for where they may be. Shouting and what sounded like mini explosions shook the ground beneath his bare feet. He took off through the cluttered entrance in the direction from which he hoped they originated.
Weaving back and forth through desolate hallways, the rhythmic patting of his feet propelled him by empty rooms from what looked like centuries of neglect and abandonment covered each one in a blanket of dust and rust. As his arms pumped back and forth and his feet carried him forward toward the increasingly louder commotion, he wondered if he had been a worker in a place like this. Was his prior life, or lives for that matter, filled with satisfaction, or were they ravaged with a monotonous misery?
He knew he would never find the answer. Even if he did, would he want to know? Or would his past shake him to the core within his chest from an existential crisis?
Before his thoughts overwhelmed him, as they often threatened to do since he awoke six months ago, the winding hallways opened suddenly into a massive production room. The floor was covered with conveyor belts and what appeared to be welding stations, while the outside walls were lined with thousands of small glass windows, though a good portion of them were smashed or cracked. With a quick glance around, he could tell it was once an impressive factory that rivaled anything he witnessed on the Core planets in scale.
At the epicenter of the massive facility, a battle of blue and different hues of purple magic wreaked havoc among the machinery. Volleys back and forth of the devastating blasts left smoldering holes wherever they struck, be it glass or metal. Light and dark purple blasts continued to fly, but the azure ones Malik grew accustomed to seeing from the sometimes-ornery Aetherial master subsided.
Intertwining tentacles of dark purple material blocked shot after shot from the former Galactic Imperium detective Joren Steel’s blasters. Despite the huge man’s persistent shower of plasma belching from the guns, the tall being seemed to be able to anticipate each one, intercepting them with one of the multiple flailing appendages.
It was then he spotted the Aetherial named Kai Stormbringer motionless on the ground as weird tentacles protruding from behind a tall, hooded being wrapped themselves around his body and retrieved it to their owner. Even from this distance away, the man could see a wicked smile creep over the being’s gaunt face as he slung the body over his shoulder.
The other shorter Aetherial, Lily as most called her, yelled in anger as she threw her glowing daggers towards the aggressor. It batted them away, sending them clattering to the floor harmlessly. She snarled and cursed at him continuously sending spittle flying with unbridled rage.
An emotion surfaced from the depths of his mind. It was strange, foreign, yet somehow familiar enough to bring him a little warmth of comfort in it. He closed his eyes. The emotion intensified as he continued focusing on it, allowing it to consume his thoughts, to take control and guide his movements.
The core within him hummed audibly with power as the emerald Aether powering it flowed down his arms that hung by his side. The feeling was nearly overwhelming, overtaking every fiber of his being and guided his movements in a way he found almost cathartic.
So, this is what it’s like? To feel pure power in its most absolute form is exhilarating.
The strange being pointed a long finger at the man bathed in green Aether and spoke in an almost too-calm tone amid the chaos. “You’re not an Aetherial, at least not one I’ve felt the presence of through the Aether. You clearly aren’t completely organic, though, either. So then, stranger, what the fuck are you?” The humanoid being hissed through the dark hood masking his face. The motionless form of Kai Stormbringer hung over the man’s long shoulder.
As emerald Aether wrapped itself around him in its warm embrace, pulsating from the Aetherial Core embedded in his chest, the man spoke with purpose. “My name is Malik Maholmes. You will leave this place, interloper. Or I will see that you meet your maker today.”
A crooked smile parted the hooded man’s lip up as he lifted his hood back. An abyssal darkness replaced his pupils as the dark purple Aether illuminated his gaunt and pale facial features. Though he was human in form, the lack of pupils gave him an otherworldly appearance, even to Malik. He narrowed his eyes on the aggressor, ready for a fight.
Bones pulling apart popped loudly from clenched fists as the man obliged by also slowly cracking his neck from side to side. “As you wish, Malik Maholmes. We will see how long you last.”
I will last as long as needed, stranger. I now know my purpose, and I will not cease until it is accomplished.