The Will to Survive

Approximately ten months after the events of Chaos and Consequences

Tobias watched as the man on the Holovid in front of him rambled quietly. It had been months since the prisoner was captured; it had been almost as long that each day he was subjected to numerous forms of interrogation and torture.

Yet still, somehow, he remained unbroken. Sure, he rambled aimlessly to the four walls around him. That was normal behavior for some of the inmates at Darklight Prison. This one was special, though. He was an Aetherial, one of the last of his kind, a lucky survivor to this point, a traitor to Emperor Tenon and the Aetherial Order. He had been banished after returning from a failed mission, where he left his fellow Aetherial brethren to die.

He was also Tobias’ brother. Older brother, to be exact. Though, he didn’t much resemble it now. The muscles that once filled his brother’s clothes had all but disappeared, leaving a shell of the man he once knew and trusted.

Now, Tobias resented his very existence. The brother who left him to die eighteen years ago, whose betrayal led to Tobias being trained under the watchful eyes of Emperor Tenon. His brother would never know the pain he suffered, the endless nights that felt as though they would never end, the despair and desperation as he struggled with unimaginable loneliness.

It’s your turn now, brother. It’s time I made you feel the same way I have all these years. You left me, I trusted you, I loved you as my older brother, and you abandoned me. I hate you. I hate you with all the fibers of my being and every essence of Aether I channel.

You will never know how I felt. The horrors I’ve witness would drive any sane person to commit terrible acts. Hell, maybe I have already. Though, maybe you have as well. Maybe we aren’t that different after all this time.

A guttural scream from the video feed broke Tobias away from his thoughts. Perhaps that was for the best; they tended to get the better of him the deeper he sank into the depths of his subconscious mind.

The man on the projection ranted wildly, cursing, and vowing vehemently to kill this Endbringer, whomever he was. The verbal tirade continued, with the boney man standing and rising to his feet as he pointed a finger directly at the camera in the corner of his cell. Tobias didn’t need to be in front of that room to feel his brother’s anger. He felt it splashing through the Aether, like a boulder impacting with the ocean beneath it after it was launched from a mountaintop.

It filled Tobias with a strange satisfaction; one he rarely felt these days. His methods were working. Before long, his brother would break. He was so close now, as the screaming and barrage insults continued to fly, a slight smile curve his lips upward.

All this time I thought I was the crazy one. Look at you. You’re a raving lunatic in there. It’s truly pathetic. I thought you were this mighty Captain Demico slayer. It’s been almost a year and still that’s all anyone can talk about. They may not see it, but clearly, that was just dumb luck, like most of your other victories in life. You may have a will to survive all this time, but you aren’t the only one.

A feeling manifested in the deep recess of his brain. It was foreign, uncomfortable, and unwelcome. After a certain point in his life, he forgot this was something one could feel. His eyes drifted away from the monitor and he sank away from the world around him; the feeling overtaking his entire being.

Guilt.

His smile immediately disappeared and his brows slanted in frustration. I don’t understand. If this is what I’ve wanted for so long, then why do I feel this fragment of guilt? It shouldn’t be here. You left me to die, you bastard. I should not feel this way!

No, no, no! I will not allow myself to feel this way about you. You are a monster, Kai Stormbringer. Even if you don’t see it, I do. No way in the six hells should I feel guilty about our situations. You had this coming. You deserve this pain the same way I deserved to have my own brother stay with me instead of fleeing like a coward.

A voice as quiet as the wind hissed softly in his mind. “You’re better than him, you know. You overcame your challenges. This poor human will not ever become as strong as you. This is your true calling, Endbringer. You agreed to my bidding, do not forget that. We made a pact beyond mortal flesh and words.”

Tobias shook his head and the guilt out of it. He needed to snap out of it before his master snapped. “Yeah, I remember. We have a deal. I will fulfill our pact, Master Apophis.”

He turned over his wrist and pressed a few buttons on the revealed device under the cuff of his trench coat. A pleasant chirp sounded as it connected with one of the guards stationed outside the cell.

“Yes, Endbringer. Are you ready for inmate?” a gruff voice answered from the other end.

“I am. Don’t rough him up too much on the way over today.

“As you wish. We will have him strapped in momentarily.” The call ended with a soft click of the transmission cutting off.

Still not used to that trick. I don’t know how he does it, and I don’t think I want to anymore. Okay, let’s get this over with then.

He breathed in heavily and let his thoughts escape with a lengthy exhale. He stood up from his chair, turned off the Holovid, and tidied up his coat. As he tapped in the Aether, he felt the overwhelming ocean of despair and desperation from the millions of prisoners held within the Darklight Prison. If one was to unlock the unbridled control of the Aether that Nekrofiends sought, this was one of a handful in the known galaxy to do just that.

The sensation was exactly what he needed to compose himself. He refused to let weak thoughts and feelings rust away the mental fortitude he had built up to this point.

I’ve overcome the test of my will to survive. Come, brother, let us see who has the stronger will to survive while on the edge of madness.

Purpose

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.

The Toughest Goodbye

Nineteen years before the events of The Edge of Madness

Don’t show him you care. Don’t show him how hurt you are by this reckless choice. You can do it. Hold it together, girl. He will come around on it. He must.

Nayomi inhaled mightily and exhaled her frustration at the man standing in front of her with the front door open. Her white knuckles shook with rage, but she kept her face as stoic as possible. Only the slight narrowing of her eyes gave an obvious sign that she couldn’t believe the nonsense coming from his mouth.

The young man with shoulder length chestnut hair continued to foolishly explain his reasoning. “Look, I know this isn’t easy to hear. I love you with every fiber of my being, Nayomi. This isn’t easy for me either- “

Nope, that’s it. Now you’ve done it.         

She couldn’t hold her emotions back any longer. “This isn’t easy for you?! That’s all you can come up with? You’re a real bastard, Kai Stormbringer. Times get tough and instead of staying and fighting, you take the coward’s way out and run. Where are you going to go? Are you going to change your name? Change your whole identity?”

He stood there, speechless. She could see the hurt in his beautiful blue and gold eyes. A gentle breeze intruded on the argument and blew the bottom of his dumb coat. She hated that coat, so damn much. It looked so ridiculous on him. And yet, she wanted nothing more than to keep it as a memento, if this was their final conversation.

“You know what happened the last time I stood and fought. I nearly died, along with Master Dracken and my own baby brother! I won’t let that happen to you. If they come for me, and I know they will eventually, I couldn’t bear knowing I put you in danger. Not now; not ever.”

“You really think they’ll come now? It’s been over six standard months. If they haven’t found you by now, why in the six hells makes you think they found you?”

He squirmed awkwardly. There was something he wasn’t telling her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but somehow, he must know they were closing in. And quickly.

She could see the mountains over his shorter stature. The puffy clouds with a light brown sky looked painted above them as the bright blue sun began to set. It would have been a moment to enjoy the picturesque landscape; one she would have wanted to enjoy with her husband. Not today.

How did it come to this? Why did it have to come to this?

A subconscious decision to shoot her right hand out and grab his wrist as he began to turn away surprised them both. He looked at her hand, then into her eyes. Like his, they swirled like a galaxy inside the lavender-colored irises. A flood of emotions streamed down her beautiful, dark complexion.

“I’m pregnant. I wanted to wait to tell you. Please don’t leave. You’re my husband, my partner, my best friend. I don’t think I can raise this child without you.”

A tear rolled down his flushed cheek. He wiped it away quickly with a flash of his hand. Surprisingly, he held her hand in both of his. They still held their eternal warming comfort. “Goodbye, Nayomi. I hope that one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me and understand this is something I must do. After all, we do what we must, because we must. Right?”

That’s what they always said. And then they abandoned us. Just like you’re going to abandon me. Abandon the both of us.

Kai leaned forward and gently kissed her soft cheek. Nayomi didn’t respond. She didn’t know how. After one last look into his eyes, he turned and slowly left. As she watched him walk outside, she wondered if she would ever see him again. Or if this was the last goodbye.

Something wasn’t right. She didn’t need her uncanny ability to sense true feelings through the Aether to notice so many little yet obvious signs. The young Aetherial didn’t have his normal confident posture. His shoulders slumped and his head hung low as he walked away. His feet almost dragged on the ground, as if he had to fight against his own will to keep moving forward and not turn around.

He was stubborn. Too stubborn. She knew she couldn’t stop him if he made up his mind to leave, so she decided to do the next best thing: give him a reason to stay alive until he changes his mind.

Her voice cracked as she called out to him one last time. “Kai. If they do find you, give them hell. Never forget me. Don’t you dare forget us. If you do, I swear by the old gods I will haunt you until the day you join me among the stars. And if today is the day, then make it count.”

If it was the last time she saw him, she was sure it would be her toughest goodbye.

Damaged Goods

Eight years before the events of The Edge of Madness


“Why the fuck did you pick this one up?” growled the Wulvern pirate. His teeth barred at his shorter, and fatter, companion who didn’t shy away from the confrontation. Both wore shiny metal piecemeal armor, and hardly any of it matched in color or texture. Some was smooth grey pauldrons, while other pieces were onyx-colored boots and gauntlets. Though their weapons were more technologically advanced, their outfits looked ridiculous to Grimhorn.

“It was the only one we could catch; stupid beast stood right in the damn way, in fact. Look at it, basically harmless in that cage. No wonder its horn is all smashed up like that. Dumb thing probably ran head-first into a boulder.”

The pair howled in laughter at the insult; the fatter one bending over as he grasped his overflowing belly.

Rhonar had little need for armor. They were strong warriors, born with armor-like hide on their back that protected them against most conventional weapons. Grimhorn was no beast. Nor was he, as this puny Wulvern called him, dumb.

Grimhorn’s nostrils flared out slightly as he let loose an annoyed snort. It caught their attention, and their furry faces contorted into what Grimhorn assumed was disgust for his kind. They approached the barred metal cage which held the captive Rhonar.

“You got something to say, beast? How quickly I forget, Rhonar are too stupid to communicate with words.” He said with a growling hiss.

The fat one chimed in as well. “I heard they are too stupid to mate. That’s why their numbers are nearing extinction. Looks like, despite this one being damaged goods, it should still fetch us a fair bounty once we bring him to the Crimson Skulls. They love big, dumb animals for their underground fighting pits.”

Grimhorn snarled and glared at them from where he sat against the cold, metal wall. An overwhelming feeling of rage slowing built inside the mammoth being. It churned and boiled within, yet Grimhorn stayed silent. Waiting.

“What, you don’t like being trapped in this cage? Too bad, beast. Once we hand you over, then you can unleash your animalistic rage on those poor fuckers.”

A smile crept over Grimhorn’s mouth. It peeled back his large lips to expose huge, blocky teeth. He grumbled through them, “Grimhorn not stuck in cage. Tiny Wulvern stuck in ship with Grimhorn.”

Before either Wulvern could throw another insult, Grimhorn rose, strode to the cage bars, and pried them apart, muscles bulging, until the gap was wide enough to fit his massive frame through.

“Oh shit!” the taller Wulvern exclaimed as he raised his blaster in a futile attempt to defend himself. It belched purple plasma that hurled towards the charging Rhonar. The Rhonar warrior was ready for the attack, and he lowered his shoulder as the blasts dissipated against it harmlessly. The fat Wulvern was significantly wiser as he leapt behind a stack of metal crates for cover. The cover would be no match for Grimhorn, but he did save himself from immediate and certain death.

Before the pirate could pull the trigger again, Grimhorn grabbed onto his neck with a blood-curling roar spun around and smashed the full-sized Wulvern into the ship’s floor. The impact left the Wulvern mangled as bones snapped and muscles tore, yet he still breathed raspy gasps for air. Unwilling to allow this inferior warrior a dignified end, Grimhorn raised the Wulvern’s bloodied body so his eyes met his captor’s. He snarled with gnashing teeth and a fiery rage burning in his eyes.

“Ppplease…spare me.” The captor pleaded. Begging was for the weak, and Grimhorn knew only one way to deal with weak souls.

Grimhorn’s eyes narrowed as he spoke slowly. “Grimhorn spares no puny warriors. Grimhorn not broken. Grimhorn still whole.” With that, he hurled the limp body towards the ships wall. If Grimhorn didn’t know better, he would have been impressed that the impact pushed the ship in that direction, even if it was only a slight movement. The lifeless body crumpled to the floor; dark blood pooling around the mess of exposed bones through the metal armor.

He turned, slowly turning his attention to the laborious, wheezy mouth-breathing coming from behind the metal crates on the far side of the large room. A stomp of Grimhorn’s hoof sent a shockwave of air from the dent in the floor it created. If these captors believed Grimhorn to be a beast, then Grimhorn would act like a beast. A wild, untamed, rage-fueled beast. But Grimhorn refused to be broken.

The Rhonar roared in fury and slammed both fists into the floor, causing the crates to tumble and crash loudly to the floor. Shaking uncontrollably, the fat Wulvern stared with wide eyes in terror at Grimhorn, then at his friend’s body, then back to Grimhorn. His eyes darted to the open door to his right, then again to Grimhorn, knowing that was his only exit.

A large hoof scraped the floor as Grimhorn prepared to charge the weak opponent. He could not allow them to leave and inform the rest of the crew. Without waiting any further, he charged towards the Wulvern, snorting furiously as he ran. The ship trembled under the heavy pounding of his feet.

The fat Wulvern somehow managed to scamper out of the way of the rampaging Rhonar. Clawing at the metal floor, the pirate dove through the doorway and slammed a furry paw on the wall. Sirens blared, almost drowning out a furious roar from Grimhorn. Thick doors with transparent glass in the middle from both sides of the entryway slammed shut with such force it knocked back the Wulvern onto his rear.

Terrified eyes widened as they watched Grimhorn pace back and forth, his gaze unwavering. He hoped to scare the literal excrement from this being. It prevented him from exacting his revenge on the rest of the poachers. Without a word, Grimhorn sat down and folded his huge hands into his lap.

He knew it was only a matter of time before the ship reached its destination. Until then, he would prepare. He would be ready.

Grimhorn would wait. Grimhorn would have his revenge.

The Edge of Madness: Prologue

Eighteen years before the events of Chaos and Consequences

Darkness surrounded him. It extended as far as he could see, drowning everything in despair. Even the very ground he stood on was pure darkness. It was everywhere. Endless. Suffocating. He didn’t know why he was here, how he got here, or if he was still living or in some other state of existence. His mind couldn’t focus; a swirling cluster of thoughts firing simultaneously without balance, without a purpose.

Nothing made sense.  The young man shook his head, unable to recall any previous thoughts before this moment. It was as if he never existed, or maybe he never did. His head spun as he searched for answers. None surfaced, and the silence began to trigger a primal rage he never knew was there.

“Fuck!” he cursed loudly at literally no one. Or was it in his mind? And he only thought it was projected verbally across the emptiness? The darkness wouldn’t let him understand the basic concept of noise, let alone independent thought.

He put two fingers to his throat. It was still there, as was the rest of his body as he glanced down. “Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” That time he felt his vocal cords move. He was sure of it. He had to be sure of it. Right now, it was the only thing he was sure of.

Okay. Focus Toby. Maybe this place has an exit. He scanned the horizon all around him, his curiosity quickly turning into desperation. There was no end in sight, no matter how much he wished it into existence. It didn’t exist at all. He began to wonder if he existed, or if this was what it was like after their mortal life reached the end of its road.

He knelt down, praying for a sign that this wasn’t the end of the line. That he wasn’t truly dead, or worse, in some existential crisis of being in between life and some other afterlife that he will never reach.

Moments passed. He tried to remain calm, tried to remember who he was, what he had done to end up here. Faint memories, like he had seen them one time on a device lifetime ago, surfaced. Gunfire, pain, sticky crimson, and the cold of metal on the side of his face. He didn’t want to believe he was dead, but what other conclusion could he come to if those are the only memories he could recall? Or maybe they were someone else’s memories and he just happened to be there when it occurred?

The moments turned into hours, or was it days? Time didn’t move, nor did the oppressive darkness around him. In fact, it seemed to close in, squeezing the life out of his body as he slowing his grip on reality.

“Pathetic,” a low voice said with disdain and pity dripping from it. “This is what the Aetherials have been reduced to now: groveling cowards with broken minds.” The man looked around, searching for the source of the hissing voice. If there was a voice, there had to be a being nearby. That’s how it works, right?

He squinted his eyes, hoping that would help him locate the source. The words would have bit hard, if he had known who he was, where he was, or what he was.

“Your name is Tobias Stormbringer. You are in a state of nothingness, as you should be. You were once an Aetherial, one who foolishly dabbles in magical forces they know very little about; gallivanting across the universe trying to save every damsel in distress. Does that sate your curious hunger, young Aetherial? Or would you like to know more?” Despite the answers, he feared asking, or even thinking, more questions. He didn’t know how long this being would be here, so he mustered up the courage to ask more.

“Who, or what, are you? What do you want with me?”

A being appeared before him. Though it was humanoid in appearance, something wasn’t quite right. Darkness, somehow visible against the midnight black around him, dripped like wet tar from the being’s limbs. It was tall, lanky, with clawed crooked hands and feet. Its face didn’t have any distinct features except an abnormally long crease where its mouth should be.  The strange face smiled, lips curving up to where the cheekbones would normally be. It sent shivers down Tobias’ spine, and made the hair on his neck stand straight up in uneasiness.

The mouth never moved to speak, yet he could hear the words it projected crystal clear through the empty space surrounding him and that crept into his mind. “I go by many names; some more appropriate than others. Your archivists will not have mentioned my name, for fear of me instantly appearing as some boogieman. While amusing in concept, my being and power goes much deeper than a children’s tale. I am the original. I am the one who was the first to unlock the true power that Aether holds, and was exiled because of it.

The council feared me, as they should have. I was able to wield power beyond their imagination. With more practice, I could shape the fabric of the worlds around us. It is a shame I was never given the time to fully explore the secrets they tried to hide. Though I’ve had many, my true name, is Master Apophis.”

A clawed hand reached out and gently held his chin up by the tip of a black nail. The icy touch unnerved him, and the words he spoke were daggers through his heart. From the little he could remember now, this being was right. They never mentioned him before, and if what he says is true, he wondered why. If he was able to discover the true extent of how beings could use the Aether, what was the reasoning behind the Council of Elders sending him into exile?

“If you join me, I will show you how to unlock your true potential. Come, join me my young friend, and help me bring about the end of the Aetherials. They betrayed you; left you for dead, just like your father. They are everything that is wrong with the universe. I will not abandon you as they did. Become the being known as Endbringer, and I’ll make sure you get your revenge.”

He stared directly into its face. His thoughts came into focus. He remembered being scared, pain, suffering, and watching his brother run away from his trembling body as it lay on the cold, metal floor with pooling blood.

That was the end for him. It should have been the end. Yet, somehow, by the grace of the gods old and new, here he was. Somewhere, sometime, somehow.

The young Aetherial kneeled before the strange being and bowed. “I will be your Endbringer, Master Apophis. The Aetherials will be wiped out, and together, we will bring justice to the galaxy.”

A tinge of satisfied distantness permeated through the Aether, and Tobias knew, he would never be the same again.

Zeroes and Ones

Eleven years before the events of The Edge of Madness

“It’s doing anything, Anders. Are you sure it is going to work? If not, I need to take her now so I can give her a proper burial.” Joren insisted impatiently. The hour was late, and both men were tired, both for entirely different reasons.

Anders couldn’t blame him. The lifeless body of Joren’s barely teenage daughter lie on the padded and reclined table before them. He couldn’t image the pain the man was suffering at this difficult time, but he had a rough idea. His parents were taken too soon; slain in cold blood by Crimson Skull thugs looking to make a quick cred off unsuspecting victims. His father had fought back, and paid the ultimate price. His mother’s life was taken when she threatened to turn them in to the Galactic Imperium authorities.

That left Anders with very little choice but to take a chance and join the Galactic Imperium. Though he wasn’t the most physically gifted in his class, he was good with numbers and his fingers. They danced gracefully across the Holovid keyboard projected beneath the screen illuminated in front of his chubby face. His breath labored from intense concentration mixed with moderate obesity.

“It will work. I ran the numbers hundreds of times already. I know it will work. There must be something I’m missing. Let me run it through one more time.”

Joren sighed audibly and leaned his back against a nearby wall, arms crossed and a blank stare brimming with despair aimed at the cold, metal floor. This man was the closest person to a friend that Anders had, and he refused to let him down. Now here. Not now.

On one screen, he dug deep into the program files, looking for any indication of what might be causing the transfer to fail, while on the second screen he ran a few basic scripts to find any open conversations on the Grid that may help in his code troubleshooting. The wires attached to Ava’s brain ran into his computer and should be copying her consciousness. It kept failing, which mean something just wasn’t right. If even one line of code was incomplete or incorrect, it would certainly prevent it from executing successfully.

As they normally did, Anders eyes bounced wildly across the screens. Back and forth they read expertly crafted code, frantically looking for an error; any error. Though the current situation was dire, his pace was always the same. Nonstop.

“Snowman, I appreciate the effort, but I think we’re done here. She deserves a proper burial and I need…I need some time alone.” Joren’s somber voice interrupted the methodical tapping of stubby fingers on the projected keyboard.

Anders Fleury, whose self-given moniker was Snowman, pushed his oversized glasses back to their proper spot on the bridge of his nose without missing a beat. “Joren, you have to trust me. I know I can do this. I know it will work.”

You have to trust me, Joren. I know this might seem like a far-fetched idea to you, but all my calculations confirmed it should work. I just have to find the error that’s holding it up.

THERE!

Immediately as he finished speaking, he spotted it. Buried deep in the code’s foundation was an incorrectly pointed directory. In theory, he should be able to rewrite it to point to a valid databank to complete the upload. With code, theory wasn’t always reality, as he all-too-often found out the hard way.

Just a few adjustments. Let’s redirect that pointer here, and make sure the connection is secured. We don’t want anyone to compromise this Grid node and be able to copy the code during transfer or see what we are trying to accomplish. The G.I. has spiders crawling all over the Grid, looking for anything they can report back to Intelligence. Best not to make it too easy for them today.

A pleasant ding from the Holovid indicated the transfer was successful. Moments passed. Nothing happened. The silence between the two men dragged on as they waited, until Anders couldn’t take it any longer.

“It should work! I fixed the error, and the code executed successfully. What the hell else is wrong with this thing?!”

Just then, a voice squeaked out from the Holovid. It wasn’t just any voice; it was child-like, almost whimsical in nature, eternally naive to the world around them.

“Hello? Is anyone there? Daddy? Daddy is that you?”

Both men’s jaws hit the floor, hard. Neither could believe what they were hearing. They exchanged an incredulous look. As the realization set in, Anders smiled warmly at the broken man at the other end of the room who now stood upright in shock. Usually quite stoic in nature, Anders never thought he would see so much emotion from Joren in his lifetime.

Trying to sound normal, Joren answered, “Give me just one minute, Ava, sweetie. Daddy has a lot to explain.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long. I think its past my bedtime.”

Joren placed a hand on the should of the master coder, his grip firm with the slightest shake. “I’m going to need some time. Thank you, Snowman. You were right, you did it.” Joren met Anders’ eyes. The pain mixed with pure bliss created a pressed smile that made Anders shiver from the oddity.

Most would have been marveled at the success of his programming expertise.  He brought someone back literally from the other side, despite the myriad of claims that he was crazy and it couldn’t be done. Few knew about the program, fewer still knew what he was trying to accomplish with it.

Now, he knew they were wrong because tonight, he proved it. Maybe not to them, but to himself. Tonight, that’s all that mattered; he performed a quantum physics equivalent of a miracle. Anders metaphorically patted himself on the back as he swiveled off his chair and exited the room.

To the one who preferred the moniker Snowman over his birth name, though, it was still all zeroes and ones.

The Tinkerer

Four months after the events of Chaos and Consequences

“Wrong. All wrong.” The elderly male Praug croaked in frustration at his shaky, webbed hands. As the years passed, the slight tremble in them had grown increasingly worse, making it more and more difficult to do the only thing at which he knew he could do. Fix things.

His workshop was very modest, a handful of tables where he could work on any ad hoc jobs that came his way, provided they weren’t requested by the Galactic Imperium. He had a personal grudge against them, and this Praug held on to grudges for far longer than he likely would admit out loud. A waist-high counter near the front allowed him to greet any guests that stumbled across his business. The door in the back was locked with an advanced biometric scanner, requiring both an iris and fingerprint to open. He didn’t want anyone just waltzing into his attached apartment, after all.

As he tinkered with the damaged synthetic humanoid separated into numerous pieces on his metal table, he wondered to himself if he would ever have the opportunity to work on something more meaningful. Putting together busted synths kept food in his stomach, sure, but there was more to this life. He knew there was. Years ago, he had a purpose, had peers he could trust, had a meaningful place in the galaxy.

Now? Now, he was stuck on some backwater, hellhole planet called Valorant in the far reaches of the galaxy called the Fringe. Technically, it could be worse. He could be dead, or rotting in Darklight Prison. It wasn’t much of a consolation, but it was something. Though he could certainly do with more water around, and less ravaging wind storms that coats everything with coarse dust. He hated dust.

His eyes squinted, his hands trembled slightly as he continued to weld and wire the tiny mechanical circuit boards inside the synth’s chest. Despite it losing most of its lubrication fluid from a royal smashing by some local Galactic Imperium miscreants, it still retained that metallic scent. It filled the Praug’s slanted nostrils as they flared open and closed quickly. Most Praug were strictly against artificial intelligence, believing that it was an abomination against science.

KarDel wasn’t most Praug, though. Most Praug wouldn’t leave their greatest creation behind to transplant themselves onto a remote planet hostile in more ways than one.

They really gave you a good beating, didn’t they? Let me guess, you refused to obey their orders because it would have put you in a situation that would have likely resulted in your termination? That’s typical of them. Damn brutes. Even out here in the Fringe, their stench fouls the air we breathe.

Maybe I was better off on Praug.

The jarring thought forced him to stop his work. No, he wasn’t better off back on Praug. He would have been put to work by those Galactic Imperium oppressors, forced to create weapons of death and destruction. He liked to tinker and discover more efficient ways to make things work. He didn’t like to create things that could actually kill another living being. The last project he had a hand in creating on Praug was the final straw. Sure, it was ultimately a success. But at what cost?

He worked with a brilliant, young Praug woman. Cunning, headstrong, fierce, and a little crazy at times. She loved her work and it showed. They made a great team, and at one point he had hoped they would become more than that. He missed her more than anything.

Those days are over. Better to leave them behind where they belong than reminisce about better memories.

With an involuntary grunt, he hobbled towards a nearby wall with countless tools hung on small protruding pegs. His gimp from a prosthetic metal leg was a reminder of his past, and why he would never work for the Galactic Imperium again. He tried to split ways with them peacefully. They instead chose violence, as was their usual preference. He grabbed a smaller wire splicer, a bottle of synth fluid, and made his gimpy way back to the table to continue his work.

As he often was, KarDel was left with only his thoughts, his tools, and his projects to keep him company. It wasn’t until a throat cleared loudly behind him that he hobbled around until he was facing the entryway. Before him stood someone he never expected to see again.

“TuMar?” He couldn’t believe his eyes. They widened at the presence of someone he had missed seeing every day. Praug weren’t overly emotional beings, but even he felt a tear well up in his eyes. She had a few more stress wrinkles on her neck, and her clothing resembled a field worker with its earthy colors against her orange skin. But without a doubt, it was still her.

A genuine smile spread across TuMar’s lips; that same twinkle in her eyes warmed his old soul. “It’s good to see you again, KarDel. Or should I say, Tinkerer?”

He croaked out a raspy laugh. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time, friend. It’s almost as good to hear it as it is to see you. When I got the news that our old facility was destroyed by that madman Demico, I thought for sure you were lost with it. He leaned back slightly against the table to alleviate his aching back. “What can this old man do for you?”

“You can come in now.” she called behind her. A tall dark-skinned human with black hair braided in elegant dreadlocks stepped through the door. The black shirt he wore looked too small and it stretched taut over bulging pectorals and biceps. A green hue emanated in rhythmic pulses from where his heart should be. Baggy pants opened up near his ankles with multiple tears in the cuffs. The shoeless feet were an oddity, especially for a Human.

As KarDel examined the being, his mind raced back to his time on Praug, and he instantly realized who stood before him. What stood before him. This wasn’t a normal Human male. No, it was a scientific abomination of magic and man, created for one purpose: destroy the Aetherials.

Sensing the apprehension in his reaction, TuMar pleaded her case. “We need your help. I need your help. Please.”

That word. Please. TuMar was never one to ask for help. If she needed help, there was a legitimate reason behind the request. He inhaled deeply and let out an exaggerated sigh, knowing he had no choice. “Alright, I’ll help. But you owe me.”

Technically, I owe you for saving my life, so maybe

The Tinkerer led the pair to an empty examination table on the other side of the room and they began their work.

Choices

12 hours after first events of Chaos and Consequences

Thump, thump, thump. The Galactic Imperium soldiers boots gently pounded the dusty floor beneath her feet. The shoddy lighting above had allowed her to briefly see a small number of various sized shadows moving quickly down the tunnel ahead of her. In her excitement at potentially finding the traitors, Cassidy Rodrigues had, as she foolishly assumed, trotted quietly enough to reach them before they lost her around another corner of these blasted tunnels without alerting them to her presence. The labyrinth of tunnels beneath Coropolis were a damn headache to navigate, and she couldn’t wait until she could breathe some fresh air above ground, even if it was highly sterilized air.

The shadowy figures turned around to face her as she approached, rifle held firmly in her hands but angled as she drew closer.

Damn it, Cas! You ready do have lead feet.

Her hands shook fervently as she got a good look at the traitors she was sent to restrain or eliminate, whichever got the job done. Regardless of how hard Cassidy urged her unsteady grip on her gun to settle and at least partially mask the intensity of her nerves, her body had other ideas. Never before had she come face-to-face with such a misfit group of adversaries.

A girl, maybe only a few years younger than herself met her helmeted eyes with brilliant purple irises. She lacked the horns sprouting from her cranium commonly depicted of Aetherials in the games kids played now and shown on the news. Instead, she wore a plain Omnifit shirt with brown sleeves, lighter blue torso, and a purple “O” on either shoulder. A basic brown belt hugged her waist with two sheaths that held daggers, an odd weapon with such advance weaponry available. A violet scarf hung around the girl’s neck, beautifully matching her eyes. If Cassidy didn’t know any better, she would pass by this girl on the streets without a second thought. After all, there were odder things out there than purple irises that sparkles like the stars in the night skies. However, memories surfaced that reminded her of the girl back at the Aetherial man’s apartment earlier in the day, and despite that being a complete blur, she realized it was the same girl.

Her eyes darted to the gargantuan beast as it snorted and barred its blocky teeth. This one, she didn’t recognize. It wore shiny gold bands around its wrists, tattered pants, toned muscles everywhere she looked, and a Human male breathing shallowly slung over its shoulder. Judging by the soaked shirt and jacket her wore, Cassidy didn’t think he had much time left if he didn’t receive medical attention soon. He looked like the same guy who blasted a hole in Captain Demico back at the apartment in District 39, but without seeing his face she couldn’t be sure. Either way, they were trying to get him help, and she was the only person standing in their way.

Regardless of how hard Cassidy urged her unsteady grip on her gun to settle and at least partially mask the intensity of her nerves, her body had other ideas. Never before had she come face-to-face with such a misfit group of adversaries.

The beast pawed a three-toed scarred hoof at the ground and snorted again, its eyes narrowing on her. She swung her rifle and trained it on the beast, ready to fire if he took even a step forward.

I can’t go back empty-handed. No way. Not when I’m this close to getting back to Lieutenant Farseer.

“We were instructed to bring you in, dead or alive. That was an order from Captain Demico. I can’t go back empty-handed. You have no idea what he said he would do to us if we didn’t find the traitors and bring them into custody.”

The girl did her best to persuade Cas as she kept pushing. “I’m sure he was just being dramatic. The G.I. has no reason to send anyone out to the far reaches of the galaxy. I’m sure you know as well as we do, that they are struggling to maintain control of the Core planets as it is. There is no way they would actually carry through with a threat like that. We can forget this ever happened, and go our separate ways. You’re providing regular updates on your progress, right? Check in with them and let them know you haven’t found anything.”

She was instantly reminded of a moment between herself and Emilee Farseer, or Lieutenant Farseer to most. The beautiful officer had placed a gentle hand on Cas’ and looked into her eyes. “Do whatever you need to get back here. Don’t you go and get yourself killed down there. Captain Demico is many things, but sane isn’t one of them. Whatever you do, make sure you come back in one piece. We will be together once we are honorably discharged.”

Her heart ached. She missed Emilee with every fiber of her being. Killing these runaways wasn’t going to solve anything. It would just create more paperwork, and paperwork was more time away from her love.

She knew the choice she had to make.  

“Fine, you can go. Give me a moment to check in so they don’t get suspicious.” She pressed a button on the side of her helmet to open a channel with the operator assigned to her team.

A gravelly voice answer through her helmet loud and clear. “Yes, First Private Rodriguez. Status?”

Don’t sound nervous. Don’t sound nervous. Don’t sound nervous.

Gathering all her confidence, she said with false conviction, “Northwest tunnels are clear. No sign of the targets.”

Mother’s blessing, I really hope he buys it.

An audible sigh caught her slightly off guard. She wasn’t used to other soldiers showing any emotion, especially not annoyance. Maybe he did buy it?

A moment or two passed, which for Cas felt like an eternity as she reminded her self silently to keep her rifle pointed down so she didn’t spook the Rhonar. A crackle came through her helmet and the disgruntled voice responded. “Damnit. Alright, find your way back here. We will regroup and take a different approach. Understood?”

“Roger that. Coming back now to regroup. First Class Cassidy Rodriguez out.” She stopped holding the button down and slung the rifle back over her shoulder.

“Thank you. You did the right thing.”

I didn’t do it for you, though. I did it for her. For us. Though I guess I should thank you for not killing me, unlike your friend who looks like karma caught up to him. Funny how the universe works sometimes.

Cassidy Rodriguez nodded. “Thanks for not killing me back at your crazy friend’s home. We’re even now. I wouldn’t come within a lightyear of here from now on. I can’t promise my brothers and sisters will be as generous.”

Trust me. They won’t be.

“Heard you loud and clear. Let’s go, Grimhorn. We’re almost there.”

Without another word, Cassidy turned and marched back towards the Blood Bath Arena, following the navigation displayed inside her helmet with a maze of blue lines and a thicker green line leading the way. As the two groups turned and went their opposite ways, Cas could only think of two things: she hoped she never saw them again and how much she couldn’t wait to see Emilee again after this assignment.  

I made the choice I had to; to survive and to see you again. I’m coming, my love. I’ll be on my way back in no time.

Justifying the Means

Approximately one week into Operation: Codename Stormbringer, aboard the Galactic Imperium vessel named Judgement.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I’m sure we can still pull out of the deal. This doesn’t feel right.” The fresh recruit protested with wide eyes and an unblemished uniform.

“I’m sure. If you question me one more time, I’m jettisoning you from this damn ship. Is that clear, recruit?” She stared down over her console to her left at the high-back chair the lowly recruit occupied. After silence had passed for a couple moments, she repeated slower and crystal clear, eyes still focused on his head, “Is that clear?”

The young man turned around in his chair, big brown eyes wide with fear. His short, matching brown hair gave a stark contrast to the pure white uniform all recruits wore. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned around, and pretended to act busy by punching a couple buttons that amounted to checking the ship’s fuel and hull integrity; both insignificant at the time.

Lieutenant Farseer didn’t think she would actually follow through with the threat, but the temptation was still there. If there was one thing that she learned from watching that brute Captain Demico rise through the ranks, it’s that sometimes you have to follow through with a threat or two before people start listening.  The trapezoidal viewport in front of them extended the width of the bridge, and nearly the full height of it, too. Among the stars in the distance, they could see a small, crescent-shaped vessel being pummeled with cannon fire as it flew up and over the bow of the assaulting pirate ship. It was fitting, perhaps, that the pirate ship looked like those once described that sailed on watery seas of the ancient Human planet called Earth in the Milky Way galaxy. Though it took their shape, the massive vessel took very little other design choices from it. Likely for the best, considering those primitives barely made it to this galaxy in one piece.

Her mind snapped back to the present; back to the immediate threat at hand. One less Aetherial was one less threat to her Galactic Imperium. Without them, she didn’t want to think of where she would be by now. Starving in the “free” streets of Eolian, begging for a piece of bread while everyone blatantly ignores her pleas and casually walks by? The G.I. wasn’t perfect, but it was far from the enemy of the people. If anything, the people needed to get out of their way so they could help without constant interference. 

A blinding azure flash from the tall bridge of the pirate ship made them all wince, and the recruit frantically pressed button after button on his console. “Their comm system just went offline. I don’t know what happened; one minute they were there and now, it’s like they vanished.” He frantically pushed a bevy of buttons in front of him, trying to re-establish a connection with them. No matter how many he pressed, it would not work.

Farseer knew exactly what happened. The overconfident pirates underestimated the sleek Dominion ship’s capabilities. They must have successfully deployed an E.M.P. blast straight into the bridge. Sneaky bastards, those ones are. Blasted Space Wolves, only good for harassing merchants and causing limited distractions. Definitely not worth the small fortune we had to pay them.

“Alright, listen up. Change of plans. We are going to do this ourselves. I’m going to take out their engine so they’ll be forced to land. That’s when the boys and a I will capture the Aetherials so we can transport them back to Aegis Prime. There are plenty of hills on Eolian so unless they crash literally into a city, which I doubt they will, at least not intentionally, we will have the upper hand. Everyone clear?”

A chorus of ‘yes ma’am’ rang out across the bridge. Every once in a while, it was nice to have the authority and respect of her squad. Anytime that damned Demico monstrosity came around, the mood always changes from sincere respect to pure fear. Though she respected a strong leader, she had seen the aftermath of leading through fear. It wasn’t pretty, and never ended well.

She turned to her right and barked orders to the soldier seated in that lower position of the rectangular bridge. “Target their engines with our gatling lasers. No heavy weaponry. We want to damage the ship, not blast it into oblivion. Since we will be catching them off-guard, I doubt they will have rerouted their shields to cover their aft.”

A confident male voice replied back from the tall soldier with short, blonde hair in the starboard seat. “Weapons systems armed and locked on, Lieutenant. T-minus twenty until in range.”

Every moment that passed dragged on. Her foot quickly tapped the floor, creating a melodic tin-tin-tin throughout the spacious room. She had no doubt everyone heard the nervous habit, but no one dared to mention it. Not even the new cocky recruit.

A green light illuminated the soldiers face to her right. “We’re in range and the target remains in sight. Shall I fire?”

Farseer, without any hesitation that betrayed her nervous foot, said as she nodded her head, “Fire away. Once you disable their engine, fire off a tracking beacon onto their ship. I want to know where it’s going if they escape.”

To her surprise and annoyance, the recruit turned his head and yelled back over the right of his shoulder. “You sure? If they crash won’t that just be a waste of a good tracker-“

“One more word, and I swear by the Holy Mother’s blessings I’ll toss you out of this ship into the middle of nowhere on Eolian and you’ll have to explain to anyone there why they shouldn’t shoot you on sight. We all know how much the locals there hate our guts, and would love to make an example of what can happy to a fresh recruit abandoned by his officer.”

“Understood. Beginning attack now.”

If only Rodriquez were here. She knows I didn’t need to repeat my order twice before executing it. Damn I miss her.

The man gulped hard, and the lack of color in his face as he turned to face forward in his seat told her all she needed to know about his continuing lack of obedience. She always prepared for the worst, and even if they failed in capturing them, at least others would know where they were headed next.

As purple flashes of light poured out towards their prey, she admired the beautiful light show. Parts and pieces exploded from the left engine, and it sputtered a few times before its blaze was extinguished. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her more trusted crew member press a button that launched a tiny claw-like probe towards the ship. It blinked red every so often, something she hoped wouldn’t be caught by the enemy before they were apprehended.

Satisfied with her plan, she punched a few buttons on her console. A translucent image of a balding forty-something year old man appeared in front of her. His cheeks were flabby with age, and an unhealthy diet.

“G.I. Intelligence, Officer Anders Fleury here. What can I do for your Lieutenant Farseer?”

“There’s a rogue vessel we believe is harboring an Aetherial threat; an old Dominion Crescent class. We are currently following them in a descent to the surface of Eolian. I just hit them with a tracker. I’d like you to keep tabs on it and let us know where they are headed next, should they somehow make an unlikely escape.”

It was the slightest of movements, one that most would have picked up on. Anders Fleury’s face lost the blush red on his cheeks and his eyes widened every so slightly. Farseer prided herself on the ability to pick up on miniscule social ques, and something told her he had prior knowledge of this craft, or those aboard it. She filed that away in her memory as he quickly regained his composure.

“Yes, ma’am. I have it pulled up and will continue tracking it. We will let you know if it leaves Eolian space and where it is headed.”

“Thank you, Anders. Mother guide you.”

He nodded in return. “And you as well.”

The transmission cut off as quickly as it appeared. 

As her foot again tapped the metal floor anxiously, she promised herself that after she captured the Aetherial and returned him to Emperor Tenon, she would leave with Rodriguez and get as far away as possible. Whenever doubts about Emperor Tenon’s righteous cause crept in, and they did often recently, she reminded herself the most important lesson she learned the hard way: the end always justifies the means.

I’m coming Rodriguez, just hang on a little bit longer.

The Endbringer

Thirty-Six Standard Hours After Operation Codename Stormbringer Began

“I am going to ask you, one…more…time. Where did they go?” The man demanded in a low growl through gritted teeth. He focused his mind on the shirtless man with tattered pants and small circular scars near the veins just above his forearm. A breeze whipped around his dark cape moodily, and the gold trim on it brilliantly reflected the lights high above. He donned matching midnight black uniform, with the same gold trim on the cuffs and Galactic Imperium insignia stitched on his left breast.

He clenched his fist tighter, his knuckles cracking and the midnight leather glove strained from the pressure. The swirling black Aether tendrils snaking from his fist gripped the man’s throat as he clawed at them to no avail. He gasped for air as they increased their stranglehold on his veiny jugular, squeezing what little room was left in it until it closed completely. The man with tattered pants began panicking, throwing his arms out towards his assailant hoping to latch on to his flowing cape, shirt or anything he could get his hands on and pull himself out of the Aetherial snare.

Above them zoomed ships of all shapes and sizes, transporting beings and cargo from one mundane task or drab location to the next. The neon lights of District 39 flashed advertisements specifically customized to those looking at them with enticing slogans created by creatively, and usually morally, bankrupt trillionaires. All that glitz and glamour, and yet this place felt so hollow to its core. Beings devoid of meaning, trying desperately to find it in meaningless shows, clubs, bars, drugs, and a number of other less socially acceptable forms of entertainment. If he felt anything towards them, it was pity and disgust. 

Just as the man choked what would be his last breath, the man in black and gold released the tendrils from his neck. He collapsed into a sobbing fetal position, repeated begging for his life to be spared.

“Tell me what I want to know. And maybe I’ll let you live.” He said once more. His patience worn thin, and he knew if he wanted to stay hot on the Aetherial and Demico’s trail he had to wrap up this aggressive conversation quickly. The skin and bones beggar must have noticed the quivering lip of annoyance, because he finally gave an answer.

“I don’t know. I told you all I know I swear it on the Holy Mother’s Blessing.”

“Then we’re done here.” He raised his hand and spread his fingers; tendrils of pure darkness move towards the sobbing coward and lifted him into the air by outstretched arms so he could stare into the eyes of the one who would be his final judge. As the prey stared into the dead, black eyes of the Nekrofiend, he flung spittle into the air from more pathetic attempts to save his soul.

“Wait, wait. I remember now! The guy said something about…shit. Four claws? Two claws? No, don’t do this. It was Three Claws. Yeah, that’s it. They were headed to see someone by that name. I swear that’s all I know.

A sinister smile crossed the human Nekrofiend’s pale face. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Now it’s time I held up my end of the bargain.”

His breathing intensified as color began to return to his ghostly thin face. “Oh, praise the Holy Mother. Thank you. Praise be her benevolent word. Wait, why aren’t you putting me down? I thought we had a deal.”

“We did. You withheld information from me and that cannot be tolerated.”

The color drained from the beggar’s face again, and he struggled uselessly to free himself from the tendrils snaked around his wrists. The pale skin around the tendrils gripping began to turn red, then bluish purple from the lack of blood flow.

The man with an endless void for eyes effortlessly ignored his pleas. “Do you know what my enemies call me?” The struggling man was too panicked and continued to babble and mutter curses towards his deity, who likewise ignored his cries. Like the others before him, his shouting at the heavens above were drowned out by the growing shadows around them.

“They call me The Endbringer. Let me show you why.”

He closed his eyes, let his head fall back and raised his arms up, palms facing the skyscrapers above. He focused his mind on his burning hated of the Aetherial blights that remained. He let it fester; spreading, consuming, corrupting. He embraced the icy cold Aether as it slithered through his veins down his arms, legs, and chest until it reached the deepest depths of his soul. It gave him strength, control, purpose. He took that purpose, and poured it into the suspended human, willing it to devour the man’s essence.

The Endbringer didn’t need to see what was in front of him to know exactly what was happening. This wasn’t the first time he fed a soul to an Overlord of the Aether, and it wouldn’t be his last. The man’s veins turned black; his eyes rolled into his head before matching The Endbringer’s with their total midnight appearance. The man wretched a handful more times, and a dark crimson dripped out of his tear ducts and from the corner of his mouth. Finally, the Aetherial tendrils released their grip on him, and his body collapsed on the cold steel ground.

  The discreet taccom on his wrist vibrated and produced a high-pitch ding alerting him to an incoming transmission. It snapped him out of his pleasurable state of mind, and brought back the annoyance from moments ago. “Tobias. Come in Tobias. This is Recruit Second Class Andrew Rodgers”

“Never call me by that name! I demand you address me properly.” He hissed at the device.

“Oh, right.” The voice cleared his throat then restated his introduction. “Are you there, Destroyer of Dreams, Man of Mystery, Dark Wizard of Dark Things, and the ultimate fun-bringer.” Audible cackling and roaring laughter cracked through the device from the other end. It raised his anger to a boil, and it took every ounce of restrained he had not to destroy the device and put an end to these fools.

Eventually, the laughing subsided. “Keep making a mockery of me, and I’ll show you how I got this name.”

“Yeah, okay ‘Endbringer’. Anyway, the Emperor wants an audience with you. In person.”

“Message received. Inform him I will be on my ship and headed there within the hour.”

“We’ll let him know. Recruit Second Class Rodgers out.”

A short beep indicated the transmission was over. His Holy Emperor Tenon rarely requested his presence in person, so it must be important. With a few quick presses, he checked to make sure he hadn’t missed any other attempts to reach him through calls or messaged. Nothing. With a brisk gait, he began walking back to the ship docked a couple blocks away. Away from this wretched planet filled with debauchery and the deceptive illusion of happiness.

I will find you, Kai Stormbringer. I will find you, and make you wish you never left me to die. It’s time we settle the score.